Which will limit me, for sure, but I’ll find other ways to make this work so I can still direct-inject the flavour you all crave into those hungry little brains of yours. That’s my job, right? To regurgitate cannabis knowledge unto my audience, not unlike a mother bird who spews a half-digested rodent like a fountain onto the awaiting faces of her hungry hatchlings. You, my viscera-covered young, will learn just as your ancestors did: with the ever-present threat of being kicked out of the nest and falling to your premature death always lingering deep in the back of your mind.
That’s how we should run provincial education, honestly: build schools on stilts, and allow the teachers to just go ahead and kick the kids right out the windows when they’re being dicks. I’m not saying this would fix the laundry list of issues our society will face over the coming years, but it would certainly be a good start. Once we’ve figured out the stilts, we’ll start work on an all-regurgitated meal plan. With both initiatives in place, how will future generations fail to soar? They won’t, is what I’m telling you. The fear of falling will ensure that they exist in a perpetual state of anxiety, which is awesome for getting things done. Trust me, I’ve been a teacher.
What was this post supposed to be about, again?