They simply couldn’t tell me that they didn’t have a cigarette. They had to give me their pitch, their religion: cigarettes were for cubes. They were going to Malibu, to some seeming loose and easy shack in Malibu and burn a bit of grass. They remind me, in a sense, of old ladies standing on a corner selling “The Watchtower.” The whole LSD, STP, marijuana, heroin, hashish, prescription cough medicine crowd suffers from the “Watchtower” itch: you gotta be with us, man, or you’re out, you’re dead. This pitch is a continual and seeming MUST with those who use the stuff. It’s no wonder they keep getting busted – they can’t use the stuff quietly for their pleasure; they have to make it KNOWN that they are members.

― Charles Bukowski Tweet