An Open Letter To Michael Phelps

Dear Mr. Phelps,

I am impressed. You have navigated though this bong toot B.S. relatively intact while the sycophants who tried to profit at your expense have been nicked by the law. Who would not be amped about having Michael Phelps, not only on the scene at your party, but laying it down with the crew on the pipe? There is going to be a line-and I am in it. When I reach the front of the line, however, I will be smacking you.

I have no fear of repercussion, for if you had anyone watching your back, they would have snatched that fucking camera from that pre-failure major before you started to cough your way to High Town. No one else will rush me for I just SMACKED Michael Phelps, and I now own the room. Why the heavy hand? Because you have a lesson to learn golden boy, and the lesson is that BOOZE is your friend and weed will sack you.

Need proof? look around you. Babe Ruth was a drunk, yet loved more than Brazilian hooker. Ricky Williams lights up daily and stills gets charged for sodas in restaurants. Charles Barkley goes to bars and throws mouthy douchebags out the front window, has a weekly TV gig, yet former Laker Corie Blount, got cuffed with 11 pounds of Marijuana and now gets to apply his degree in criminal justice.

It did not take me long “experimenting” with marijuana to get to the point of rejecting it. In order to “score” some smoke. I had arrange a meeting with some jamoke on the other side of town at his convenience. Exact change was needed, and we had to share some of what we just purchased with this weaksauce to show our gratitude for allowing him to show a profit. Hey Jag-Off! I am going to the bar around the corner from now on. They have better hours, a wider selection and no risk of possession arrest. I hand the bartender money and not do I only get change back, but there are girls there. The only time I saw a women in your attic apartment is when your mom came up to drop off your laundry. Let’s face it, the name of this site is and the humor within it,  is fueled from it’s rebellious makeup. If I chose to smoke dope, I would be the author of a rambling unreadable blog about cheese and recycling batteries.

In short:

1) Booze will never rat you out to the British Newspapers.

2) Booze will be advertising during the next Olympics.

3) Booze is your friend.

It is time to drink our way to freedom.



3 Responses to “An Open Letter To Michael Phelps”

  1. This is ridiculous…
    Alcohol is thousands of times worse than marijuana.
    Marijuana is your friend!
    Toke up.

  2. Just passing by.Btw, your website has great content!

  3. man of hazardium Says:

    booze is way easier to keep lit.

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