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By The Betches on

To my dearest drug dealer,

My heart skips a beat when I see your name pop up on my phone. You can make or break my entire day. I can handle an unresponsive boyfriend, bestie, or mother, but your manipulation tactics are so powerful that I feel my entire life revolves around you. I mean it kind of does, as you are the gatekeeper to my weed and my weed is my life. We share my most meaningful relationship and yet, I'm not even totally positive I know your real name. You are my drug dealer and we need to fucking talk.

I've spent the better part of a decade trying to track you down. Why do you text me to advertise your new “BLUE DREAM KUSH OUT 2DAY!!” yet ignore my 15 calls when I'm trying to acquire some? Why do you frequently respond to my first 3 texts then cut off communication just before closing the deal? And WHY do you tell me you'll be there in "20 minutes" when I’m clearly going to be waiting for you the entire fucking day???

I get it, reliability is not your strong suit (Roccawear is). If punctuality were your thing you would have a job instead of a backpack filled with dime bags and a go phone. But believe us, if you came through for your clientele on a consistent basis we would never look for another dealer, and you could be a weed tycoon with a giant fucking weed empire...the John D. Rockefeller of marijuana...the streets paved with weed...if you'd only fucking ANSWER ME.

Now all of this isn’t to say you never come through because if that were true I wouldn’t be high as a kite right now. But on that note, your in-person demeanor must be addressed. What should be a brief money-for-drugs exchange isn't an excuse for you to give me a 10 minute description of the agricultural origin of the weed I am about to smoke. Don’t chat me up about my evening plans. Don't tell me about your side business, I'm not interested in what you're doing when you're not answering me. And for the love of Ganj do not EVER ask if you can come into my home, you 300 pound black man.

So dealer, you have a product that I need and therefore you will always have disproportionate power over me. All I ask in our relationship is that you are sensitive to my vulnerable state respond when I text you. And even though I complain about you constantly, just think of our relationship like the one Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman have with their first children: unwanted, obligatory but absolutely permanent.

Your most loyal customers,

Stoner Betches

12 Comments TALK SHIT!
  1. S says:

    the time when you and your besties got your first dealer <3

    Posted on Reply
  2. Loves It says:

    Just made my morning…afternoon. And please don’t tell us why you took all day…a betch needs commitment in this relationship.

    Posted on Reply
    • ... says:

      posted at 4:20 you fucking idiot

      Posted on Reply
  3. Anon says:

    Blue dream: YES

    Posted on Reply
  4. so good says:

    i completely relate to everything in this post, except for the fact that none of my dealers are 300 lb black men.. or even black, for that matter.

    Posted on Reply
    • Well says:

      You must not live in New York

      Posted on Reply
      • Uhm.. says:

        You must live in the ghetto because ours aren’t 300 lb black men in NY either..

        Posted on Reply
  5. Real Stoner Betch says:

    I’ve lived in NY for 4 years and never had a black dealer. All nerdy white dudes who give me an 1/8 for $40 because they’re overpowered by my betchiness.

    Posted on Reply
  6. Pathetic says:

    First your dealer doesn’t answer you because your dumb af, second agreeing with stoner vetch because who the fuck deals with dimes but not agreeing because who the fuck says noob. lol getting the text about Blue Dream Kush, getting a text means its already gone and you should’ve been there when we smoked it all.

    Posted on Reply
  7. Sober Sally :( says:

    Lol that awkward moment when my best friend accidentally became my dealer…

    Posted on Reply
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