I despise drugs, but if I come across a half smoked joint in an ashtray I simply have to smoke it.
So there I was in a country house in the province of Girona. We’d been lying around for a couple of days in tracksuits, so we decided to get all dressed up and go into town. And so I dutifully got all dressed up – well, not all dressed up, but quite dressed up – and then as I was waiting for my friend I spotted this half-smoked joint in the ashtray and, according to the rule mentioned above, I had to smoke it.
Turned out it was one of these newfangled super uber extraterrestrial semi-hallucinogenic things, because I proceeded to spend about an hour in the garden with the flowers, as you can see in the photo above.
What’s the moral of the story?
…Flowers are surprisingly good listeners.
