The Peculiar Institution

When you are so high you don't know what to write but have a desperate desire to do so, there should not be blogs. A white screen staring plaintively: wanting words and eloquence inspired by illicit drugs. It wants grandiose sentiments and enlightening revelations. It begs with such need for meaning and purpose that I'm only inspired to shit all over it; to fill it with base less rumors, and gossip bordering on libel. I want to tantalize and titillate; to inspire fame and fortune; to make the world believe only as I believe. I want to be the press!