Title might be weed
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In the Summer of 2010, three friends and I embarked on a journey. Armed only with
our wits, acid, and an excessive amount of weed, we trekked into the vast wilderness
Regional Park outside Berkeley.
Several hours into the exploration ofthis infinite expanse of rolling golden hills, 1
found myself hiking behind my friends. Suddenly, one ofthem noticed something.
Something that would change history forever...
Hey. Stop. Look behind you.
What he had noticed... was me.
st H mm
With his long hair and the hills
behind him, Dylan looks like Except without the sand. f
Lawrence of Arabia.
I And he' s Dylan.
I And we' re in Tolden,
So. Wait. That makes him...
Judging from how excited they were, I could only assume I looked fairly badass.
My vision of myself leaned a tad extreme.
Given the amount of drugs in my system, every sentence I uttered was a struggle.
And because ifthat, everything I said came out slow and determined, like a decree.
My friends loved it. So from then on, every conversation I was involved in
went something likethis: