My friend K-9 from Vegas sent me an email a couple of days ago, wishing me a well birthday and a package will be arriving in the mail, apparently in the honor of the 20th year of the Bison, which took place on the 6th of December, 2003.

I don't know what to think about being twenty, it's like very slowly all this shit is starting to make sense. I always wondered when driving through the local suburbs "what have they done to deserve such white snow?" Maybe it is all about the bomb birthday party, and the size of your chocolate bar, so I didn't have the money for a sizeable chocolate bar, but I did throw a relatively enjoyable birthday party, in my *very first bedroom* that I still ironically have to share with Birdman(move out of your mom's house, bison). There were 10 stoners packed into an 8'/12' room, and we played the Camel Toe song by Fanny Pack, and the song i downloaded while looking for the real Camel Toe, played to the tune of the Beach Boys Kokomoe (sp?)...

some stoner quotes:

"Shake the Meatballs"-Angelator
"(rather jubilantly) Everyone needs to go online and sign up to be my friend"
--Angelator

Okay, so maybe you had to be there for both of those, but, most of the people

(most of the people, bison?)

okay all of the people that read this were there, so...

Oh, and I figured out why I haven't been writing anything good... I don't have glasses! So, today, I went out and promptly purchased a pair of real writer looking glasses, so at least if never sell a poem in my life, I can always pose for some pictures at my desk for those plastic surgeon catalouges...

it's okay, i can do this...