The Gateway Drug

Tonight at the pesach seder, R's dad was going on about how much more pernicious marijuana is than alcohol or cigarettes. I vehemently disagreed. Silently to myself. Tonight, in bed, R and I were discussing how absurd it was to argue that marijuana does more damage than alcohol. It reminded us that we had an emergency joint, given by a Greek goddess years earlier, and stashed securely in a peanut butter jar somewhere in the house. We're about to smoke it. I haven't had as much as a whiff of dope for at least 3 years, but the thought of pissing R's dad off, plus the effect of his horrorshow cousins on my fragile psyche has driven me to the hitherto sealed peanut butter jar. Plus drugs feel good.