home authors guest shorts graphical shorts


Benjamin tamped down the sweet little cherry of a coal he had stoked in the elfin ceramic bong he’d bought last summer at the Big E. His faced puckered into the hit holding look Doug recognized from the time they toked Thai sticks behind the thresher in Braintree. At last he billowed out an ionized cloud of sticky ganja mist which clung to his lepidopteron (that’s right!) brow, accreting crystalized tetrahydrocannabinol like green hoar frost. So they both knew that worst case they could always smoke his eyebrows.

Date Written: September 19, 2005
Author: Ewan Snow
Average Vote: 3.5

09/23/2005 TheBuyer: Hey Snow, whould you mind telling that story about qualcomm smoking a bee again, please?
09/23/2005 qualcomm: i wish the author had gone more into the barfy fetishization of weed gear and esoterica that he began in the first sentence. although braintree is a pretty braintree detail. second sentence, shouldn't "time" be "times"?
09/23/2005 Will Disney: Braintree, huh?
09/23/2005 Jon Matza: Brockton, more like.
10/3/2005 Streifenbeuteldachs (3.5): Hey Ewan, maybe they should cut off his lepidopteron brow and sell it as a merkin!