Mother's Day invites us to appreciate the cumulative acts of caring we experience everyday. Perched on a favorite and endearing cliff, I give thanks to the Samaritans who trekked down the knoll with a table and four chairs to improve the comfort around my ass. They may have stumbled in their burden, dodged a lurking groundskeeper and CSO, birthing anew the spot Stevensonians go to pilgrimage with sticky fingers. I guess it's alright for Cowellians to join occasionally too. Those seeking chillness need havens like The Cliff to weed out one hitters who value a high over homies. We all strive to alter our consciousness somehow. Whether by plant, drink, or brain-corroding inhalant, Spliff Cliff offers the perfect setting for sitting in stupor and listening to the hilarious ramble of a mongoloid like Lil Windex.
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| I got you on the slaps |
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