I saw an ounce of marijuana. My boyfriend at the time was going through his pothead phase–all guys go through a pothead phase–and he and his friends bought an ounce that was supposed to last through the summer. They named it “The O.” It was the most drugs I’d ever seen in my life. It filled a whole gallon-sized Ziploc bag. It reeked. I was both impressed and disgusted when I learned they’d finished it in a month, but then again, I don’t know much about weed.
Knowing what “The O” looked like, my mind is boggled thinking about quantities of drugs higher than that. A pound. Twenty pounds–like the amount of weed that was confiscated from Indiana University of Pennsylvania senior Aaron Andrew Paul Gmuca at 3 a.m. on Monday.
When Gmuca was pulled over, police noticed he was attempting to conceal $15,000 in cash. It was then that they got a warrant to search his car and home, where they found an estimated $115,000 worth of marijuana.
TWENTY POUNDS OF WEED. I would rather lose $2,000 than gain 20 pounds. That’s so many pounds. That’s enough weed to leave an entire fraternity of Sumo wrestlers comatose for a week. That’s enough weed to make your house stink for all eternity–and weed smell doesn’t even linger like cigarette smell. Twenty pounds of weed is heavier than three newborns. That, my friends, is what you call a fucking party.
No, but on the real, drugs are bad, and Gmuca’s bail is set at $100,000.