pass the hash

No topic is off limits here, as far as I'm concerned.


So let's talk about the ganja.


I am not in the mood to discuss anything hard, or any instances that involved me ever waking up in a gutter on the Bowery with a needle sticking out of my arm. We are also not here to talk about my drug pushing days in a tiny bar on the Lower East Side where all I wanted was some free snow or green so I thought trafficking mainline narcotics and riding around the block in a windowless van a couple times a week was a fantastic life decision.


I'm talking the playpen here - less of a drug, more of an herbal supplement, a muscle relaxer, a bit of creative caffeine.


Last night my friend texted me while I was collecting pushpins from under my bed and asked if I was doing anything and I said no and I asked if he had pot and he said no and I said lame and he said yeah, sucks, he had hash though and I said yikes, come over I guess.


We acted like our 6 year old selves again discovering illegal drugs for the first time and Wikipedia'd how to properly smoke it, because even though I have had it many times I always end up pole dancing on a lamp post in BedStuy at 5 am or waking up in Strawberry Fields in Central Park at 10 am on a Monday morning by myself and wearing a pair of Diesel Jeans I found in the sidewalk trash the night before. (This was 6 years ago, before the age of bedbugs where if you take a shit in a public place you will get gonorrhea, herp 1 & 2, and wake up to a bedbug three ring circus in your house the next day. So relax. I will be the one to tell you how gross I am. Not you.)


Needless to say, Wikipedia was not really the place to find hash smoking instructions, even though we did become briefly enlightened on the making of Honey, I Shrunk the Kids, Natalie Imbruglia's sparkling career, and a couple DSM-IV personality disorders.


We just put a tiny chunk into a one hitter and then the world changed, but not in a bad way, more like the way it's supposed to be for most people when they smoke regular ole pot. But I'm not like that unfortunately. My brain is wired in a way where marijuana takes my natural sense of situation control, enhanced social skills, and common sense and cripples them all to the point where my brain becomes just like a pontoon boat floating in the universe. Or not. That was a stoner thing to say.


In this hash situation I conversed regularly, listened to some music, had some rational discussion, and discovered the joy of putting wildberry frozen yogurt on top of a Sea Salt Kettle chip and then it being the most sensational flavor on earth.


Normally, with regular pot, no matter how good the grade, I more often than not become a maniac. I don't know if this happens to you, but instead of escaping the trenches of my mind and floating seamlessly in the shallow world of family guy and cool ranch doritos, I find that the things I latently worry about and fear in my life move from the back of my mind to the front, and I'm all of sudden staring at the ceiling wondering if I'm calling my dad enough, if I'm getting an eye infection, if I paid a certain bill, what will happen to me one day in life. I cannot not talk on the phone if my very life depended on it, texting becomes an epic Sanskrit decoding workshop, and I feel like even my most nominal conversation skills are not only butchered, but noticed as being poor by everyone present. This is why when people suggest that we take a couple hits before we go to a crowded bar I think they are crazy - the last thing I'm able to do when I'm high is talk to strangers, feel like people are looking at me, and drink excessively. I'm excellent at each of those in every day life, but when I'm stoned out of my gourd I become a worthless little rag doll who seriously wonders if he is going to have a legit heart attack for watching Paranormal Activity.


Does this happen to anyone else? Is it a drug to only be experienced when your life is on such an even keel that you avoid the paranoia? Is it my mental construction that makes me confront rather than escape? And if I know this happens to me then why do I continually sniff out pot like a drug dog everywhere I go??


Thoughts?


That said, my room smells like antique hash and I haven't gotten out of bed yet. I need to be prettyish by five o clock.

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