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I tried to be funny in today’s post, but NOTHING. Imagine you’re a man and you’re in bed with the most beautiful woman and she’s moving down your body with her hand, breasts, and mouth, and just NOTHING. Nothing but anxiety and stress. Not that I would know anything about that, but I’m just using this as an example to help you understand my dilemma about being “funny” today.
I’ve been so stressed out for the last couple of weeks. Desperate times require desperate measures.
I haven’t smoked a joint since I was fourteen years old (even then I was wimpy and didn’t really inhale (just like President Clinton — I totally believed him!).  For some reason, because of Sophia’s surgery, I thought it would be good idea to smoke a joint today and do some relaxing with Pink Floyd on the “stereo.”  Of course, I’m too cheap to actually buy marijuana, so I got together some “virtual pot.” And you know what — I’d like to share it with YOU — because I’m sure you can use some today, as well. Who wants to be sitting in the office on a Wednesday afternoon?Â
Mom, even you can “burn one” (that’s pot slang for smoking) if you want. I think I may even have some real pot in the back of my underwear drawer left over from years ago.
(If you are a teenager and reading this blog, please do not try any of my virtual pot without your mother’s permission. Or wait until she is totally high and will let you do anything.)
OK, I’m smoking my joint now. Oh, that was good.  Oh, man, I am so high.  I just want to take off all my clothes and eat potato chips.  I love the Dark Side of the Moon! It speaks to me!
Who am I passing the joint to next?Â
Virtual pot. Pffft. Like I said, I can be there in a half an hour. You know, if you want something a little less…er…virtual. Ahem.
Be careful, Neil. Smoking virtual pot can lead to a virtual bust by the virtual fuzz, man.
wait… you’re supposed to be high to justify getting naked and eating potato chips? i just thought i was being practical all those years, what with the greasy crumbs and all.
the only pot i’m interested in is a pot of tea, now that relaxes me.
Rhea? Better Safe? What ever happened to your adventurous spirit? To those wild nights in the back of the Buick?
Better Safe –A pot of tea?!
Is Non-Highlighted Heather the only hot-blooded woman out there? (Well, actually, probably TOO hot-blooded for me…)
Hmmmm, I’m more of a hot bubble bath with pink floyd playing and a glass of wine, rather than smoking with pink floyd playing kind of girl. 🙂
But, all told, I’d say your entitled considering the amount of stress you are under.
Me! Me! Me! You can pass it to me!
In the crazy place that I live, pot is very expensive (and no, it’s not legal yet in Canada, not even in the Yukon where many of our government officials have criminal records-including our premier) so we could use some of that virtual pot, for sure.
“Pass the pipe, the pipe, let’s pass the pipe”.
Hot bubble bath + wine is probably more dangerous than the pot, but I like baths too. Unfortunately, my current bathtub was built for someone less than five feet. One day, my dream is to have a bathtub where I don’t have to sit all scrunched up.
By the way, Kyra, that image of you in the bubble bath was sort of hot.
Is Heather the only true pothead out there? C’mon, I can’t believe that!
How very topical a post. I’ve been listening to Roger Waters’ Pros and Cons of Hitch Hiking album this morning. And, virtually speaking, I’m with you on the rest.
Pass it to me. I’ll laugh my ass off, eat junk food and then take a nap.
Sounds like heaven.
Great… Chez and Finn… enjoy! Wait…hold on… Finn… not the whole thing! Save some for the others…
I’ll pass the (virtual) grass!
I don’t need any more anxiety, which is what virtual pot will certainly give me if it’s anything like the real thing! “Do I need to confess this at church this week? Do you think my baby cousins can tell by looking at me? Oh lord I’m a horrible god-mother!”
Me next! Of course you’re under immense stress and anxiety – Sophia and you have been through so much….I can relate as I have had numerous surgeries for a chronic condition and live with chronic pain. That can wear on both an individual and a relationship and it’s neccessary to vent (i.e. smoke pot :-)) Just know I am thinking about you and Sophia and BTW I LOVE Dark Side of The Moon – it IS the album for all time. Thanks for the doobie – I’m Comfortably Numb..
great, now the narcs will be storming your mom’s home and searching your underwear drawer.
and if you want to see Roger Waters…click for tix
ah, neilochka, this proves it. You are light years more cool than me. I’ll take you up on the offer, but rumor has it I’ll bogart it because I don’t know what the eff I’m doing. Just saying.
I’ve had enough percocet in the last two weeks to last a lifetime.
So, smoke on. And send Sophia my best.
Wait…put “The Wizard of Oz” DVD in, sync up “Dark Side” and then you’ll really enjoy the buzz. It’s, like, totally awesome.
“doobie” “bogart it” — I haven’t heard these terms in years! I’m sure there are more cooler phrases nowadays, for when I write than teenage drug novel.
Deezee — Roger Waters — Hollywood Bowl! Are you going? Are you bringing your son? You think that’s still his real hair in that photo? It’s Hollywood perfect! Even better than Paul McCartney’s.
Neil, I grew up with two older brothers, and I’m pretty certain I could’ve had access to some “stuff”. But I never EVER tried pot.
However…when I was about twenty, I went to a Billy Joel concert with everyone smoking pot around me. After the concert, I tried to get high by sniffing my sleeve. Damn, it didn’t work! (okay, you can all stop laughing at me now)
I find this post funny, especially because I’m supposed to be cheering Sophia up, because she has not idea what we’re talking about! Doobies? Dark Side of the Moon?!
But in Israel, she says they get the real stuff… like hashish from Arab countries.
Pearl — That must have been a pretty good Billy Joel concert!
Neil,
Yes, I’m going. Yes, I’m taking my son because I simply must remain cool in my teen’s eyes so he doesn’t kick me to the curb.
(I can’t speak to the hair…)
Ladies and gentleman, winner of the 2007 Coolest Mother of the Year award —
Deezee! (who takes her son to rock concerts)
Tonight is high school graduation (get it, ‘high’ school) so my son and I say……spark it and pass it!
Heh. I never pass up freebies.
Ahhh… Pot, Dark Side of the Moon, a red light bulb, and a water bed. Magic, pure unadulterated MAGIC!
Most folks say that my natural state is like I’m already on drugs. Therefore, they think it is better that I not do any. Because who knows what kind of crazy I could become.
I missed commenting at 4:20.
I’m in if you work the lighter. I’ve been known to start my hair on fire. It’s a special talent.
If my kid found out about Roger Waters at the HWBowl I would quickly be deep in debt. He’s been playing the Floyd (and ELP, and Neil Young, and Alan Parsons) daily for more than a year. It’s the ultimate bad flashback, man. Shine on, you crazy diamond.
I am fully in agreement with those who lobby for medicinal use of the real thing. I believe it would have helped my mother when she was ill, and she wanted it to be legal in that controlled way.
Pass it to me, Finn. Or I’ll just bogart it. We’ll laugh our asses off together, and while you’re eating the junk food (what do you fancy?). I’ll make some brilliant pen and ink drawings, get paranoid that the Uni-Pigs are going to raid the dorm and then turn off all the lights to pretend nothing’s going on, thus not be able draw anymore, explore my memory in the dark to proclaim undiscovered amazing symbolism in Greek mythology, think it would be a great idea to read “Kubla Khan” just now, trip over you, fall asleep on the way to the bookcase in the dark and wonder in the morning where those idiotic drawings on the floor came from.
Drugs are punishable by caning and death here, so I’ll have to pass it on. Damn — I hate when that happens! I can smooth out with “Dark Side of the Moon”, though.
The virtual stuff isn’t working for me, either. Now who amongst you hotties wants to supply me with the real thing?
Problem is when Mother is high enough, there’s only the roach left- burns bad enough to put any non-masochist off. Right? Still trying to figure out the ABBA thing. How could anyone be offended by Swedish wonder bread?