im comin back through customs in the bahamas to get on plane the the unites states. i am drunk and stoned out of my gord because we decided to ‘get rid of everything’ before we headed for home…
so i get in line and the armed customs officer looks my drunk ass up and down, pats me down… lifts up my shirt and sticks his finger in the little 5th pocket of my jeans… and pulls out a tiny baggie. you know, the little mini ziplock baggies.
i just about shit my freakin pants right there wracking my brain for what the fuck i bought that would be in that baggie.
computer screws… specifically a set of screws for a hard drive install. you got me officer, is nerd.
I hope you thanked him. Those screws, like all hard drive screws you take your eyes off of for more than thirty seconds, would have vanished forever otherwise.
its drugs. always been for drugs.
I think over the course of the history of jeans, the pocket went from being for pocket watches, to coins (for payphones) to drugs.
true story;
im comin back through customs in the bahamas to get on plane the the unites states. i am drunk and stoned out of my gord because we decided to ‘get rid of everything’ before we headed for home…
so i get in line and the armed customs officer looks my drunk ass up and down, pats me down… lifts up my shirt and sticks his finger in the little 5th pocket of my jeans… and pulls out a tiny baggie. you know, the little mini ziplock baggies.
i just about shit my freakin pants right there wracking my brain for what the fuck i bought that would be in that baggie.
computer screws… specifically a set of screws for a hard drive install. you got me officer, is nerd.
I hope you thanked him. Those screws, like all hard drive screws you take your eyes off of for more than thirty seconds, would have vanished forever otherwise.