Ran into X last night at a rave in North Beach. "Doin sum X, want sum?" he said with a strange bent smile. "Got sum, thanks though my bro, maybe tomorrow," I sheepishly replied. "Hey X you rave alot?" I axed. " Not alot, maybe 8-9 a week, only double up on Friday and Tuesday cuz to much X ties X's bowels in a windsor if you know what I'm hinted at," drooled X. I reached down inside my outside pocket to make sure I had the stuff to quench X's jones and right next to the tweezers and double bubble was one neatly wrapped load. "Relax X it's your lucky day, I got you covered," I said as I placed a hand warmed hit of chockalaty lax into his anxiously waiting hand. "This kindness will move me in ways only Elvis can appreciate, how can I ever repay you," queried X. "So easy X, when the lax kicks in, do it in a brown paper bag, light it on fire, throw the flaming bag of pooh on Harbaugh's porch and scream at the top of your lungs, HOLDING, HOLDING, HE WAS HOLDING!!!