thanks dad

My Dad is a quiet French-Canadian man who seldom speaks when my friends are around but swears like a truck driver, sings french lullabies when he cooks and cracks the worst/best jokes you'll ever hear. When he was in his early twenties he grew his hair long and went out to "find himself" by hitchhiking his way to the east coast of Canada. If you ask how that experience was he'll tell you that he doesn't remember because he was high for the majority of the trip. Some of the best advice he ever gave me as a sixteen year old growing up in suburbia was "Never drop acid, I've seen too many crazy things while high on acid. Smoke dope all you want and if you put mushrooms in hot water that shit will fuck you up".

I should mention that my father has long ago abandoned his hippie lifestyle and very rarely acknowledges his experiences with hallucinogenics which is why his "advice" still sticks in my brain. I should also say that I have never dropped acid, taken mushrooms or snorted cocaine (I once faked taking ecstasy but more on that later).

I owe all my healthy brain cells to my father, now if only I could put them to good use.