You just got a job in another country. You realize that it may take a day or two to find a source. You have no idea if your roommate smokes.

There is no way you are going to take any with you over the border. It's simply not worth it. What do you do instead? You grind up a couple of grams, wrap them in cellophane and swallow them before you get to the airport.

You think everything is cool when your friend leans over and says, "Hey man, dogs can smell cancer in humans, they can probably smell the weed you swallowed." "Anyway, have fun on your trip." This doesn't help much as you just smoked a fatty 30 minutes before..and you're gettin' kind of paranoid.

"Next." Mr. Border Patrol, fresh out of grad school calls you to his booth. Make sure to always have your passport and other traveling documents ready...it avoids unnecessary fumbling around.

"Where are you going?" "Nature of your visit?" You look over and notice Benji sniffing all passengers walking through the metal detectors. Right about now, you're wishing you had cancer.

You answer all of Mr. Buzz cuts, actually, Mr. Buzz kills questions without hiccup.

Always make sure to have absolutely no metal on you. No coins in your pocket. Especially, no lighters. You do not want to spend an unnecessary time in the metal detection area.

It's going to be a three hour flight so you decide to eat some exlax before the flight. You should be able to pass it through by the time you land.


You get to your new apartment. Your roommate is not home. You start unpacking until you feel your bowels begin to tickle. You figure you'll shit in the tub. You can run the shower until all that's left in the tub is your stash.

You prepare yourself accordingly. You run the water and crap between your legs in the tub. The warm water starts to break the clumps into soft pieces. At this point you look like a fucking crack addict impatiently wading through puddles of shit looking for your score.

But no, you're just a pothead impatiently wading through puddles of shit looking for your score...

About a minute later, you realize that the water is not draining. You are now up to your ankles in water and feces. Just when it can't get any worse, there is a knock at the bathroom door. It's your over excited roommate asking to come in and introduce himself. "Oh by the way, don't use the shower, the drain is blocked and I'm waiting for the plumber."

At this point there is brown film hardening against the sides of the tub. The only thing in your site to help relieve this problem is your new roommate's laundry scoop.

There is no other choice but to use the scoop and frantically begin tossing the water from the tub to the toilet. "I'll be right out,"

You do the best you can. The solids you can't scoop up, you stuff it down the drain with your fingers. You swish the water around looking for your stash. After ten minutes of scooping up shit and water you realize that your efforts are in vein.

Turns out your precious three grams is still stuck in your lower bowels. You'll have to wait until your next movement and try all over again. At least the expression "Hey, this is good shit" makes a bit more sense.

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