Poor Pedro got caught with a wee baggy in his shirt pocket he'd forgotten, filled with stalks, none of it of use, all of it inviting the litigious. Heaven, if there were such a place, would be filled with those easy with themselves, unaware of or unconcerned with the effects of their condemnations of no-one who hurt anyone, unaware perhaps that they were living human beings.
Pedro took his linen and hanged himself in preference to all that we desired for him, and the shit that hit the floor had more psychoactive potential than the scant botany that had rendered him an undesirable. Pedro was the sensitive sort, y'know?
Pedro took his linen and hanged himself in preference to all that we desired for him, and the shit that hit the floor had more psychoactive potential than the scant botany that had rendered him an undesirable. Pedro was the sensitive sort, y'know?
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