Partly Cloudy, 64°
This evening, your horse-sized friend is reporting that he isn’t really feeling the ketamine high.
“Well this is a little underwhelming,” said your friend, whose weight and size are roughly akin to that of a purebred palomino. “It’s alright, I guess. I feel pretty tranquil, but that’s about it.”
“I really thought ket would be… well, stronger,” continued your immense friend, failing to consider the effect that his equine-proportions may have played in his high. “Ketamine will just have to join the long list of things I can’t do, like fit through regular-sized doorways or see things directly in front of me.”
“Life’s just so stressful for me; I thought I could finally get some relief from this stuff, but nay!” the horse-like man complained, stomping the ground and whinnying in disdain. “I can’t even go to the bar without the bartender asking me about my long fucking face, as if that’s supposed to be funny?”
At press time, your horse-sized friend wished people would stop looking him in the mouth like that.
