PEACE, PEACE, 4:20. Greetings, yo soy Ganjaman 4:20 Boy, King of all weed-smokers. I think everyone chilling together on St. Paddy’s Day and drinking the brew and the rum is very cool, don’t get me wrong, but I and I must ask: WHERE DA WEED AT?
Saint Pat’s day is, as we know, all about the wearin’ of da green: but I must ask: “wherein" is the smokin’ of the “green?” if you catch my meaning. As ruler of all things ganja, it is my solemn duty to spread the message of 4:20 across the calendar to all other holidays, which of course includes this holiest day of getting ripped up: Saint Patty Boy day of the Emerald Aisle. EXHALE.
Don’t ghet me wrong now, it’s not a competition. If there’s one thing Ganjaman 4:20 Boy hates, it’s conflict. All’s I’m saying is, we must build a bridge betwixt the Ganjaman and the Guinness freak, the pot puffer and the suds-sipper, the bowl packers and the whiskey-smackers - you get the idea, ha HA.
I am so high right now. I just took a phat rip off my friend Matt Kilinman’s bowl and oh baby, I am good and toasted. What was I talking about? Oh yeah, St. Patrick’s Day people need to smoke weed. That’s cool, I mean, there probably is already a good amount of crossover so I don’t need to belabor the point. Basically, let’s just start saying “3/17” the same way that we say 4:20. And hey, guys? Let’s mean it.