At four-twenty, the time is nigh,
To spark that joy, and let the good vibes fly.
Prepare your stash, keep it in sight,
For ritualistic munchies, and giggles take flight.
Friends gather round, it's a smoke cloud parade,
While the clock ticks down, let the fun be displayed.
“Where’s the lighter?” we shout with glee,
As the stash becomes a shared jubilee.
A race to the fridge for the finest snack,
Chips and dip, a munchie attack.
But wait, my friend, with reckless abandon,
Forget the dip, it’s the cheese that we’re handlin’!
At four-twenty, the laughter rolls in,
As we delve into stories—where to begin?
“Remember that time…” we chuckle and tease,
Making the mundane feel like a breeze.
With puffs of smoke and laughter so bright,
Our worries dissolve in the path of delight.
The world’s a stage, and we’re the stars,
Sipping our sodas and munching candy bars.
“Is it still 4:20?” one friend will say,
As we check the clock, while giggles ballet.
It’s a magical time, a whimsical spree,
Even the cat gets a dose of our glee.
As the minutes fly, we’re lost in the bliss,
The ritual holds magic, who could resist?
But as the high fades, we must keep it real,
Time to clean up this crazy ordeal.
With a sweep of the crumbs and a laugh in the air,
We’ll gather again, without a single care.
Hazy Humor is licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0
