"to ask them to legalize pot is something like asking them to put butter on the handcuffs before they place them on you, something else is hurting you - that’s why you need pot or whiskey, or whips and rubber suits, or screaming music turned so fucking loud you can’t think. or madhouses or mechanical cunts or 162 baseball games a season. or vietnam or israel or the fear of spiders. your love washing her yellow false teeth in the sink before you screw."
Charles Bukowski
