How Not To Smuggle Weed On An Airplane

STEP 1: Do not choose to bring aboard a type of weed so fresh/pungent that anyone sitting within five feet of you automatically begins wondering where Dave is or why their fingernails are so tiny.

STEP 2: Do not call someone on your cell phone before take-off and state in normal conversational volume that you “got an ounce of the good shit” and that it cost you “two hundred bones.”

STEP 3: Do not get an epic nosebleed three minutes after take-off.

Sadly, on my return flight to New York today, the guy sitting next to me violated all three of these sacred and time-honored rules. His reward? First passenger off the plane upon arrival, under the pretense of receiving “immediate medical attention.” Must have been the invisible kind; I strode into the terminal less than a minute after Petey Nosebleed and didn’t see paramedic one.

Seriously though, it smelled like that guy had showered in cannabis. I’m surprised he got on the plane in the first place.

Extensive vacation report tomorrow-ish.

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