Who Needs Drugs?

On occasion, I'm asked why I don't drink. Once in a while, I get asked whether I do drugs. Although it's typically more like, "Really? You don't do drugs? Then how are you so weird?"

It's simple. My mind naturally produces controlled substances.

The DEA routinely kicks in the door to my skull, runs in wearing black masks and with guns drawn, seizes my brain, takes it to an open field, and burns it. Then they have to collect all the animals that breathed the fumes and sequester them in the hopes they'll return to normal. Apparently a rooster who thinks he can fly an airplane or cow who thinks she can produce technicolor milk (and especially one that does these things) is a threat to national security. Livestock that don't return to normal eventually end up in politics.

Which explains why so many of our federal legislators have absolutely no clue what the Constitution says. They're hallucinating.

So there you have it, straight from the horse's mouth.

And don't forget, horses are livestock, too. If you see one repairing flats off I20 in west Texas, wave. That's Uncle Jerry.