There’s no worse feeling than losing a loved one. Especially when that loved one is the person you look to for weed, coke, and the occasional peyote. Sure you may not have loved your drug dealer or ever really talked to them, but you did love the way the drugs he provided made you feel, and those feelings are only replicated with more drugs. Drug dealer – life= no more drugs. No more drugs + you = all of the feels. The emotions can be so overwhelming that you burst into tears, but since you’re a woman, these tears can easily be mistaken for you being on your period. Here’s some sound advice on how to make it clear to everyone that you’re not crying because of your bloody vagina, but because of the possibility that you’ll never snort blow again.
First and foremost, you have to commit to your crying bout. Don’t make it seem like these are ridiculous hormonal tears caused by a dull stabbing pain in your uterus. Give into the pain of knowing your last stash of grass is down to only a dime, and your roommate, Betty, is home early to finish it off. She, too, will be sad. Weep and wail to let them know, “Dave went and got himself shot because he got high on his own supply and thought he was Spider-Man and tried to climb into a federal prison.” Why, Dave? Why?
Scream out in agonizing pain for the loss of drugs—not for the loss of your unfertilized womb tissue. Women on their periods don’t yell; they moan and groan, while assuming the fetal position. That’s why yelling in public is the best way to let people know that you’ve lost someone very important today, and it wasn’t just Molly. Goddammit, Dave! Why???
Document Your Sadness
Nothing says “I’m crying because my dealer got shot in the butt and then had a heart attack while scaling a wall,” than a sad selfie with the hashtag #RIPMyWeedMan. You’ll reach a wider audience on social and your friends and family will send you sympathetic emojis and messages like “Aw man, his bubonic yonic was top notch” and “I can tell you’re not on your period. Mad condolences.”
Tear Your Clean Underwear out of Your Pants to Dry Your Tears
Nothing says “not on the rag” like literally ripping the underwear out of your pants in search of something to soak up the profuse tears caused by the newfound lack of drugs in your life. As you smear the salty, snotty mess of your face, make sure to display the bloodless crotch of those panties, as proof of the legitimacy of this grief and the tragedy of the war on your drugs.
With such an incredible expression of sadness and emotion unrelated to your bloody twat, you’ve already gotten the attention of six different drug dealers, all of whom are ready and willing to take the place of beloved…what was his name?