Thursday, February 23, 2006


It's name, tussionex pennkinetic -A narcotic cough suppressant. Who cares if you don't really have a cough the narcotic effect of this rivals the poppy tea episode. It's so strong that I'm afraid to swig it as I did last night and again this morning. It's 1:15 pm and I'm still feeling it, I also just took a bong hit because cannabis fatty tissue blood cell count was down. Now I wonder if the withdrawals from this bad boy cough syrup will make a situation where the fattiest of spliffs could not even bring me back home.

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Doc in a Box or Wheeler and Dealer?

If they reviewed my history they would see that basically I come in for pain and leave usually with pain medication. I miss all follow ups, and only return when I have a new injury.
So I decide to hit the doc in a box after 10 days of being sick with lung congestion and a killer headache. I assume that they didn't review my records, because they didn't say anything like, "hey you never came back for that x ray, how is your hand?" Or perhaps they did because after a brief examine the doc prescribes me cough syrup which the doc mumbles in my ear, "This is good stuff, it's like two liquid vicodine in a tablespoon!" The doc was assuming of course, that I knew what Vicodine was, and I would be excited to hear the news of such strong cough syrup. It was a correct assumption, and I got so excited the see the multiple DO NOT labels on the bottle. (They are dares of course!) So I'm going to hit some wine and a couple bonghits before this swig of syrup kicks in, too bad I don't own any heavy machinery.

Monday, February 20, 2006


Still sick but with a week off work and nothing pressing, I made a batch of butter to keep me off the pain pills, which help my head but also make me loopy. I go to a mainstream fluorescent light supermarket high as a kite. I decide to cut to the chase, the first alien supermarket employee I see I hit up,"Say can you tell me where the cheesecloth is?" The man looks up from stocking the shelves, he is older than I thought and I notice a crooked eye. This makes me first think what the fuck is happening over there (the direction of the crooked eye), like I'm missing some alien abduction 45 degrees behind me. He says, "I'll walk over there." As I follow him, I wonder if the store is really pushing the customer service or the guy really doesn't know exactly where it is but has a hunch. Once we get there he looks one of his eye into my eyes and says, "What are you making?" Now I wasn't ready for this one. I visualize straining green butter through the cheesecloth. The ball of herb, the twisting cheesecloth and hot dripping green butter. "I don't know," I said, "I'm getting it for my wife." I leave the man and then get to thinking how odd it is for me to go to a store and just buy cheesecloth. I float up and down the aisles, but I can't find anything until I got to the produce where I found a couple of avocados and darted straight to the checkout. "Did you find everything alright?" I thought I found everything a little weird but to avoid small talk I replied, "yes." I pay and then I get "Would you like help out to your car?" from some college kid employee. Now for starters it's overkill on putting my stuff in a bag, and then ask me if I want help out, I had to draw the line. "No thanks, I think I got it."

Saturday, February 18, 2006

The Struggle Continues

No matter how many times I fast or how many times I vow not to indulge in alcohol, I'm always looking for the excuse. It's a terrible feeling to be shackled to these compulsions. A couple weeks ago I had fasted for 5 days with no food and no juice - just teas and lemon water. The result was that I felt great! My only complaint was that at night my core body temperature felt like it dropped and I would spend a good hour shivering in bed, no matter how many blankets were on me. The reason I broke my fast was that my birthday weekend was coming up. My cousin and her boyfriend were coming up and they love to drink. I saw the weekend as an opportunity to eat mexican food and drink maragaritas - and man did I. By 2:30 PM on my b-day I was popping my second tylenol 3 with codeine and drinking my first beer - and it felt awesome! Fast forward to around 8:00 PM after several beverages. I'm in the restaraunt and we are waiting for a table. We sit at the bar and order a cadillac maragarita. If you have never had one I highly recommend trying one or two... The bartender puts this huge fishbowl size maragarita glass on the bar, puts a few cubes of ice in it and begins pouring, I would say, at least 4-5 shots worth of tequila into the glass. It was out of control. He tops it off with the concentrated mix and Grand Marneir (sp?). The drink is deceptive and tastes fantastic. Then I order a shot of tequlia and drink a shot with him. By this time I'm feeling bulletproof. We get a table, sit down and order. I order shrimp fajitas. As I eat them, my friend says, hey you know you're supposed to pull off the tails... I brush aside his comment because I've eaten them both ways. But I'm clearly becoming more drunk and don't give a shit. So I roll up my next fajita, take a bite and the shrimp tail becomes lodged in my throat. The little spikes firmly planted into the roof of my throat, moving nowhere. I try to get air as I just look across the table at my cousin and my friend with my eyes watering in physical struggle to breathe. They look at me in return and think I may be joking or something. It was one of those moments where I thought, okay I"m going to die on my b-day choking on a shrimp tail. It felt almost as bad as Elvis dying on the shitter. I begin moving my diaphragm back and for in a yogic move and managed to reguritate the tail. This is where I begin to black out and become an evil person. Evidently I told my friend across the table that he put a voo doo hex on me and wanted to see me choke to try and teach me a lesson. When we got home, I went straight to bed and was told I was talking on the phone. I don't remember to who... They tried to knock on my door and how to used the remote, I was a total asshole. So let this be a lesson to all. Remove your shimp tails before you eat them.

Friday, February 17, 2006

Bhang Cocktail

In the latest installment of secret recipes, might I present the Bhang Cocktail
Bhang Cocktail
Bhang with Sleepytime tea from Trader Joes

Sounds simple and it is, the result,...a super powerful sedative which makes you pass out and wake up feeling like your brain is one big sponge.

Bhang is created by simmering herb (a joints worth) in water for five minutes, then add fat (milk, soy milk) and simmer for another 10-15 minutes.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

War on Hippies

You know when you get sick, like real sick where you feel high naturally, you don't eat but continue to shit, everything annoys you and you take 20 hour naps? This is beyond the "harvest hack" this illness is like something the CIA came up with their war on terror. I'm telling ya' I'm in rare form, and no amount of herb will take my edge off, in fact I resorted to pain pills and they just make me feel schizophrenic.

I came up with this plot about this cool peace loving guy who self medicates 24/7 in an effort to fend off the real Type A (asshole) dickhead. Slowly his battle loses so he turns to harder and harder stuff in an effort to spare his love ones from the real dude (Mr. A). His love ones in turn fear his ultimate demise and intervene, rehab allows the real self to emerge the victor and he comes out an asshole, bails on his friends and family and starts loathing the peace loving hippies.

So as I was saying sicknesses, make you more sick and you can't wait to get back to normal.

Sunday, February 12, 2006


I wake up extra early on the weekends just to get a few hours of sober thoughts in order to get my work done. However, I think if your job is Monday through Friday, you really shouldn't work on the weekends. I tend to see it as a complusive work a holic disorder that should be aggresively medicated on a continual basis. Yes I

Monday, February 06, 2006

Everybody knows

Making a strong batch of Bhang, having fresh sticky green bud and a finger injury requiring pain pills led to an epic weekend of getting to the place where we all like to be.

Friday, February 03, 2006

Marijuana Pipes

So I get the tip that Johnny has marijuana pipes in his backpack. I take him out of his Special Ed class and bring him back to my office. He is a cancer survivor and the early childhood chemo treatments left him with a slow brain and spotty clumps of hair. I wondered if he could have a medical marijuana prescription and that would trump my potential bust. "Do you have anything in your possession that you shouldn't?" "no" "Well there is only one way to find out about that, may I search your backpack?" The boy takes on a guilty look and says, "sure." I immediately find two handmade pipes. They remind me of when I was a kid and I used to go to the hardware store and buy brass pipe fittings to piece together a pipe. These are worse, the pieces don't even fit and there is an excessive amount of duct tape involved to keep the pieces together. I ask,"Where did you get these?" He says, "I made them last night in my shed at my house." "What were you planning to do with them?" "Give them to my friend." I say,"Alright you need to sit in the other room while I call your mom." I call mom thinking how best to break the news. "Johnny has been found in possession of two marijuana pipes, ma'am." She freaks out! "no no no no no!" "I saw he was making something last night in the shed but those are not marijuana pipes!" "ma'am, they are marijuana pipes and he will be suspended for the next three days." "Did he say that they are marijuana pipes?" A small detail I really never established. I look at the random metal pieces taped together. One looks like a straight one hitter and the other looks like a sorry ass pipe that Sherlock Holmes would smoke, but it has so much duct tape on it, it's really hard to be certain it's even a pipe. Then it dawns on me, perhaps I assumed that they were pipes because I'm a pro myself. I bust a slight sweat, "ma'am you are welcomed to come down yourself and take a look." She replies, "I'll be right over!" In a panic, I call the boy back in,...."So tell me, how did you know how to make a MARIJUANA pipe?" "Why isn't there a screen for this MARIJUANA pipe?" "Why did you make a MARIJUANA pipe?" He replied,"I was mad at my teachers for giving me bad grades, so that got me confused." I thinking shit, he doesn't even have an alibi that makes sense! "How did you know how to make a MARIJUANA pipe?" "I saw things like it in a store window once." In the fifteen minutes it took mom to get to my office, I had successfully coached him into realizing that they were marijuana pipes afterall. I must have said marijuana pipes 50 times in that short period. Of course, I felt a little slimy and bad but it worked, the boy successful told his mom that they were marijuana pipes and I was off the hook.