My best friend and I took a class on 18th century English lit. together when we were in college. The professor’s interests included underground British punk music, taking pictures of alligators, and attending to his cats. One morning the professor came into class and said, “A very interesting thing happened to me on the way here. I was walking down the street and the air was filled with a very acrid, pungent odor. It was pot, folks. A guy was toking it up in his car. I got a big whiff of it and I think I’m feeling it. What do they call it? Oh, yes. Wake and bake. Good morning.”
He got a gold star in our book.