Monica: I am sure I will be fine. I will just be drunk for four days. How else do you do a wedding in Cheyenne, Wyoming?
Me: Maybe you should get some pills. Preferably some 'ludes. Or a sack of goofballs. Or some Black Beauties...
Monica: Yeah, I have not decided which drug to risk the Interstate Commerce With Intent to Sell ticket for. Oxycontin?
Me: Sprinkle in some morphine. Because nothing says Wyoming like painkillers.
Monica: When livestock outnumber people 10-1 do as the locals do.
Me: Load up on mind-numbing medication and wait it out?
Monica: Right.

Labels: drugs, im convos, mons