here’s the problem with marijuana:
back in the olde dayes, a person could be a casual smoker. the THC levels were low enough that you could smoke a joint and have a good time, and you wouldn’t get too spaced out. a few days later, you could smoke another joint and have the same effect. wait a month, and you get the same thing. you’d never have to spend more than $30 on a bag, either, and it would last you for weeks on end.
these days, however, the power-growers have ensured that THC levels are so ridiculously high that you have to go pro, or give it up altogether. pot is no longer for those of us who prefer not to burn brain cells on an hourly basis. you have to be a team player, and you have to get high at least twice a day. otherwise, you’ll never build up the kind of sheer stamina that this shit today requires.
believe me, i LOVES the grass, but i’d rather be that hip college professor who smokes the occasional joint (say, the last weekend of every month). i don’t want to be a daily toker anymore. and i do not ever want to hang around today’s potheads anymore. they’re so freaking ridiculously burnt out that you have to repeat every single thing you say just to have a conversation, and a “normal” conversation is strictly out of the question.
why can’t i just get a dime bag, have it last for a few weeks, and get my stone on once in a while? i’m no longer interested in being a professional pot smoker. i just want to get high maybe 5-10 times a year. but nooooooo… i’d have to pay $90 on a dime, it would last a bloke like me for five years because a single hit would cremate me, and by the time i got around to that third bowl it would be all brown and stale and harsh and nasty. the shit’s just too fucking strong, man.
and when you deal in grass, you have to deal with someone who’s a TRUE professional. they spark up maybe ten times in a day (i’m not joking). they can’t understand English anymore, and only speak some funny dialect of some spaced-out moon-language, where every other word is “uh” or “wow” or “muhfuckin” or “what was I saying again?” you don’t want to get to know them too well, because they’ll be over every fucking single day either trying to get high, or trying to get you high. they live for the weed. it’s all they ever do. and usually, it’s some trust-fund baby who’s technically in college or something. they don’t have a job, they just get high all day, every day.
ask them the last time they did this, or did that. they won’t know how to even answer, because they can’t remember the last time they did anything other than “go get brownie mix” or “go to [name]’s to get stoned” or watched this movie fucked up, or played that video game fucked up.
there’s getting stoned, and there’s getting fucked up. and there’s a real good reason why they call it getting fucked up.
i remember when the highlight of the summer was the time that you got super-stoned… because it wasn’t an everyday thing to get that baked (and you could actually remember it years later). and you could actually talk (gasp!) physics with people who understood. try to explain string theory to any stupid college dork with a half a bag of really good grass in his/her blood now and all you’ll get are weird quit-tryin’-to-kill-my-buzz-with-all-that-smart-talk vibes, or, at best, some blabber-mouthed fool will try to relate to you by telling you about this one time when they were so stoned that yadda yadda yadda, or they’ll ask you if you ever noticed how the government never has an adequate explanation for Men In Black (“uh… you mean the film Men In Black?” “no, man… the movie! you ever seen it fucked up? I think it’s REAL, dude!”).
on the other hand, what the hell happened to LSD-25??? you have to wait for it to come to your state’s region, and then you have to deal with someone you don’t know, and then you have to shell out $25 for 4-5 really weak hits, because you’ll need it all to get any kind of truly psychedelic effect. and then you have to wait another year for it to come around again. by that time, your dealer has gone rock, fried his brain cells to smithereens, now carries a gun at all times, and you can’t even remember his name because you don’t want to.
god dammit! all i want is to get my mind excavated once in a while! why can’t i just get some cheap mediocre grass now and again? why can’t i find any other casual tokers anymore? why is it that you’re either on the bus, or off the bus these days? why do you practically have to sign a commitment to fry every single remaining brain cell within three years and never have an enlightening conversation again?! why do you absolutely HAVE to get high every six hours now?!?
