Medical marijuana has been legal in Canada since 2001—and the recreational kind got our government’s stamp of approval on October 17. That means I can now smoke pot on my porch while eating Cheetos and waving at passing police cars—without going to jail. I wouldn’t do that, of course—I don’t like Cheetos. But I did feel that it was my moral obligation to test out this now-legal product and answer the pressing questions that you, my devoted reader, most certainly want answered. Here you go (and you’re welcome):
Pressing Question #1: What happens if a 55-year-old grandmother blatantly ignores her son’s advice and combines marijuana with wine?
Answer: You’ve seen a sloth climbing a tree, right? Change the sloth to a woman and the tree to a set of stairs, and you’ve nailed it. In my defense, the first cannabis I tried was the stuff that goes under your tongue. It tasted like puréed grass clippings mixed with rancid oil—I had to drown out the taste with wine. A mere 90 minutes later, I was too tired to sit upright and too dizzy to walk, so—proving, once again, that not all women become more dignified as they age—I crawled up the stairs to bed.
Pressing Question #2: What happens if a 55-year-old grandmother eats marijuana gummies while watching a cooking show?
Answer: You’re thinking I ate all the Cheetos, aren’t you? No, smarty pants, I didn’t—because I was unconscious. The gummies weren’t as gag-inducing as the oil, but I think it’s important to note that “not as gag-inducing” does not mean “mild.” The last thing I remember was a TV chef (who was visiting Iceland) spitting out whale meat and announcing that it tasted like a urine-soaked mattress. When I awoke from my gummy-induced coma, he was in Taiwan, eating a baby octopus that had a quail’s egg stuffed in its head.
Okay, I realize marijuana does some impressive things—it’s a real blessing for people with epilepsy, Parkinson’s disease and chronic pain, just for starters. But until my liver figures out that it’s a medicinal herb—not the world’s most expensive sleeping pill—I’m going to stick with the recreational drug that I already know and love: Wine.
This is hysterical.
Thank you, Shelley 🙂
Bwahahaha! Thanks for the laughs (and roundabout warning.)
You’re welcome, Loren – it was all in the name of research 🙂
Oh, my goodness, may the winers of the world unite! Drinking some right now, and might not make the best of my words in this comments, but do love your unique and entertaining sense of humor, Brenda! Sharing with Danny!
Love and blessings to you!
Thank you, fellow wine lover 🙂
are you sure the TV chef was in all those places or was that a drug-induced figment of your imagination (as you lay passed out on your steps)
Yes, he was! (I had to go back a full episode in order to find the Iceland one, though – thought maybe I’d imagined it)
Time for a wee talk ….. DAUGHTER!!!
Love,
Dad
You should probably stop reading my blog, Dad….
Thank you for starting my day out right, Brenda. Rofl!!
My pleasure, Colleen – I hope the rest of your day is productive and stress-free (we can always hope, eh? 🙂
You made my day, Brenda. 🙂
That makes MY day – thanks for letting me know 🙂