Every day in Boulder is an opportunity for wonder and surprise. Like this morning, I was walking El Stupido around the Sanitas area when I saw a long, skinny turd. But wait, that isn’t a turd! It’s a dreadlock! That used to be on someone’s head! Seriously, it looked like something that Blue might have hunched out after a particularly fibrous meal. I had to take it home.
No, I didn’t bring it in the house, but I did take a picture of it and then I gave it to Zeb to do something creative with. We used to have these really annoying people living across the alley from us, they were a bunch of ne’er do wells who sat in lawn furniture,
smoked weed self-administered Medical Marijuana (those poor things, so young and in so much pain) and sang Nickelback songs while playing the guitar. Even Testi, at all of four years-old was like, “He’s a really bad singer.”
One day Zeb found a baggy of pot (he’s always finding MJ on the sidewalks because only users lose drugs) and feeling punchy, he decided to prank the losers. He rolled the cutest joint you’ve ever seen, packing the ends with the trim and stuffing the center of the joint with cat hair. Then he found the perfect cellophane wrapper from a pack of cigarettes, put the booby-trapped joint inside along with some stems and seeds, and casually tossed it under the door of one of their cars.
You know they found it, high-fived, and smoked the shit out of it.
We had to giggle in bed and imagine the punch-line. Zeb could roll one hell of a fatty with the dred I found.
I’m clearing out a bookcase in my living room. I need more space to pole and a mirror would look lovely in that spot. So here are some books.