Love, Peace and Dro

We called him the dooch or the mini, who puffed all his dope like a chimney he would grind up that budd, like a crip or a blood and rolled up two blunts and a skinny. The very first time that he smoked, his chest became swelled as he choked and he tried to inhale, his complexion grew pale passing out from the buzz that he toked. Eventually he learned how to puff, and of course he was feeling so tough deciding to pop in a shroom, something so new to consume but the amount was not nearly enough. The days and the nights became long, he thought deeply about getting a bong the thrill from that weed, was all he would need a world with no right and no wrong. for Dom, Il vero scrittore non mette mai tutto nel suo libro.