Nope, I Can Still Smell It.

My friend gave me some pot for my 40th birthday and I’m terrified of it. I haven’t really smoked The Sweet Mary Jane since a quarter ounce cost $25.  In my day  you could go through a whole joint by yourself and question whether you were actually stoned. You didn’t have to worry about smelling like weed unless[…]

Day 288: Jah, Rastafarai?

I passed out during a Jimmy Cliff concert at Wyandot Lake when I was 17. My friend and I had discovered “dub,” which is a sub genre of reggae that’s even more geared toward ganja. We only had one album, “Black Ash” and every song was named for a different drug; “Marijuana,” “Heroin,” “Lambsbread,” and[…]

Day 104: Legalize it, I guess.

Pot is legal in California and the potheads are gonna blow it because they can’t be cool for even a second. We were at Venice Beach today which is like an outdoor head shop at this point. It’s difficult to explain a bong to a 3 year old. Every block there was a shirtless bro[…]

Day 75: This might be the drugs talking …

There are situational prerequisites for every drug. Different ones require different moods, have unique effects and all result in beautifully different hangovers like little snowflakes of pain and regret. I’m sober now, but here’s my take on the more popular ones as I experienced them. Alcohol Before: Uh oh, there are people here. During: Look[…]