So a friend of mine was in my apartment late at night.
Like most men who are in my apartment past midnight, he was stoned to the point of immobilization, and in desperate search for food.
So like the compassionate companion I am, I set my prejudices against the high while hungry aside.
I gave him one sole instruction in order to get what he desired.
I warned my friend, who we'll just call...Spencer, not to make a big mess.
We all know the power of THC, how it can make a competent person into a helpless, high baby leaving crumbs and empty juice boxes everywhere.
And I fucking hate that.
So I told Spencer I'd monitor him, but first I had to take a piss.
I went to the bathroom and when I returned there he was:
DIPPING TORTILLA CHIPS INTO GLOBS OF QUESO SAUCE, USING MY KITCHEN COUNTER AS A PLATE.
HE WAS SO HIGH HE BELIEVED THAT WAS ACCEPTABLE.
I looked at him, he looked at me, and began laughing at his own malfeasance.
Enraged, I cracked him in the arm, and he went down like a stupid, high baby.
Queso off the counter...Jesus...