Remember Mr. Potato Head? He always seemed like such a fun loving guy. He was constantly keeping things interesting. If he ever got upset, then he could just pop open his back and change his mood or his hat. Imagine being able to carry around all the necessities of life right within your body. A smiley face, a pair of funny glasses, a smaller nose or 10.5 ounces of ecstacy.
Mr. Potato Head has become a drug mule!
I bet someone had to put a sad look on his face once he got busted. I hope he has a good lawyer, and isnt going to do some serious time. I don't think he's quite built for the wilds of prison. Imagine Mr. Potato Head leading a gang of rogues in the cafeteria. They'd have to do a full search on his in body compartments, just to make sure he doesn't slowly burrow his way to freedom like Tim Robbins in the Shawshank Redemption. I hope this small setback puts him on the straight and narrow. I also hope that the authorities thoroughly cleaned out the drugs before he was donated to some kid that will soon be cruising the playground really enjoying the swing set.
Showing posts with label drugs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label drugs. Show all posts
Friday, October 5, 2007
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Dude, Where's My Cocaine?
A guy in Seattle recently found himself calling in the police to help him find his lost stash of coke. That's certainly a bold move. Calling the cops to report that you've been trafficking drugs, and you lost them.
Would you believe it's 68 pounds of powdered sugar?
Why would someone turn themselves in to find lost drugs, you ask? It's cause the people he was working for would've done something much, much worse. It's like a bad movie. Apparently, the dangerous mob people really do exist. The kind of people that would leave you in a field in Canada with no thumbs to hitchhike home with, or force you to drink a glass of kool aid laced with antifreeze, or even replace your arm with a working tether ball, so you can be nothing but a fun game for kids to play with in a schoolyard. Basically, the worst kind of people.
The kicker? A boy scout found the drugs. A good, wholesome boyscout. Instead of deciding to become potentially the most rich and fun boyscout in the pack, he turned them over to the police. Good job, kid. You're not going to pay for college by earning a merit badge in marshmallow roasting.
Would you believe it's 68 pounds of powdered sugar?
Why would someone turn themselves in to find lost drugs, you ask? It's cause the people he was working for would've done something much, much worse. It's like a bad movie. Apparently, the dangerous mob people really do exist. The kind of people that would leave you in a field in Canada with no thumbs to hitchhike home with, or force you to drink a glass of kool aid laced with antifreeze, or even replace your arm with a working tether ball, so you can be nothing but a fun game for kids to play with in a schoolyard. Basically, the worst kind of people.
The kicker? A boy scout found the drugs. A good, wholesome boyscout. Instead of deciding to become potentially the most rich and fun boyscout in the pack, he turned them over to the police. Good job, kid. You're not going to pay for college by earning a merit badge in marshmallow roasting.
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