PROVIDENCE, R.I. — Your guitar-playing cousin Jerome Orozowski’s usefulness was called into question over the weekend when he failed to sneak some weed into the family barbeque, groaning sources reported, rendering him “insufferable” and “an even worse musician than any of us thought.”

“Fucking hell,” you said, moments after realizing that Jerome had completely forgotten to bring even a single pre-roll to the family gathering after specifically telling you “not to worry about it” because “he’ll come through.” “Jerome’s one redeeming quality was his propensity to sneak weed into every event he went to: weddings, bar mitzvahs, dentist appointments… Jerome brought bud to everything. Or he used to, at least. Without weed, Jerome’s just a tone-deaf burnout with the voice of a dying calf, just like Uncle Steve. Maybe there’s some CBD residue in his white-guy dreadlocks?”

“This next one goes out to my favorite cousin,” Jerome said right after your internal tirade, pointing at you. “Life is a tidal wave and I’m just a rock on a sandy beach. That’s the name of this next song I wrote, all about when the car I hid my ganja stash in got towed. Love you, cuz.” 

Jonah Nink writes comedy for The Hard Times, The Chicago Machine, and Jumpkick, and real news for UIC Radio. @mymanjonah