Greetings from the Crossroads of the West my brothers and sisters—It is I, W.W. Felch with another installment of High, On The Mountain Top.
It has been a wild weekend for the Felch-Dog. I spent Saturday night at the home of an old companion who lives down in Sandy. He is still on the down-low about his herb consumption, so for the purposes of this conversation we will just call him Elder. We did the usual—got baked, reminisced about the good ol’ Mish, and talked about all the sister missionaries we wanted to fornicate with.
Elder had a brilliant idea: get high as fudge on Temple Square on Sunday morning. So we woke early, said our prayers, did a little scripture study, took a few bong hits, and then hopped on TRAX and headed north.
Now when traveling on public transportation one must be mindful of your green’s aroma. I find a discreet way to carry a little flower power with me is to store it in a consecrated oil vial on my keychain.
Elder brought his little one-hitter pipe (which he calls the Straight & Narrow) and we hit that sucker generously once we got to Temple Square. If you have never had the opportunity to partake of the Smoky Sacrament whilst in the shadow of the Salt Lake Temple it is not too late to repent.
One might ask which of all these strains is appropriate when smoking on the Sabbath. I have found Lamb’s Bread to be a truly righteous Sunday smoke. Lamb’s Bread symbolizes Christ’s sacrificial role in the atonement. The woody taste reminds us of his agony on the cross. It also gives you a fucking high of biblical proportions.
With our hearts and lungs full of God’s glory we entered the Tabernacle just before they started Music & The Spoken Word. Gentile smokers can keep their Zep and Pink Floyd…when I am high nothing sounds so fucking sweet as that big ass organ. And then the choir kicks in with “Israel, Israel God is Calling” and you just wanna shake your ass until the Second Coming!
Oh man, there is nothing like communing with your fellow saints, and enjoying the greenery, on Temple Square!