Every NBA team’s worst Thanksgiving road trip companion

Sacramento Kings: Zach Randolph

“What’s in that bag, Zach?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“If I get pulled over, am I going to want to know what’s in there, or do I want deniability?”

“Mind your business.”

I’ll be honest with you. I’ve been around people who were in possession of a marijuana. Sometimes more than one. It’s a nerve-racking experience, especially when they inhale marijuana smoke and go on “a trip.” People’s laughter is harrowing, and that doesn’t even touch on the amount of nachos one can consume when in that state.

A couple weeds is one thing, but two whole marijuana pounds is more than I can even comprehend being in a single space at once. Did you know that if you touch a marijuana you can get addicted instantaneously? It may not be true, but it feels like something someone would say and believe.

I don’t want to put myself in that situation. I’m afraid I’ll get a contact high if I sit too close to a backpack of cannabises. Cannabi? I don’t understand how drug pluralization works.

Did I ever tell you about that one time my friend had a pot and then the next day he woke up with a strange haircut he didn’t even give himself? It’s a dangerous world out there.

Anyway, if you get past all this frivolous hashish business, I guess being around Zach Randolph would be okay. Maybe a nice trip through Memphis would be good, what with people throwing roses at my car and thinking that I’m cool. I’m just not sure it’s worth the risk.