(By Smoking Pot)
by Jesse Vernon
I would love to share a spliff with Betty Crocker. Especially
her 1965 incarnation (the hottest), with those delicate pearls, her
flipped bob, sharp eyes, and flirty smirk. She’d sit on the counter
while I did the work, doling out wise guidance (“Grease your pan with
unsalted butter”) interspersed with anachronisms (“Peanut butter
cookies are a favorite with men and children”), her blazed grin and
glazed eyes defying her corporate creators.
See, baking is magic disguised as domesticity. And magic should
always be done high. First, take a hit (or two). Then take a bunch of
ingredients that can’t hold their own (unsweetened chocolate scarred my
childhood), combine them in a particular order with precise
measurements, swirl them around with instruments of varying shape and
composition (wood here, steel there, silicone intermittently), and
apply heat. In the time it takes to smoke a bowl, your gooey brownish
blobs will have transfigured into little glistening disks of delight.
Ta-da. Even the most epicurean of potheads has fallen prey to the lure
of the quick and easy munchie fix, but the restorative powers of any
off-the-shelf sugar bomb are paltry in comparison to a treat of your
own creation.
While pot expands the breadth of my senses—mundane textures
become fascinating (slimy, elusive egg whites; silky, billowing flour),
common smells become seductive (melting butter, caramelizing
sugar)—it also finely hones them. My sober friends would be
surprised to learn that a lot of my best snacks are made under the
influence. The neuroses-enhancing side of pot is helpful, especially if
you’re already a details person: With near-neurotic accuracy, I’ve
learned to heed Betty’s direction (her Cooky Book is my holy
book) and create bites of perfection. As long as I remember to set the
timer.
(By Smoking Pot)
by Brendan Kiley
I was 15 and not so good at gardening, which was too bad
because gardening was my job. Being outside was nice (when it wasn’t
November) and I liked the idea of being a gardener (like Gregor
Mendel), but the actual gardening could be crushingly
dull—especially
weeding the perennial beds at the neighbors’
house where I worked on Saturdays. Starting was easy, but I’d get
restless and rush through the job, leaving weeds in my wake.
Rick, the other gardener, was studying graphic design at an art
college. He was a nice guy, but my lousy work ethic frustrated him.
“You’re a good worker when you want to do something,” he would say.
“But when you’re bored, you’re useless.” Then he’d go back to talking
about music and girls and stuff.
One Saturday, he solved my problem. We went into the woods and
smoked some pot out of his small, silver pipe.
The garden I stumbled back into was not the garden I’d left. It was
brighter and richer, I paid more attention to textures and colors, and
the plants seemed to have grown personalities while I was gone. The
work was suddenly fun, my attention span seemed infinite, and lunch
came faster than ever. (That afternoon, eating chips and salsa was like
discovering a continent.) Pruning roses, transplanting
Crocosmia, turning the compost piles—it was all fun, fun,
and fun. I could sit out in the dirt, let my mind wander, and happily
weed my life away.
Gardening was the gateway drug. Eventually I learned pot improved
all kinds of chores: laundry, sweeping, scrubbing the bathroom. A puff
is to my patience what a can of spinach is to Popeye’s muscles. Don’t
want to do the dishes tonight? Just hand me a joint and a sponge.
(By Smoking Pot)
by Christopher Frizzelle
I n middle school, I quit swim team, watched my parents’
marriage self-destruct, and ate a lot of Cheez-Its. I would stack them
between my fingers and eat the stack. One day after school, I unsealed
a jar of Planters Dry Roasted Peanuts and ate it in a sitting. Then for
dinner: Taco Bell, Burger King, or pizza. Military family. In the
suburbs. Trying to save money. In high school, my brothers played
sports and stayed in shape; I started the school newspaper and literary
magazine, and produced them almost single-handedly (with the assistance
of Planters Dry Roasted Peanuts). You get so fat that, at a certain
point, not eating another homemade chocolate-chip cookie isn’t
going to do you any fucking good—you’re so far gone already, and
it’s not like you have any friends to impress, and it’s not like you
can come out of the closet in your shitty town anyway—so you just
go ahead and eat it. The next time you see a chocolate-chip cookie, you
do the same calculation. By the time I was 17, I was six foot four, 280
pounds. I used to say, “I’m big boned.” My older brother would say,
“How big can bones be?”
If you start running every other day after school, you notice very
little change. It wasn’t until I kept running and stopped
eating—almost entirely—that anything changed. I always knew
it was a corrective measure and not a long-term solution, though.
Simply avoiding Taco Bell and Planters Dry Roasted Peanuts doesn’t do
it. If your body has been very fat before, your body would like to be
fat again. The only thing to do is to make working out a regular part
of your life, a three-or-four-times-a-week thing.
Lifting weights is, of course, boring. Goddamn, it’s boring. Here,
pick this up and put it down again and again and again and again and
again—times a million. I tried lifting weights for years and
could never stick with it past a month or two. Then one day, a friend
confessed a secret. REALLY?! Right before going to the gym? Don’t you
have trouble breathing after having all that smoke in your lungs? Don’t
you get tripped up while warming up on the treadmill? Don’t you
accidentally drop things on yourself? He insisted I try it, and we
did—and lifting weights, and running, and the state of my biceps
have never been the same. Pot takes any rote activity (see also:
parenting, cleaning, baking) and turns the boringness into mental
candy. It makes time stretchy. It limits your ability to focus too long
on anything, so you don’t get stuck thinking about how repetitive
something is. You can run forever: Between the pot and the music in
your headphones, you’re on a bodiless plane of existence. Pain is kind
of fun, so you can lift more than usual. (Be careful.) And, because
you’re breaking the law, you’ve got a secret—a mischievous habit,
a private rebellion—that you associate with going to the gym (a
corporate, brightly lit, rule-bound environment) that happens to make
the gym really fun.
I’m in better shape than ever. I finally have muscles. The last of
my love handles will be gone soon. People always ask me about having
been fat, about how I lost it, about how I keep it off. Some friends
simply think I’m unusually dedicated to health and fitness. The truth
is, I’ve just been smoking a lot of pot.
(By Smoking Pot)
by I. Havenoballs*
W hen my daughter was born in December, my life took the
expected course correction. Excessive drinking, video games, smoking
pot, chronic masturbation—save for that last item, each weapon in
my free-time arsenal was dismantled, melted down, and converted into
things like bottles, diaper bins, and tools to combat meconium.
Recently, however, smoking has started to make a bit of a comeback.
Gone are my days of waking and baking, but one thing I’ve learned over
the past eight months is that when it comes to the mind-numbing
repetition of playtime, a little puff makes the experience not just
bearable, but enjoyable. It helps keep me sane—and during the
first year of parenthood, sanity tends to be in short supply.
Take my daughter’s current obsession with a set of cheap plastic
cups. These cups vary in size and color, and she can spend hours having
me stack them in the proper order just so she can quickly unstack them.
It’s a game that never gets boring for her; every time the cups are
stacked, it’s as if they’ve been stacked for the very first time. And
during these extended sessions of monotony—first green cup, then
blue cup, then red cup, then yellow cup, then orange cup, then rinse
and repeat—a quick hit of pot can cut through the stress and
noise that comes with new parenthood and instead keep me focused,
patient, and engaged with my daughter’s development. And that, really,
is all that matters.
(By Smoking Pot)
by David Schmader
O ne of the traits I inherited from my German-on-both-sides
family is a deep drive for certainty, tidiness, and order—three
things in short supply during the act of writing, or at least during
the early stages of writing, when making a mess is the point.
Brainstorming, jotting down half-formed ideas, banging out messy first
drafts—these tasks made my skin itch. Saddled with a brain
obsessed with finding the Right Answer (or as Germans sometimes call
it, the Final Solution), I found myself paralyzed by the possibilities,
as my would-be happy playground of creativity morphed into a gulag
rigged with a million ways to be wrong.
And then I smoked pot. For some people, pot means munchies and
moving in what feels like slow motion; for others, stress and
sleeplessness. For me, pot is the perfect stupefier, slowing down my
frantically racing
thoughts—OhmygodwhatamIgoingtowrite
andhowamIgoingtowriteitandwheredoIstart
andwhatdoIincludeandhowdoIincludeit?—to
the point where each thought can be addressed individually, while
leaving me with enough brain power to do the addressing. Properly
stoned, I could wade through the swamp of messy imperfection that lay
before every finished piece and finally start writing.
Before long, I was getting paid for my writing—a lucky break
that came with an implicit invitation to become a professional pothead.
Luckily, the work doesn’t pay enough to support such an arrangement, so
eventually I set about learning nonpot methods of stupefying my
answer-seeking brain. Mundane things like sitting still for 15 minutes
and breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. But there’s
no denying that the welcome mat to this new way of being was a big wad
of pot.
(By Smoking Pot)
by I. M. Whipped*
T he only thing worse than spending time with your own family
is spending time with someone else’s family. Sober.
For years, I was dragged to Thanksgivings, Christmases, and Easters
with my wife’s family, which is about as right-wing nutso as you can
get without joining a militia. My father-in-law is a Fox-News-loving,
we-need-a-border-fence-now, George W. apologist. He is a mountain man.
I am a city slicker who works for an artsy-fartsy homo newspaper. We
have little in common.
Normally at family functions, I’d sit in the corner, try not to make
eye contact, and only make small talk when escape was not an option.
There was never any booze, making all my other problems—social
anxiety, a psychological aversion to family time—agonizing. Then
Christmas 2006 happened. As gun-nut uncles, pregnant teenage nieces,
and trailer-park-dwelling grandparents held hands and prayed to baby
Jebus around the living room of a suburban home, my wife, my
sister-in-law, and I snuck out, drove around, and smoked out of a
gross, resin-stained glass pipe until we were suitably baked and
alarmingly affable. It was a Christmas miracle, and it has since become
a holiday tradition—a permanent solution to any anxiety about
spending time with family.
Now, septuagenarian aunts’ and uncles’ stories about internal family
battles seem like fascinating epic poems, sitting on a couch and
staring into space is no longer a chore, and engagement in small talk
is less teeth-grindingly awful. Smoking pot hasn’t made me like these
people any more, but it makes my wife not want to strangle me so much
now that I’m perfectly willing to sit and talk to her dad about
computer parts and the benefits of FAT32 and NTFS file systems for the
better part of an hour. And if I get stoned enough, I barely remember I
was there at all.
(By Smoking Pot)
by Ari Spool
H aving sex on dope is almost everything your parents said you
should never do, with the exception of eating ice cream for breakfast.
But we all know by now that the things your parents specifically railed
against are the things your parents were totally doing when you weren’t
looking.
The reasons your parents were (are) having all that sex on all that
dope: (1) It just feels better, and (2) you can tell the other
participant what you really want to do without feeling shy. When my
roommates go to bonetown after smoking a blunt in the living room, I
hear slapping. When they are sober, it sounds boring—not even any
moaning. And they’ve been dating forever; they know each other inside
and out. Stony sex is way easier and cheaper and hotter than couples
counseling or being instructed to dress up or other weird things that
couples on TV do when “the magic runs away.” Also, I don’t know about
you, but I get all pouncy and am way more liable to look at you next to
me on the couch with popcorn on your shirt and give you that
look. I am thinking “RRRAAAWWWRRR MAKE ME NAKED!”
This is way healthier than the drunken “RRRAAAWWWRRR,” because I
already know you. We were just getting stoned on the couch together,
we’re at least buddies or probably even dating, and pot hasn’t made you
look any hotter than you actually are (weed doesn’t give you drunk
goggles). I am making a much more educated and safe decision, with no
weird, shameful walk home in the morning. And there’s no rush. Take it
slow, baby.
I honestly don’t know why you would ever have sex without getting
stoned first. Those fun sex jokes are more likely to happen, and maybe
there will be tickling. You have no one to tickle? Well, it makes
masturbation better, too. I’m talking to the dames. Maybe you’re kind
of nervous about it? Like, you just bought this new dildong and you are
looking at it and, let’s be honest, you aren’t sexually
attracted to it. And you are gonna do WHAT with it? On weed, that
weirdness goes away. You just nod and proceed to make yourself happy
enough to never shoot up any fitness centers, ever. 
* Pseudonyms for Stranger writers who are wusses.
A cure for personality disorders! a cure for some pain! a cure for insomnia! and a cure for post traumatic stress disorders! pot brings a wide variety of relief for many!
not mentioned much is a hallucinogenic quality that can leave first time users and many time users in a total spaz is a Paranoia brought about by your mind tuning in and out?
you may hear voices! Real voices may sound closer than they really are and the rhythm of rain or the hum of a fan may bring out strange noises that can lead to a paronia state.
Some can smoke pot like they breath air and some can just smoke a little bit before they need to stop!
You have to be aware of your self and stay away from morons who have no brains for pot to affect as they will keep passing you a joint all day and night!
like all “good” drugs you can use it or abuse it?
slightly addictive as all good things are like sex and chocolate pot is a natural goodness of earth and there should be a giant statue somewhere on the earth to represent what it means and in fact has “dose” for people over the existence of human life?
Unable to hook people like the opium dens of old and all of the other “pimp” drugs that have dealers turning people into slaves pot is brings in the heavyweight class of drugs as its take it or leave it and you can do both!
Very much the herbal tea of drugs its very much a medication when used in moderation and respected for its individual effect on different people.
Can’t say I blame Mr. Stoned Parent- Even though I understand the need to get stoned while babysitting in order to preserve one’s sanity, articles like this can be misconstrued and used against you by Child Protective Services and Divorce Lawyers.
I love this article! Thanks for sharing, guys.
this article was awesome, made my day. Agree completely.
i have infinitely more respect for frizelle after reading that.
Pot just freaks me the fuck out. Next thing I know, I’m peaking through the blinds, asking where the cops are.
*peeking
You guys are retards! Smoking pot hasn’t improved your lives – it’s only improved your perception of your inept qualities.
Pot doesn’t make you better in bed, it just blocks your ability to sense how bad you are.
I believe it works well for gardening & hanging around the in-laws – but the fat ass is still a looser for needing to get stoned to enjoy moving his body the way humans are intended to.
The shitty parent is a real fuck up for having to get high to appreciate their kid over bar-hopping & jacking off!
Take a little interest in something other than yourselves and get over your overblown sense of entitlement.
It’s an interesting read. Being a total square, I’ve never tried anything more “wicked” than whiskey.
@1 All drugs have side effects, and the Stranger is not the FDA.
And really, how much of the readership of the Stranger do you think hasn’t tried marijuana?
How to Come Up with Really Good Ideas (by smoking pot):
Well, it’s pretty straightforward. Just smoke some pot and you’ll come up with some fairly interesting ideas (your friends will too!). Here are some gems we’ve come up with:
1.) Afghan Mountain Ride Extreme for Wii – You attach your wii-mote to your couch and you go down a mountain in Afghanistan; the catch is that you have to dodge goats and bombs exploding at you.
2.) The title of my first novel: “The Shed of Dignity”.
2a.) Then go on a book tour, and let people ponder what the philosophical meaning of which the title is indicative. After people are exhausted from theorizing, come clean that you made the title up when you were stoned. The end.
Yep…these things are all so stupid.
@8
Were you beaten by a marijuana plant as a child or something?
You guys are retards! Your lives aren’t any better, you’ve just blocked out how inept you are at fucking, parenting and writing.
I believe it works well for gardening and dealing with the in-law!
But if you need to get stoned in order to enjoy moving your body the way humans are intended to, then I’m sorry fat ass, you sound like a real boring piece of work! It’s not exercise’s fault you aren’t motivated, it’s yours for destroying yourself w/ cheese-its!
Shitty Parent is a major fuck up for needing to get stoned to appreciate her child over bar hopping and jacking off!
Your over blown sense of entitlement and self absorbed narcissism is nothing to brag about. You’re still inept – you’re just to stoned to notice.
Oops, I wouldn’t have posted twice if this website worked properly – stoners!
oh man…i laughed so hard. perfect!
@12 i love you soooooooooooo much.
The most amazing thing that I have discovered while smoking is that Oscar The Grouch & The Grinch are THE SAME PERSON. Think about it. They are both green, grumpy, grouch & grinch are pretty similar words, both live in shitty houses, both have very large & dark eyebrows, both are hairy.
That’s the ridiculous thing about with the hempfest crowd — pot cures EVERYTHING!
I attended some lectures at last year’s event and the speakers stressed the need to mainstream marijuana, to get the majority of Americans comfortable with it. These were followed by an expert who explained how hemp oil had cured cancer in 2 weeks and can almost instantly cure virtually every disease known to man.
I’m all for legalization myself — it doesn’t make any sense to me for pot to be illegal when alcohol is legal, let alone prevent doctors from prescribing it to patients. But you’re not going to be very persuasive in mainstreaming it when your leading spokesmen are spouting claims that sound patently absurd to anyone who does not have a religious zeal for all things pot.
#8 is just jealous because he’s a total bitter asshole and no one wants to share a joint with him.
See, I liked this article. I’m like Kim in that I haven’t smoked before, and previously the only justification I ever really heard from potheads I have known was “it’s cool” and “i like it,” which honestly isn’t very convincing. (Well, there was also “it helps me forget how shitty and miserable my life is,” but, uh, that was not applicable to my situation.)
But I do hate weeding. And scrubbing the bathroom. And while I don’t have a baby, I’d imagine if I did, I’d be pretty bored, because babies, and the care, feeding and entertainment thereof, are boring.
@17 Wow! Dude. That’s like, so… right. I never thought about it that way before, but it totally is.
hahaha- damn people be taking this seriously!! again i still agree- awesome write up. You guys are correct, and NO-weed does not “improve your perception of your inept qualities”. that’s a cop out. Have you ever ridden a bicycle HIGH!???!?! OMGGG
@8 aka Sall — This is a PUBLIC CHALLENGE to your “it’s only improved your perception of your inept qualities.”
Let’s compete. Me high, you not. I will take you on in anything, high. Basketball one-on-one, jam rock out, baking, dancing, arithmetic, foot sprint, pull up contest. You name it.
We can video tape the results and post. I’d be interested!
drugs, alcohol, sex….blah blah blah. The Stranger and it’s ownership knows what attracts readers. Thanks for more of the same usual crap.
I lit up at work today in tribute to this article. Huzzah!
#18 Look in to the research on which those claims are founded. Using a search engine, you could find a pile of scientific demonstrations of cannabis killing cancer cells in probably less time than it took you to respond to this article.
I find this incredibly disturbing. Pot is not the panacea for all ills. It really is subject to individual experience.
It makes me paranoid and psychotic.
As result, my averssion to pot only adversly effects my social status in the Pacific Nothwest (my peers are bewildered why I keep passing bowl … I have no conceivable weed hook ups either.)
I will fight for peoples right to partake, so long as they don’t marginalize my shitty marijuana experiences.
Individual results may vary!
Fucking Hippies!
as with everything, it’s not for everyone. i just wish the selfish nazis would stop being concerned with what i put in MY body!
holy fucking piss christ! no-one has mentioned ‘Work’?
thank you pot for giving me the perception that work is ‘fun’. oh thank you thank you thank you.
Jeez guys, I thought you’d all be too stoned to care about my posts. Chill out – you’re more sensitive than the fat people Dan picks on.
Like I said, smoking pot while gardening or before meeting the wife’s family (or my own) is a great idea. So is smoking when hiking or during other outdoor recreations.
But using it as a tool to overcome your preference for bar-hopping and wanking vs. spending time w/ your child??? What the fuck?
You guys are relating with a person who has a boredom conflict with exercising and who’s only friends are Cheez-its & Mr. Peanut; and a bar hopping chronic masturbater. Fucking winners!
Your fidelity to any ole positive pot review is disappointing. You guys ever hear that before – that you’re disappointing?
Pot can make the most menial boring tasks entertaining. However, as far as doing productive and important things such as PARENTING, I agree with #8. Play with your kids and interact with them, don’t get stoned and watch them jump off furniture. And I completely disagree w/ working out and smoking. Good luck trying to bench 250 lbs while high. You’ll probably crush your rib cage.
@ 23, I like challenges! Pull up contest sounds fun! But if you’re good at pull ups then you’re good at pull ups, stoned or not. So What will that prove?
I’m not saying people who smoke marijuana are losers, that would be ridiculous , I’m just saying the ones in this contrived Stranger write up are…and most of these sloggers are too.
That’s their excuse for smoking it, not because it’s fun at work or on a bike ride, but because they’re lousy fat ass disappointments to themselves.
who cares about any of this wishing bullshit? it’s futile. i’ve been smoking for like 5 years and the one thing i’ve learned over that period of time is: those who think weed should be legalized will ALWAYS think weed should be legal. and those who think that it should remain illegal…have never tried it, and probably won’t because they’re so narrow minded and set in their ways that they will not compromise. pro-legalize and anti-legalize people are alike in this one area, they’re not going to change their minds. and unfortunately, for the time being, pro-weed followers are the minority. so stop complaining, thinking you’ll actually change something, and just wait. it’ll be legal soon enough. and if not, keep in mind that it’s the easiest drug to find and to grow.
Smoking pot also helps me read articles about pot on the internet…
I’m no expert in the field of childcare or marriage for that matter but you seem to have a real problem with this guy masturbating, and I dont see why. Is it like illegal to do when you have kids or something?
Also how could you blame the guy? Did you read his story? Instead of being uninterested by doing silly things his daughter enjoyed, he enjoyed participating. How is that a negative? Hes not getting stoned and ignoring his daughter or letting his girl starve like hundreds of junkie parents have done in the past. No instead hes being a good parent and enjoying, man what an asshole.
This article is incredible. It makes me sad that I have no pot on hand to honor it! I’ll get some tomorrow :3
@12 you’re amazing XD
@27 are you a really mean person or just grouchy today? The article didn’t say that pot is for everyone. I recommend that people try it once, but I’m not gonna judge if they don’t want to or if it’s just not for them, just like I expect not to be judged for my personal choices that don’t hurt anyone. Pressure sucks, dude. We’re not making you do anything!
@36 … I get cranky, because asshat weed fiends DO marginalize my marijuana experience, when I lived in Vermont, when I lived in Oregon, and sometimes in Seattle.
But I think it’s great that it works for them!
@ 35, No problems with people masturbating here! Take a deep breath. I don’t mention that I have a problem with pot either in any of my posts – just this bad write up.
I’m joking around more than anything by picking on these guys.
But as a young parent myself I can blame the guy. I think that people who need to get stoned to appreciate their kids (that is basically what he said he has to do) probably wouldn’t recognize their own kid in a lineup of children – not because they’re stoners, but because they are too involved with themselves every second of the day to really pay attention to other people’s needs.
Don’t any of you damn teenagers ever have a sense of selflessness anymore?
A great read! We lead a similar life my friend…and a wonderful one it is.
After reading the comments I felt I must remind people that those who smoke often are more tolerant to side effects (like paranoia) making it easier to deal with day to day activities high, such as working and exercising. Having no kids, I can’t relate to the parenting part but I can imagine it being a blast when playing with your kids.
To this guy ‘sall’ guy. Eat a dick. But first, pull your head out your ass and read this:
Read your comments again:
“You guys are retards! Smoking pot hasn’t improved your lives – it’s only improved your perception of your inept qualities.That’s their excuse for smoking it, not because it’s fun at work or on a bike ride, but because they’re lousy fat ass disappointments to themselves.” -sall
You don’t know everything, you obviously don’t know what people think, and you’re missing out on life acting like you do.
Sorry, but you sound like the “retard”.
I’m guilty to all of the above. In fact, pot has helped me in my career as well. I work in IT and it’s hard to describe how extremely repetitive and boring it can be. Working with computers however, is the easy part. The real challenge is to having to repeat for the 10th time to boomer generation inept computer users, how you create a shortcut, send an attachment, or other retarded instructions kids of today learn when they’re 6-8 yo. Not to mention the Buddhist like patience required to deal with inflated CEO’s who have crackberries, iPhones, Vonage routers, 4 different computers, and want you to install and sync everything to work in the entire world with the click of a button, when they can barely access a freely available wireless network without instructions.
In short, pot has helped me deal with these people. Initially my Lutheran upbringing and drug scare programming told me that I was a looser for smoking pot on the job. Now after I’ve doubled my salary from 40 to 80k a year, and recently took a position on a Caribbean island to dodge the shoddy employment market in Cali, Luther ain’t got nothing on me. The Jamaican dirt weed being boated into this country is not as good as the California uberweed I’m used to. But hey, it does the job. So do I, with a smile on my face, these days raking in even more cash since it’s tax free here on the island. Thank you Mary Jane.
I’m guilty to all of the above. In fact, pot has helped me in my career as well. I work in IT and it’s hard to describe how extremely repetitive and boring it can be. Working with computers however, is the easy part. The real challenge is to having to repeat for the 10th time to boomer generation inept computer users, how you create a shortcut, send an attachment, or other retarded instructions kids of today learn when they’re 6-8 yo. Not to mention the Buddhist like patience required to deal with inflated CEO’s who have crackberries, iPhones, Vonage routers, 4 different computers, and want you to install and sync everything to work in the entire world with the click of a button, when they can barely access a freely available wireless network without instructions.
In short, pot has helped me deal with these people. Initially my Lutheran upbringing and drug scare programming told me that I was a looser for smoking pot on the job. Now after I’ve doubled my salary from 40 to 80k a year, and recently took a position on a Caribbean island to dodge the shoddy employment market in Cali, Luther ain’t got nothing on me. The Jamaican dirt weed being boated into this country is not as good as the California uberweed I’m used to. But hey, it does the job. So do I, with a smile on my face, these days raking in even more cash since it’s tax free here on the island. Thank you Mary Jane.
sorry for the double-post, so much for my IT credentials. i blame the molasses slow jamaican wireless connection i’m using that didn’t update my page. or perhaps it’s just my impatience since i haven’t smoked for days. see how that goes. peace all.
Great article – although it’s not a panacea, it can definitely narrow you into a mindset that is conducive to what you’re doing… alternatively, it can narrow you into mindsets which don’t help whatsoever. It’s up to the person to find out, though!
and @18 (and everyone else, really) – my mom had recurring skin cancer on her nose and was facing expensive (and slightly disfiguring) surgery to remove it permanently until she happened to sit down with me while I was watching the Phoenix Tears documentary. She got an ounce from her friend’s mom with a medical card, made a TINY amount of extract, put it in some carmex ointment and applied it regularly to a band-aid for about three weeks. It’s completely gone.
Nice article, funny stuff.
I smoke regularly, and what I managed to figure out so far is that weed sort of shows to others what you try too hide from the rest of the world. So stuck up people tend to stay that way when high with with the bonus of paranoia, since they tend to over-worry about stuff but mostly about themselves. While naturally relaxed people don’t have such problems, and tend to direct their experiences a lot better.
Pot is mind bending but it is your mind that is bending so if you have bad experiences don’t blame the drugs, they just open some doors into your mind. People should worry about what sort of things go trough your mind rather then what the weed does to you.
People who just say no are boring and suck ass, but are truely a good example of what not to be or become, a prisoner of your own frustrations and worries, or even worse of other peoples expectations.
smoke on
money is the life
Good ol’ mind-numbing pot. The cause of, and solution to, all of our problems.
@ 39, that is a harsh response to some rather tongue & cheek comments! Relax man!
I was commenting on other comments in that quote; and also kind of pretending to be a gym teacher dick while at the same time pointing out how dependent these people are on pot.
A lot of the sloggers seem to enjoy the shit out of it or need it for medical reasons – I’m on board! Totally on board! But the ones in this write up (some of them) are using it to better their parenting and social skills. Kind of codependent and lame if you ask me.
I think you guys are taking the critiques of this write up a little too hard. So I’m going to stop ragging on it.
People are reading these comments as though they are black or white, either all for or all against marijuana use – with me, that’s not the case at all. I think you guys are posing a false dilemma in your reactions to my posts and are being way too hypersensitive on this issue which makes me think you don’t really smoke enough pot.
So, in your cases, smoke on….
So this guy’s a bad parent? What about the father who comes home after work, has 4-5 drinks between dinner/bedtime and is engaged with his child for that time? What about the PTA mom who had back surgery and is now addicted to Percocet/Pain Pills and sleeps 14 hours a day? The show “Intervention” is a classic example, there’s been an episode on almost every addiction in the book, but you won’t find one on weed, because MOST people who are “stoners” smoke responsibly, at the appropriate times, and are more than capable of excelling in their given field.
@ 39, Did you just use imagining what being a parent is like as proof of your argument? That is such a fucking awesome stoner move!
You’re not far from voting a straight republican ticket!
8 has valid points. but, 12 has a better sense of humor. this article was fun to read stoned. you too can be better at reading (by smoking pot).