February Book's going well, the research is fascinating. My friend Will says that tobacco was descovered by accident after Walter Ralieigh was ripped off by an unscrupulous Apache dealer named Dances with Weeds. Which reminds me, Must get some more...
March My editor told me that Hawaiian shirts and shades aren't in the office dress code. Jesus, what a square - reminds me of my girlfriend, whom I'm supposed to be marrying next month. Better order up some weed for the stag night, I guess.
May Whoo, that was some good shit! What month is it anyway? Oh right... better call that girl and explain why I missed the wedding. Just roll one more joint before I go....
June The cow lef me. Sod it, she never understood me anyway... not like my dealer. Wish he was a woman and didn't smell quite so bad. Opps, late for our rendezvous. He says he'll be wearing black, carrying a bigass blunt and being pursuded by police... as usual.
July I seem to have lost my job. Just as well, as I can't remember where the office is. Nevermind, it gives me a chance to get my music career off the ground. I've written this song called 'Twenty Four Mars Bars From Tulsa' - It's got hit written all over it.
August No it hasn't. The record company said it sounded like two junkies repeating the word 'Mars Bar' into a microphone. Bullshit! There were at least three. Nevermind, I'm working on a website now - its called www.legalisecannabisoratleastsendussome.com, the apaers are going to love it
September No they didn't. Which is a pity because my landlord is demanding more rent after my last cheque bounced higher then a jamaican on a pogo stick. Damn, if I don't make some money soon I'm in trouble. Ah... that's better
October I am evivted and forced to share a falt with seven Rastafarians and their machetes. We have lost all sense of time .Last night we watched Cartoon Network for thirteen hours before running out of weedand having to smoke our own dreadlocks.
November We've decided to grow dope commercially. We have found a book called The Litlle Book Of Pot which has a great chapter on growing tips that we intend to follow religiously. now we're cokking, bwoy!
December Damn, this is the worst book ever. All the plants died and the police are watching the house. Its like the guy who wrote it didn't know anything about pot at all. Still, he has an intresting tip about being able to fly. Worth a try, eh?
Mike was last seen in the Brixton area, plummeting fast. His family wish it to be known that he still owes them moeny.
