Sometimes, when the lights are just so, and the Mezcal is going down smooth as wild mountain honey, the Sea Monkey King will forget himself and inch close to me on the couch, his thigh pressing against mine, and try to grab my joint with one of his three bulb-tipped sea monkey fingers.
And sometimes, when the lights are just so, and the Mezcal is going down smooth as wild mountain honey, I think about what it might be like to—wait! Are those Mallow Pies…?
Sweet…!
and you thought noone was watching.
To quote Jim Mora, you’re sick, sick in the head!!
Sea Monkey King – pah! Love ‘em and leave they are…oh, did I just ttype that? Er…disregard.
Drugs are bad, m’kay?
Drugs are bad!
Where can I get some?
Methinks the Sea Monkey King is just a tad light in the flippers.
[insert over-used “Seinfeld” dialogue snippet here]
One of my greatest fears is that the day will come when I understand this post.
Where’s the armadillo during all of this?
Beware those bulb-tipped fingers, they’re deceptively quick and much rougher on the skin that you’d imagine.
“Dull” as in I’m gonna need a pint or so of Mezcal to dull the pain of this post.
The most disturbing thing about the whole post is that Jeff actually thinks Mezcal goes down “smooth as wild mountain honey”.
Now THAT is crazy talk.
Will the sea monkey try to eat the worm, is all I want to know….
Aren’t you suppose to take the blue pills and NOT the red ones?
The worst part is when his wife comes home and finds him walking funny and smelling of brine …