
In my youth, I was never one to be considered a suburban stoner. I only knew them. And their balls. Which were huge.
“The hard-rock version of “Shamrocks and Shenanigans”, not just the ordinary version.” Duh.
The spawn of Wallingford have always found their fixes over the tracks in Ridley, and yesterday’s bust proves that it all was because that’s where their parents got their vice on.

Why Greg Mottola’s Superbad continues to exacerbate memories of a time – scratch that, a routine – that I endured not too long ago in a suburb not at all far away…