Traffic Light
On those occasions when I smoked pot, there was a fierce internal dialogue going on in my head; like a hectoring mother: "be sure to tie your shoes; don't forget to lock the door; keep smiling; remember, you don't have your full faculties," etc.

Driving stoned, and approaching an intersection, the voice said "be sure you stop for the red traffic light; be absolutely sure you stop; it's against the law to drive through red lights!"

Dutifully, I stopped: mid-block; fifty meters short of the traffic light.
(Perv With A Dog had his eyes pecked out by scrub jays on, Thu 16 Sep 2010, 21:06, Reply)