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bc politics, smoke, anarchist, television, rafe mair, swear, blaze, digital camera, abuse, french/appendices/exercises, stand up comedy, teens,
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When I finished, I went downstairs, in my towel, and found my mother sitting at the table with my masterpiece in bud her hand. Now, if this were any other day, she would have just ripped it up, thrown it into the trash and given me another lecture, but she didn't. She told me to get dressed. I said to myself "this is weird" so I did it anyway. When I came back downstairs, in my Bob Marley T-shirt and ripped jeans, I saw my neighbor, Officer Jones (not his real name) waiting for me with his dog. He led bud the dog to my room and found my entire stash. Now, my mother could have said not to arrest me, but she didn't. It didn't make sense--a straight-A kid on the honor roll and band being arrested. I always thought jail was for the scum of the Earth. When I got to jail, I met some more kids that were like me--smart, nice, and stoners. I did my thirty days and my community service hours so I could get back to school, but it was too late.
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