Remember that Jezebel Happy Hour?

The one that I went to last Friday? Where I endorsed the trannie porn? Well I was trying to figure out what was so weird about Molly, the organizer of the event when Boyan blurted out, "Are you kidding me, she was stoned!" And when I thought about it, it made so much sense. THEN I read this on her blog to confirm it:

hostage

As I'm writing this, I'm in the Long Beach airport. I love this airport, and while the cab from Koreatown costs about 20 dollars more than the ride to LAX, I choose it time after time as long as I have the option. There are a few reasons: First, it's small. There are four airlines that fly out of here and one of them is JetBlue, the best airline that I have ever had the privilege of riding. Secondly, the staff is very courteous. There's no hustle in the security line, you can crack jokes with the guards. Third and probably most important to a girl like myself is that you can quite easily smuggle a bag of weed in your underwear.

Sneaking it in the underwear is key if you don't want to check your bag. You can wrap it up in a bunch of ziplocks and sink it to the bottom of your shampoo bottle in a checked bag, but then you run the risk of hyperventilating up until you get on the plane. I have had some of the most fearful moments of my life between bag check-in and boarding, just waiting there for the cops to walk up to me and tell me that they need to discuss the contents of my suitcase.

Some would say that it's a true testament to my lack of street cred that I don't have a stash waiting for me on the other coast, but I dismiss this for two reasons: 1) I has the dank Cali buds at my disposal and 2) I want to start ripping immediately after I get of the plane. This is best executed if I bring my own weed, roll a J in the plane bathroom and find an alleyway to stand in while I get my head right.

See you in New York, Fags...

It explains so much.