When you reach a certain age it’s always a punch in the gut to hear that someone who was a big part of your life when you were young, but who you’d lost track of over the years, has died. When I heard about my old pal Ralph the memories rushed in. I’ll share one story that should confirm his status as poster boy for happy-go-lucky stoner dudes. He’d rescued a sweet little mutt from the pound who he named “Cannabis” and never bothered housebreaking; when you visited you had to negotiate her strategically placed puddles and piles. When Ralph started seeing a young woman who basically ORDERED him to housebreak Cannabis, his training consisted of tossing her out the window when she did her business inside. (It was a low, first-floor window with a short drop to soft grass—less rigorous really than whacking her in the butt with a rolled up newspaper.) The effectiveness of this method was demonstrated the day some guys were over watching the tube when Cannabis walked by, squatted in a corner to do her business, then ran across the room and jumped out the open window…
Posted on: Wed, 04 Sep 2013 21:11:02 +0000