The summer of 96 I ate so much Purple Jesus blotter that I thought it’d be a good idea to go to work at the old folks home with a ten strip to the head. There’s something special and horrible about watching an old man’s face breathe like his cheeks were gills. Had to excuse myself from the dining room a couple times to run across the hall and lock myself in the bathroom and try to laugh my ass off without being heard. Don’t even get me started about the song “yes we have no bananas “ which as far as I know was made up on the spot by a crazy old man who knew I was trying to keep my face from melting

while taking his breakfast order. Worst part was that we actually did have bananas, but I was in no shape to sing back in response. So yeah

that was the summer before my sophomore year of high school. That purple Jesus was consumed by me and my friends regularly all summer long 3-5 days a week. At the rate of a ten strip per evening. Good times
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