The Churning is run by a bunch of stoners. Or at least that’s what you’d think from reading this week’s entries.

One common weed-related theme over the last few months involves an inside joke - our own marijuana euphemism. Some of you have already picked up on it. For the rest of you: pay more attention.

Here’s story #1:

When I was in high school (Mom, stop reading right… now), there was a rumor going around that the government could listen in on your phone calls. Today, we all know that’s actually true - but back then it seemed like pot-fueled paranoia. Regardless, we were worried enough that we didn’t want to talk about weed on the phone.

Back then, my dealer was just another high school kid. He was just like the rest of us, except he had ambition. I mean for fuck’s sake the kid ran his own business. Highly illegal and totally creepy, but it was a business nonetheless.

So if we needed to get hooked up, all we had to do was call the guy. He’d show up within half an hour, and we’d make an exchange. It was just like ordering pizza. Thus: “pizza.”

*ring*
Dude: “Umm… Hullo.”
Me: “Hey dude. You busy?”
Dude: “Dude, I’m never bizzzzy.”
Me: “Cool. ‘Cause I’m looking for some pizza.”
Dude: “Right on, dude. I got some awesome pizza right now. You want like a large pizza, a small pizza… or you know, like a super duper large pizza.”
Me: “Shit man, I don’t remember what that means. I guess like a medium. You know - whatever I got last time.”
Dude: “Cool, dude. Meet me at the BK lounge.”
Me: “I’ll be there in a few minutes. Large fry mothafucka!”
*click*

I know, I know. There’s no way I was referencing Dane Cook in 1993. But I really did meet the dude at Burger King, so I figured it was appropriate.

And yes - that’s how the euphemism “pizza” was created. It was because the high schooler pot dude delivered like a pizza guy.

Here’s story #2:

Why am I admitting all of this? I know some of my co-workers read this shit. Whatever.

So I know this dude in DC who really enjoys hanging out with Mary Jane. If you don’t realize that Mary Jane isn’t a person then you’re really missing something.

Whenever I hang out with this dude after work, he’s always gotta stop at home first before heading to the bar. He says it’s because he has responsibilities. He’s gotta go home to “feed the cats.” And I believe him. I’ve seen pictures. He does in fact have three cats. You may be asking yourself why a single stoner guy living alone has three cats. That’s another story for another day.

But here’s the thing - whenever he stops by his house, he tokes up. Pre-gaming. Thus: “feeding the cats.”

*ring*
Dude #2: “What’s going on, JJ?”
Me: “Hey, dude. I’m in town tonight. You wanna hang out?”
Dude #2: “Yeah man. Definitely. I just gotta stop by the house first to feed the cats.”
Me: “Of course you do. You really enjoy feeding the cats, and I totally appreciate that.”
Dude #2: “No really. I have to feed the cats. Well, yeah. Maybe I’ll also feed the cats.”
Me: “Excellent. I’ll meet you at the bar in an hour or so then.”
Dude #2: “Cool.”
*click*

Notice no one says “bye” to end phone calls in my stories. It seems like that’s the way it works on TV and I wanna be cool like TV. Even though in real life, my calls always end with “later,” rock on,” or “peace in the middle east!”

Another strange thing I just realized: Reading back over story #2, it almost seems like “feed the cats” is a euphemism for jerking off. Have I been confused this whole time? Have I been talking to my friend about masturbating when I thought we were talking about rocking the ganj? Shit.

Anyway - If you’ve been reading along this far, you’re obviously down with the chiba. So to celebrate the weekend, let’s all head over to Big Al’s place where it’s always 4:20. Please tell him The Churning sent you.

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