I feel the exact same way about Bunco.
Do you remember when you were a kid, and you spun around in one place until you fell over giggling, and the world spun around you, and it was awesome and alien and strange? And then you got up and did it again?
Same reason.
Do I have to spell it out for you?
Ahhhhh, I’m too tired, so I’ll let Allen Ginsberg do it for me (at least as far as marijuana is concerned*).
(Link is *barely *NSFW if you work somewhere with super uptight people with no sense of humor–there’s no nudity or anything offensive).
*Actually, for me, this is no longer the case so much. I’m pretty much over it. But Ginsberg’s point is still well taken.
I’ve never done or bought drugs, but if I needed to, I know it wouldn’t be too difficult. I guarantee you know several people (regardless of your demographic info) who at least smoke pot. You can bet they have a dealer or two in their phones who can get you whatever that evil mastermind wants you to get for him.
Hell, in California, you can go to a clinic, tell them you can’t sleep or have migraines, get a pot recommendation, and walk right into a dispensary to get whatever kind of pot you’re itchin’ for. All legally.