After nearly two years of marijuana use I had not had a single migraine until last night. When I started smoking I promised myself I would always have an emergency stash in the event of a migraine. It had been so long since I had had one and I forgot that I ever had a migraine problem. After all this time feeling good about knowing I had found a medicine I could count on, the myg struck during a dry spell. Allow me to describe what I was feeling last night through a story about a rabid chainsaw serial killer.

I was walking home and I decided to take a short cut through a dark alley (not trying harder to get weed/failing to maintain an emergency stash). As I walked farther into the darkness I could have sworn I was hearing footsteps. I told myself I was imagining things. This was not possible. I had not been attacked by a serial killer in two years. That did not happen anymore. But, as the minutes passed the footsteps became louder. I now knew that there was a threat. Despite the disbelief and anxiety, I knew I had to act fast (blurred vision). I readied my can of mase and felt the pistol at my side. I was ready to face my demise (the pointless use of painkillers and ice packs). I turned to face the predator behind me, who was still quite a distance away, but I knew there was no use in running. I recognized this silhouette as a creature which could chase down and tackle a Greyhound bus. So, I stand there awaiting my horrific pummelling (crawling into bed with my ice pack). The figure is near now, and I can smell it. As my slayer starts to emerge from the shadows, I pull out my pistol and fire (having a piece and no pot). It is empty. "Fuck. Oh, Fuck. I don't have any bullets!" (Exactly those words, but "weed" instead of "bullets").

I don't know why I carry mase, really. I know for a fact that whatever is about to destroy me is impervious to it. Sometimes it seems that when I use it, the motherfucker enjoys itself even more, that sadistic fucking twisted genetically inherited son of a bitch. This is the point where I experience the most pain I can possibly feel. Wisdom teeth? Fuck that. Twisted ankle? Get out of here. I have never been stabbed, but I am going to go ahead and say with confidence that I would take that any day over one my migraines. Yeah, with stabbing there's the bleeding and possible stitches: worth it. I'd rather enter the octagon than have a migraine. It would end abruptly, at least. It would be better than writhing in agony for three hours.

For fuck's sake, legalize marijuana.

Ravi struck at 14:48