All Things Profane and Sacred

Today is going to be full of somberness and things I don't want to do, so I'll give ya a semi-funny story:

Last night we were sitting around feeling sorry for ourselves and making our way through Scorsese's awesome, but long, Bob Dylan documentary, when we got a knock on our door. T'was our neighbor across the street who bought the scary clown house and is in the process (a long process-apparently the scary clown owner was letting his scary clown dog use the living room as a scary clown toilet) of making it a respectable house. Her water was shut off and she had to use the bathroom and after looking around at her choices, assholes on her left, white trash on her right, older people kitty corner on both sides, she chose to go with the hippies across the street. So we yak a bit, since she didn't want to flush and run, and she suddendly said to me, "Do you guys smoke weed?" I said, "Only weeks when we're particularly rich" (sad truth). She laughed, "I knew you guys were cool!"

So there, high school. I finally made it. I am cool. At least our neighbor who was in desparate need of the toilet thinks so.