Above: Real marijuana snacks made legally in California. My friends in LA say all you need to do is to say you're depressed and they give you a marijuana license. Isn't everyone depressed anyways?
I am high and in love with Marijuana. I want to shout my love from high upon the mountains!!!!!
I never used to enjoy smoking weed. All it would do was make me paranoid and jumpy and make my heart race. I had best friend who sold massive amounts, I had free access to it all the time and rarely indulged. And actually, "trafficking" is the correct term for what he did, not "selling." He did eventually get busted and spent 2 years in one of PA's worst prisons where he shared a cell with a murderer. It's a very sad story really. This was a blond jewish boy who loved Opera and played Jazz. He was just really, really good at selling weed...for a while.
This past summer though, I discovered the JOYS OF EATING MARIJUANA, and I want to share that joy with you, dear friend.
Honestly, I love this stuff. Did I say that already? Fair enough: It's true it fucks with your memory a little. But it's only temporary.
Eating weed produces a completely different than smoking it. And it's not all in my head; it's been well-documented that ingesting marijuana produces a markedly different "high" then smoking it. You're not ruining your lungs and you can get high in broad daylight, out in the open without anyone knowing you're getting baked.
Anyways, the high is wonderful. It makes me happy. I am encouraging you to try it. maybe this whole blog will turn into nothing but encouraging people to eat weed.
Finally I'll be socially responsible. I'll be a blog that answers a societal need.
The Need for People to Eat Weed!
Rejoice!
I had it delivered. There are a few things about living in Manhattan that after 2 years still tickle me pink. Wash and fold laundry, for instance. I still feel like a kid opening a present when I get my clothes back all clean and folded. Manhattan Pot Delivery is the latest.
POT DELIVERY SERVICE EXPLAINED:
You call the number, tell them the address of who referred you, talk to some kind of dispatcher, are told that it'll be about 45 minutes and that the "driver" will call you when he's outside.
I was worried that they'd be sketched out because I live in a doorman building. Like it wasn't shady enough. "Should I come down to meet him? I live in a doorman building." I said to the dispatcher. He said it was no problem, the guy would come up to my apartment.
(In doorman buildings the doorman calls up to your apartment and you give permission for the guest to go up.)
Anyways, about 45 minutes later the deliver guy calls and asks if I can meet him outside because he's circled the block 3 times and can't find parking. It's a white car on the corner, he says.
I go down expecting to find someone shifty in a moderately priced, if not junky, car. I discover instead, a charming young man in a BMW. I ask for a "quarter" and he realizes its my first time buying from them. They only sell in $50 and $100 and the buds come in little acrylic boxes. (I forget about how much the $100 one is in weight. My friend whom I got the weed delivery service number from told me but i forget.) I know it'd be way cheaper in another borough or if I picked it up but I don't care. It's great weed and I love the delivery service.
So there we are, right next to my doorman building with people passing by only feet away from us and he casually gives me my clear acrylic weed box. He looks up at my building and recognizes it. He informs me he's got a customer in apt 11J. Next time, he'll come up to show me the different varieties.
How cool is that? Being a Manhattan pot delivery must be really fun sometimes.
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