Storytelling Under the Influence

Just this past Saturday night, I had a moment of utter brilliance when I tried to tell my wife a story. Unfortunately, my brain to mouth filter was clogged with cannabis, so it went wrong somewhere along the line. The story ended up a little like this:

Me: Hey, remember that one time when I told you that stuff?
Wife: What?
Me: You know, about your sisters and the cheese.
Wife: *stares at me and makes "what the fuck are you talking about face"
Me: You know . . . wait, it's gone.
Wife: What?! *she starts laughing
Me: Oh, OK, it's back. That one time when I was telling you about your sisters and how they took our cheese.
Wife: I don't remember that.
Me: I was really tired then, so I kept saying that your "chisters stole our seese". And I kept trying to correct myself, but every time I tried saying it right, it would still come out as chisters and seese?
Wife: I don't know what you're talking about . . . but whatever it is . . . you're a great storyteller.

So . . . that happened.