Firstly, I apologize for my recent absence. With the holidays and travelling and personal matters I cannot share at this time, and an officially broken wrist, I have been too distracted, tired or sore to go on social media. I needed a break (pardon the pun).
Not much has been going on here but a few minor observances and a shit load of Netflix watching. I’ve watched a few movies I enjoyed like I, Tonya, and the Disaster Artist. I was pleased to see Franco take an award for that. I blew through the Wormwood series in a day, I enjoyed the biographical movie All Eyez on Me about the iconic Tupac Shakur. It’s been pretty quiet here.
Quiet. That’s something I enjoy. Peace and quiet. I don’t like loud things, loud movies, loud shows, loud noises. I’m an aficionado of documentary films and quiet quirky humor without the blatantly obnoxious laugh tracks. I’m a big girl, I know when to laugh, thanks. Even my musical tastes have changed. When going for my MP3s to accompany house cleaning, I’m beginning to shy away from the loud raucous rock and metal that I used to listen to, opting for Radiohead, Wilco or, most recently, Diana Ross and the Supremes. You can’t go wrong with Motown.
Which brings me to the crux of my story. Recently I acquired a medicinal brownie. I’ve been pretty blunt and upfront about the fact that I have a permit/prescription to possess medical cannabis for chronic pain and PTSD. So, I got this brownie.. Keep in mind I am very experienced, a veteran of cannabis if you will. I have been using it for about a decade for pain, I have done my research, I know my strains and I know my doses. I have never had a bad experience… Until now.
This brownie was about 3 inches long and maybe an inch wide. I split it in half. It’s a Saturday night so I offer the other half to my partner so she can relax. Apparently this was not a 2 dose brownie. I repeat, NOT a 2 dose brownie. In actual fact, this was a four or 5 dose brownie. So we unknowingly nibble at our brownies while enjoying a cup of coffee with a little Baileys in it. Mistake number 2. Do not mix said brownie with alcohol, even the wee bit of Baileys you dumped in your after dinner coffee. I put on a recent episode of The Price is Right for shits and giggles. We don’t have cable so occasionally I find game show episodes online for us to watch so we can feel like real people that have cable. The Price is Right was mistake number 3. It was at the second big wheel spin to see who the showcase showdown opponent was going to be when the brownie took hold.
There were flashing lights, bells ringing, thunderous applause, ” It’s a brand new car!!!” , people screaming and molesting Drew, saying hello to every fucking person they knew, people losing their shit screaming down aisles flailing their arms, people pushing past stunned models to grab at their haul of prizes, people screaming random numbers at shocked contestants, weird T shirts begging to Drew to love them, flashy costumes, honking horns, that yodelling Swiss guy, then it’s topped off with guilt about the unneutered pet population.
How do people watch this?
How the fuck does Drew Carey sleep at night? No wonder he’s lost weight, poor bastard probably has PTSD. I sure hope they pay him well and he has a good benefits package.
How did Bob Barker do it all those years? I mean that guy was old as shit when he retired.
That show is like an overdose of Aderall with a hit of meth all in one 21 minute episode. It was too much. TOO MUCH.
This brownie was too much. TOO MUCH.
All we could do was go lay on our bare bed, (I had the brilliant idea of washing the bedding pre-brownie). We had been over stimulated. We grabbed the comforter and threw it over us like a protective fort. Looking at each other under our fort all we could do, was repeat “Too much. Too much. Too much.”
The lights were too much, music was too much, smells were too much, touch was too much, The Price is Right was TOO MUCH.
I vomited a couple of times and crawled back into the fort with “C”. We fell asleep. I eventually woke up and finished the laundry but “C” was out for the night. Lesson learned. Well played meth brownie, well played.
It did get me thinking about how The Price is Right kind of mirrors American society.
Play the game, win prizes!
The more shit, the better!
LOUD LOUD LOUD!! with some screaming for good measure
It’s all about advertising, but throw in some literal bells and whistles and flashing lights and no one’s the wiser!
I want it all now now now
Who cares about the fine print, like duties and taxes that need to be paid, a lot of people don’t even take their prizes because it costs too much. Nothing is truly free but it looks like it is and that’s all that matters
Live Humbly, Start Small, Live Cautiously,
Hank Hill/ too high http://media.ifunny.com/results/2014/02/06/yqeg15gwyf.jpg
Price is Right gif https://uproxx.files.wordpress.com/2014/10/tpir.gif?w=650
Brownie/Selfie are my own.