Garrett: “Dude.  Do the pigs really expect us to believe that it was like, some crazy coincidence that I got busted at the fucking Pershing Square Red Line station?  I mean, ’Red Square’, man!  Think about it—home to the fight against godless communism, to the resistance against Orwellian thought police, to the tragic mass executions of brave dissident Chinks who longed for freedom with such a burning passion that they symbolically made love to Soviet tank gun barrels by repeatedly thrusting gentle daisy stems of peace into those cold steel hate holes?

“Hell nah!  This was a political act of targeted retribution, an NSA-inspired Nixonian plot meant to chill the speech of newly disaffected libertarian freedom fighters like us—the youth of this country who rise daily to burn a doobie and say ‘fuck you AND your military industrial complex, you filthy warpigs!’

“Tickets?  We dont need no stinking tickets!  We the PEOPLE shoot smack to bring love back into the world, you dig?  To experience mushroom clouds of love expanding into our veins and into our blood stream, expanding our very consciousness—not to experience them as fiery balls of radioactive death in the skies over Tel Aviv and Tehran.  It’s a differnt kind of warmth, brothers.  It’s the warmth of harmony.  The warmth of togetherness.

“Plus, it kinda makes your nipples feel like they’re being licked cleaned by a thousand coarse-tongued kittens.  Which, that’s almost a reward unto itself…”*

****

(h/t Laurence Simon, Bill Ardolino, Dave Price, mamurcekjr, rburton, Leon James, R Crowley, Joel V, Kerickson, Pete@faulkdesign group, John Beck, Albo, John Martin, Alyssa Milano, and Judd Nelson)