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the confessions of hectorish lee


Rufus Mangrove

I remember waking up that morning with a long tail, thick whiskers, and an insatiable appetite for subway water runoff and fermented garbage. I wrapped the tail around my leg with duct tape, shaved the whiskers off, and then drank a large cup of coffee. By lunchtime my tail had disappeared. My whiskers never grew back. I never realized then that I had an ongoing medical condition.

Nothing ever happened again until a few months later when I began smoking massive amounts of the Purple Spike. Purple Spike looked like prime California Kush. Thick, golf ball size buds covered with purple hairs and crystals, and the kind of scent that just blasted through any container it was in. But the Purple Spike didn’t smell like weed because it wasn’t weed. Purple Spike was the last original strain of Dehydrated Free Will cultivated by the now infamous Clan of
Jompa. More on that shit later, because I have to get some preliminaries out of the way. Otherwise, you are not going to understand or even be prepared mentally for what you are about to learn. There’s a good chance that your body could just shut down and cease operating.

One Comment

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  1. January 30, 2012

    love the photo eh.

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