Hey man, I knew you were a little bit out there, know what I'm sayin? It didn't take a detective to figure out you'd done a drug or nine in your day. You functioned well enough in the real world...
"But what is the real world, maaaaaan?"
Hey, quit interrupting my post about you, ya fuckin hippie. As I was saying, you were functional enough, but it was clear that your head and heart were off in some other sector of reality most of the time. Interestingly enough, Boy Scout summer camp was actually a pretty good environment for you to work in. I remember one night, you and I were sitting outside of somebody's tent playing guitars, and you told me how you'd travelled through space and time to another dimension where Jimmy Page himself had taught you how to play "Stairway to Heaven." Clearly, you were out of your mind because you couldn't play that song for shit.
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