No apologies for not having written in such a long time. I’ve been busy doing very important government things, like dinners, speeches and just being sexy and awesome.
Anyway, yesterday I went to fire up a bone, and I realized that I was totally out of weed. I drank a bunch of Cristal to hammer down the Jones, but I still longed for the herbal buzz. I called my assistant, Lance, and asked him to score me some shit and drop it off at the house.
He said, “Not necessary, Nan. I’m here at ‘Occupy Oakland’ and there more weed here than there is corn in Iowa. Bullhorns, signs, drums, chanting, plenty of free food! Come on down!”
I had seen news reports of those wonderful people demonstrating in Oakland, and it reminded me of my days at Woodstock. Freakin’ groovy! I put on my granny glasses, my tie dye shirt and bellbottom pants. I did my hair in braids, strapped on my sandals and headed for Oakland.
As I approached the protest, I could hear the drums and chants. I could also smell the herb and the sweat. It was awesome; it was 1969-Yasgur’s Farm awesome. I stopped at a shop to liberate flowers for my hair. My dainties were already damp.
I walked near the awesome drummers and immediately met a fellow named Aquarius. He had a star on each cheek and three more on his forehead. He gave me a few hits of whatever the primo shit was in his bong and brought me to the center of the drum circle. That must have been really good weed, because I haven’t danced like that since I danced topless with Wavy Gravy at Woodstock. I pulled up my shirt and let the crowd see my awesome tits. They cheered; it was totally awesome.
Aquarius took me to his tent where I dropped some of the Woodstock brown acid, snorted some quality blow and played “Hide the Salami” with several of his friends – big guys, all, if you catch my drift. Must have been a half dozen of them. It was totally freakin’ awesome.
Lance drove me back to my place, because walking was uncomfortable (As I said, there were at least six of them, maybe more). I threw back a few Percodans and a Valium or two in order to relax, so now I’m just sipping Cristal thinking about how spontaneous and groovy those beautiful people were. God bless them.
Wait ……. I hear loud noises outside my window. A bullhorn? Drums?
Holy shit! They’re demonstrating outside my house! They’re screaming “Eat the Rich! Pelosi’s a Rich Bitch!” WTF? Who the hell do they think they are? Do they think this is freakin’ “Oakland?” I have to stop writing, because I’m calling the cops to have these lawless pieces of shit removed from my goddamned property.