Cannabis, life and the urban myth – things to ponder with a spliff and a smile TWO.
Always good to see the cannabis, feel the cannabis, smell the cannabis and taste the cannabis. Roll it, light it, toke it and hold it in………..now I think we’re ready for some more giggles and fun.
Mashed Crab has let the spiders, dogs and monkeys have a day off and has found some gems for you…………read on if you’re still able.
Curiosity didn’t kill the cat. That was Fred from number 6.
Elvis may well have left the building. Given that he has A. been dead for nearly 40 years or B. is living with the fairies at the bottom of the bible be happy the fat fucker has left the building. Or has he ‘left the building’ to you, in which case next time you see him tell him to build his own, you lazy fat fucker.
Crying over spilt milk? You are probably out of spliff and this is a symptom, not a cause. Either get some more cannabis or clean up the milk.
Finding your feet? One of the few times you need to lay off the spliff a bit. (This also applies if you get off on the wrong foot).
Found yourself letting the cat out of the bag? Make sure you are close to a box of frogs and just let the cat go wild. Messy, twisted and cruel. You better fucking believe it!
No room to swing a cat? Let the amphibians get their own back then.
Want to sleep with 72 virgins? Join the club.
Can you smell a rat? Make sure Elvis did leave the building.
You can’t judge a book by it’s cover. So why did I get into so much shit when my wife found my copy of ‘Wide open beavers, together at last, lady love, lady love, strap it on and ram it in?’.
You can’t teach an old dog new tricks. That’s alright, leave the old bugger alone and get out a bit more. Smoke a joint and smile.
Having been arrested, tried, convicted and imprisoned for three years DON’T try and thread a camel through the eye of a needle. As the judge said it’s cruel (unless your only other option was to fuck the old girl).
Nine pins don’t make a summer, unless she swallows.
He who laughs last farts longest.
If all else fails SMOKE A FAT ONE.
You can’t trust a Tory with a child. Sad but true.
Few people can talk the hind legs off a donkey. Fewer still could then persuade it to go for a walk. Even fewer would then bet on the outcome of a race between that donkey and a rain drop sliding down the window. Phew!
Birds. Hands. Bushes. Exactly.
Blowing your own trumpet? Jammy bastard.
If it’s a piece of cake be happy that Elvis is both dead and has left the building. Otherwise the fat fucker would’ve nabbed it.
If you’ve ‘got green fingers’ best see a doctor.
Don’t expect a gift if the horse is in town.
If it takes three hours to smoke a ‘henry’ how long will it take for the fridge to empty if Pythagoras is pissing around with the remote?
Don’t leave before you go, unless it’s your turn to roll.
More soon Crab fans…………………………………….