Can someone please send us this dude's pager number?
Photo courtesy of istockphoto
Per a story in the Huffington Post, a Brooklyn marijuana dealer has donated $700—half his profits from two days' work—to help the many still-suffering victims of Hurricane Sandy in the Rockaways. And here I've spent the last 15 years dealing with the same chronically shady dudes who always show up late, and then have the balls to stick around hoping to get smoked out on the very same shit they just sold me. It's criminal.
Speaking on the condition of anonymity (because selling dope doesn't make him one), the dealer explained his actions to the HuffPo thus: "Look, there are probably some people down there [in the Rockaways] who want some marijuana—but that's not going to clothe and feed them...So in order for me to help, I needed to turn what I do into something concrete that I could give to them."
The donation was used toward the purchase of 50 wool blankets that will go to people who are still without power in areas like Breezy Point, that were devastated by the storm. The man also claims that he has personally volunteered in relief efforts, helping to deliver critical supplies to needy residents of Brooklyn and Queens.
The moral of the story is: Selling pot is still a pretty lucrative business. Why did we ever stop doing that?
EDITOR'S NOTE: I'd like to take this opportunity to state that my Financial District apartment is still without power (seriously), and dude, if you're reading this, I'm all set with clothing and food, but feel free to contribute some of that sticky icky icky if that's what your conscience tells you to do.
Show me more funny things.
I only came here for the girls.