Davey Dabs does not fuck around when it comes to his favorite past time. No, that is not dabbing, it is collecting Pokemon cards. Dabbing is a close second. But he will inform you that the two go together like chocolate and peanut butter on a caramelized onion bagel with lox, cream cheese with an olive Tapenade schmear.

To most, that sounds like a hideous conglomeration of zest, but to Davey Dabs it is quite the contrary. It is his opinion that the clash of flavors inspires the palette to communicate across a network of frenzied ganglion resulting in a cacophony of synapses firing across all centers of the brain. The game of Twister crossed with Tetrus is how he describes his favorite sandwich, like a funky hybrid that is single source and pressed into super terpy hash rosin.

Passion and details are what elevate successful people to the top, he believes, and the future of dabbing is something he sees as being a legitimate profession undeniably in his future. And in his mind, there is no better chance at making a career out of the one thing for which you are most passionate if you rise to a level above the mean. “Do what you love, and the money will come.” This he professes to anyone concerned with what he plans to do when he grows up.

Davey Dabs envisions a noble career in dabbing.

“I know a lot of unemployed musicians,” he will tell you. “And there are far less people who know how to properly administer a perfect dab.”

He’s not wrong.

He dips a cotton swab in isopropyl alcohol and cleans the residue from the glass, politely preparing the area with proper etiquette. All the while, like a sommelier, his pinky juts to the side, a quirk of Davey Dabs that instills the assuredness that the dab is being administered by a consummate caretaker.

Davey Dabs is notorious for wearing a jacketless vest and tie with an English beanie and has fittingly chosen the stage name The Dapper Dabber.

Imagine Picachu in a three-piece suit. With a lot of hair. Really stoned.