Man, I'm so bummed to find out I wasn't even, like, uh, solicited for a contribution to this project.
This is, like, complete bullshit on so many levels, man. I've been keeping my brain, uhh, limber with a strict drug and caucasian regimen anticipatin being asked for my special Creedence Clearwater Pie recipe, which is this awesome concoction that even like, that smokin Nigella chick and the ghost of Wavy Gravy couldn't come up with together even if they huffed the fumes from Jerry Fucking Garcia's corpse, man, or even if they smoked the fungus growing from Terrence McKenna's tombstone. There's this line in the sand, blogger cook book people, and you've crossed -- where's my jay, man? Ahhh. Oh yeah.
So I was sayin.. oh yeah, my recipe. Fuckers. Anyway, you're missin out. Tincture of morning glory seeds, primo sensimillia bud, shrooms of course, Kahlua for flavor, and my own special mixture of peyote pulp this dude out in Bakersfield blends for me -- all encased in a fluffy crust. Your loss.
But hey, The Dude abides.
posted by RETARDO MONTALBAN @ 11:30 AM
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