The Lamest Thing I Said Last Week:

While involved in a discussion of the omnipresent smell of marijuana smoke that hovers over the city of San Francisco like a fart trapped under a blanket, I came around to the subject of how open people are here when it comes to smoking pot. I don’t know what the police policy is on public smoking, but from what I can tell it’s more total obliviousness than zero tolerance. Not that I have a problem with that, per se, but I’m used to a little more discretion. I do notice that anyone could be smoking at any time, and since I am more unhip to the stoner parlance than your D.A.R.E teacher was I remarked that someone who said they were going to their car was more than likely going to smoke a “Doob-o.” If the laughter this provoked is any indication, this is not the preferred slang.

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