Frontend Workshop

Me? i'm dishonest, and a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest. honestly. it's the honest ones you want to watch out for, because you can never predict when they're going to do something incredibly... stupid. we're not sheep!

holy jesus. what are these goddamn animals? we are very much alike, you and i, i and you... us. we had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a saltshaker half-full of cocaine, and a whole galaxy of multi-colored uppers, downers, screamers, laughers...

forget about it" is, like, if you agree with someone, you know, like "raquel welch is one great piece of ass. forget about it!" but then, if you disagree, like "a lincoln is better than a cadillac? forget about it!" you know? but then, it's also like if something's the greatest thing in the world, like, "minghia! those peppers! forget about it!"

do you like my meadow? try some of my grass! please have a blade, please do, it's so delectable and so darn good looking! well, then, i confess, it is my intention to commandeer one of these ships, pick up a crew in tortuga, raid, pillage, plunder and otherwise pilfer my weasely black guts out. giddy-up... no, no this way... good horsey.

what? no. we can't stop here. this is bat country. a drug person can learn to cope with things like seeing their dead grandmother crawling up their leg with a knife in her teeth. but no one should be asked to handle this trip.