‘Tis the season to get baked

Last Christmas Eve, I smoked a bowl
And met Saint Nick at the North Pole
The reindeer flew, we played with elves
Then got some sweets to stuff ourselves
We had some drinks, and he got pissed
So I checked out his Christmas list
I found your name, and you’re marked nice
I’m in the naughty column twice!
He sobered up and went to work
He filled his sleigh and gave a smirk
“Next Christmas you’ll get what you need
As long as I can smoke your weed!”
So I whipped out my trusty bong
He inhaled deep, he inhaled long
“I thank you for this killer grass
It knocked me on my jolly ass
Next year you’ll meet a wee cailín
A lovely Irish lass named Jeanne”
No longer will my heart be blue
My verdant Christmas wish came true!


I hung balls on my joint

At this time of year
Don’t mix up your cannabis
With your Christmas tree


She wasn’t that choosy

There once was a woman named Susie
Who everyone called the town floozy
Gross men by the score
Would party and more
Right there in her filthy jacuzzi


M-O-O-N spells super

The moon is full, and so am I
The moon is round like apple pie
The moon tonight is extra bright
It guides us with it’s lunar light
It’s super ’cause it’s fairly near
The moon does this three times a year
The moon is shining in the sky
The moon is high, and so am I


I’m going back to Cali

I’m going back, but I’m not going home
I’m gonna see mom, dad, Tom and Jerome
I’m gonna go back to where I’m the Pope
I’m gonna eat tacos and smoke some dope
I’m not going home, but I’m going back
I’m gonna see friends like a maniac
I’m gonna play games and walk in the sun
And then I’ll go home when all of that’s done


Bacardi party

The office Christmas party fun
Was started with Bacardi rum
The punch was spiked, the bongs were lit
And HR didn’t give a shit
The mistletoe was hung with care
Above the boss’s derrière
The secretaries did burlesque
While interns banged upon a desk
The salesmen want to get ahead
But it’s too hard, that’s what she said
Then Santa came in through the rear
That’s when the party got in gear
While eating snacks and drinking beer
He punched an elf and shot eight deer
This should have ended his career
But he’ll be back same time next year


Second jab is Saturday

Listing my imagination
After second vaccination
I can take a plane to Cali
Or go hike the Great Rift Valley
I can visit my relations
Hug and touch to feel sensations
See the Dead in Sarasota
Or twine ball in Minnesota
I can go to Spain and Quito
Searching for the best burrito
I can play games at conventions
Smoke weed and explore dimensions
I can have a pint of cider
I can put my tip inside her
I might burst just like a geyser
After second jab of Pfizer


Bhí Jean foirfe

I will help you cook the meal
When you’re perfect – no big deal
I will help you dye your hair
You’re so perfect – I don’t care
I will help you with your pain
‘Cause you’re perfect – right as rain
I will help you to get high
Since you’re perfect – won’t ask why
I will help you Sweetie Pea
You are perfect – perfectly


I hope to play at least 16 games in Essen

I play two games in the morning
I play two games at night
I play two games in the afternoon
It makes me feel alright
I play two games when I’m at home
And two at a game store
I play two games before I play two games
And then I play two more



A tough T-Rex named Tony
And a stoned whale named Stoney
Met at the air show in Bray
Then old Stoney and Tony
Saw a polka-dot pony
In a green field chewing hay
Tony then said to Stoney
“Here is my abalone
I must eat pony today!”
So the dinosaur crony
Watched the foul ceremony
Munching his seafood entree
That’s the story of Tony
And his stoned friend named Stoney
Gorging a path to Galway


There’s always next year

Sportsball isn’t fun
The Patriots won
New England is glad
The rest of us sad
Old England won too
The green boys are blue
The cats got a loss
Jizztrumpet’s still boss
This world is all wrong
Let’s toke on this bong


England has suffered enough this week

Baby Trumpet in the sky
Jizzing lies that make me cry
Didn’t know that shit could fly
Now I want to get so high


I don’t like Mondays

The weekend was great
Two days of fun and frolic
But now it’s Monday


He should have got high

24 states think pot’s legit
The other states are full of shit
Tricky Dick said there’s no good use
The war on drugs needs a toke truce
Just think of what the states could do
With all that weed tax revenue
It should be dropped from number one
For patient use or just for fun


Congrats donkeys

The Broncos won the Super Bowl
And Denver loses all control
The main stream press did not highlight
Most of the rioters were white
Imagine if they had been black
The press would have a heart attack
It’s funny that with all those drugs
White donkey fans still act like thugs


Tried to sell what wasn’t his

That’s not good – window’s broke
Asshole drank all my Coke
Crushed my things pretty bad
Took my games – I’m so mad
Funny thing – he got caught
Must have smoked too much pot
Hope he’s shanked in his cell
Then a short trip to hell


In da couch

We live at Four Twenty
We have fun a plenty
Like the Waldos in San Rafael
We live on East Cook Street
And when the day’s complete
We chill out and feel pretty swell


Broncos – 4
Seahawks – 20

The Seahawks and the Broncos
Former AFC West foes
From states where pot is allowed
The NFL must be proud
A THC Super Bowl
Where getting high is the goal


Hold tight

There once was a singer named Bieber
Who worked teen girls into a fever
But then he got caught
Fast driving and pot
In jail he will be a receiver


High ku

Green leaves of the plant
Help get you through the work day
Now it’s 4:20!


It’s 4:20 somewhere

The Smoke Off
By Shel Silverstein

In the laid back California town of sunny San Rafael
Lived a girl named Pearly Sweetcake, you prob’ly knew her well.
She’d been stoned fifteen of her eighteen years and the story was widely told
That she could smoke ’em faster than anyone could roll.
Her legend finally reached New York, that Grove Street walk up flat
Where dwelt The Calistoga Kid, a beatnik from the past
With long browned lightnin’ fingers he takes a cultured toke
And says, “Hell, I can roll em faster, Jim, than any chick can smoke!”

So a note gets sent to San Rafael, “For the Championship of the World
The Kid demands a smoke off!” “Well, bring him on!” says Pearl,
“I’ll grind his fingers off his hands, he’ll roll until he drops!”
Says Calistog, “I’ll smoke that twist till she blows up and pops!”
So they rent out Yankee Stadium and the word is quickly spread
“Come one, come all, who walk or crawl, price Just two lids a head
And from every town and hamlet, over land and sea they speed
The world’s greatest dopers, with the Worlds greatest weed
Hashishers from Morocco, hemp smokers from Peru
And the Shamnicks from Bagun who puff the deadly Pugaroo
And those who call it Light of Life and those that call it boo.

See the dealers and their ladies wearing turquoise, lace, and leather
See the narcos and the closet smokers puffin’ all together
From the teenies who smoke legal to the ones who’ve done some time
To the old man who smoked “reefer” back before it was a crime
And the grand old house that Ruth built is filled with the smoke and cries
Of fifty thousand screaming heads all stoned out of their minds.
And they play the national anthem and the crowd lets out a roar
As the spotlight hits The Kid and Pearl, ready for their smokin’ war
At a table piled up high with grass, as high as a mountain peak
Just tops and buds of the rarest flowers, not one stem, branch or seed.

Maui Wowie, Panama Red and Acapulco Gold.
Kif from East Afghanistan and rare Alaskan Cold.
Sticks from Thailand, Ganja from the Islands, and Bangkok’s Bloomin’ Best.
And some of that wet imported shit that capsized off Key West.
Oaxacan tops and Kenya Bhang and Riviera Fleurs.
And that rare Manhatten Silver that grows down in the New York sewers.
And there’s bubblin’ ice cold lemonade and sweet grapes by the bunches.
And there’s Hershey’s bars, and Oreos, case anybody gets the munchies.
And the Calistoga Kid, he sneers, and Pearly, she just grins.
And the drums roll low and the crowd yells “GO!” and the world’s first Smoke Off begins.

Kid flicks his magic fingers once and ZAP! that first joint’s rolled.
Pearl takes one drag with her mighty lungs and WOOSH! that roach is cold.
Then The Kid he rolls his Super Bomb that’d paralyze a moose.
And Pearley takes one super hit and SLURP! that bomb’ defused.
Then he rolls three in just ten seconds and she smokes ’em up in nine,
And everybody sits back and says, “This just might take some time.”
See the blur of flyin’ fingers, see the red coal burnin’ bright
As the night turns into mornin’ and the mornin’ fades to night
And the autumn turns to summer and a whole damn year is gone
But the two still sit on that roach filled stage, smokin’ and rollin’ on
With tremblin’ hands he rolls his jays with fingers blue and stiff
She coughs and stares with bloodshot gaze, and puffs through blistered lips.
And as she reaches out her hand for another stick of gold
The Kid he gasps, “Goddamn it, bitch, there’s nothin’ left to roll!”
“Nothin’ left to roll?”, screams Pearl, “Is this some twisted joke?”
“I didn’t come here to fuck around, man, I come here to SMOKE!”
And she reaches ‘cross the table And grabs his bony sleeves
And she crumbles his body between her hands like dried and brittle leaves
Flickin’ out his teeth and bones like useless stems and seeds
And then she rolls him in a Zig Zag and lights him like a roach.
And the fastest man with the fastest hands goes up in a puff of smoke.

In the laid back California town of sunny San Rafael
Lives a girl named Pearly Sweetcake, you prob’ly know her well.
She’s been stoned twenty one of her twenty four years, and the story’s widely told.
How she still can smoke them faster than anyone can roll
While off in New York City on a street that has no name.
There’s the hands of the Calistoga Kid in the Viper Hall of Fame
And underneath his fingers there’s a little golden scroll
That says, Beware of Bein’ the Roller When There’s Nothin’ Left to Roll.


Up in smoke

To many it might seem like a joke
But Catholics are focused on smoke
It’s a strange way to elect a boss
How is it done over at Hamas?
When the pipe spews out smoke that is black
Cook up some pop-corn and just sit back
When the voting brings smoke that is white
That means everything will be all right


Burnt out nerd?

Men at Work was my first concert
So gnarly, I bought a t-shirt
“It’s a Mistake” and “Overkill”
They played all their hits; what a thrill!
Tom and I were offered some grass
We refused like it was nerve gas
The show ended with “Down Under”
When I reminisce I wonder
If I had puffed on what was passed
How would that have changed the past?

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