Cheap Ounces

I'm not sure why people complain about drugs being so expensive. Of course, if you're inhaling yay, or pricking yourself with heroine, by all means feel free to complain. If you are not, however, then shut up. Weed is damn cheap, and so is just about everything else. If I can find a roll for $4 and an O for $160 then you need to stop whining. Unfortunately, this isn't the case everywhere, but if you're a good haggler then you shouldn't be paying a lot more for your 'good time'. 

Haggling is key, but don't be stingy. Chances are, the person you got it from got it at 50%, if not less, the price you're paying. So feel free to bring down the price, keeping in mind that they're still trying to make a profit out of you. If this doesn't keep you happy, then try growing your own! It's an expensive procedure if you really want to do it right, but it's worth it in the end. Also, if you end up growing the right amount, the right way you'll end up making a profit as well (only if you want to of course). 
 

Rich Weed

Hours of Entertainment:
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www.damnyouautocorrect.com

The dope thing about living in LA has got to be not only the places, and the tree, but the people too. 

One of my best friends is a Malibu kid, and when people say Malibu and Beverly Hills kids are rich.. They're not kidding. Just tonight I was kicking it with Pat Benetar's daughter, and the owner of True Religion's son. One thing is certain, rich people have a lot of weed, and they certainly aren't stingy. I'm not saying all Malibu kids are rich or stuck up, I'm just sort of generalizing a culture that I'm not part of.

They definitely aren't as big smokers as they do it in the south side. They like their drink more than their greens. Personally, I don't mind either and I must admit ever since I got back from London I'm a bit of an alcoholic, but there is no other intoxicating ordeal I love more than weed. 

Theoretically

My mama brought me up to ask questions. To be curious about life, death, anything that came to mind. She believes that if you're not determined to discover something, the answer will never really be important.

 I thoroughly enjoy the company of those that stay up all night contemplating irrelevant facts while passing round the blunt that seems to make you more intelligent. Yet I find most of my theories remain stranded on the island of brain cells inside my skull. It's true that the more weed you smoke, the smarter you feel. It isn't necessarily a good thing, but it is definitely instant entertainment. You get mind fucked after spending hours conversing about one particular idea that you know is absolutely unnecessary.


Personally, I think you have to have a few screws loose to go from inhaling the fumes of a plant to shooting heroine into your blood stream. I do believe it is a gateway drug, however, in the sense that it opens up your mind to the possibilities of life. I'm not talking about other drugs, I'm talking about all the questions weed makes you ask, all the ideas and stories you come up with, the burst of creativity you indulge in. These are the things missed. And of course you don't have to smoke to be curious, but it definitely doesn't hurt. Theories are just questions waiting to be answered.

<www.hightimes.com - Pix of the Crop 12.17.10>

Post Weekend Brain Cells

The weekend has this peculiar tendency to escape before I have the time to realize it. It leaves me hazy and my brain clouds over with blurry images of an estranged series of events; the familiar feeling of "fun" is all that remains. The mornings are always the worst, but perhaps they don't count as mornings when you're waking up half way through the next day. It seems strange that we so desperately live for the weekends, only to do what makes us forget them. It's a beautiful thing finding the right balance between work, play and weed. Most of us just want to be happy. We're all living in this vicious cycle, simply trained from birth to go accordingly along with the "plan" that was set up for us. Life's not as complicated as you think, in fact, it's already been set up for you.

All I can say for the weekend, however, is RIP Brain Cells.

Feed the cold, Starve the fever

Here I am, sitting on the couch with a concoction of spices and other unidentifiable ailments in a cup while my mother is bustling around the kitchen saying, "feed the cold, starve the fever!" in a repetitive, obsessive manner. Her Asian voodoo home remedies are no match for my chronic bronchitis. While I'm sitting here as the epitome of a Mucinex commercial I realized how much I hate the color green, which is unfortunate considering how much I love money and weed. 

My sickness sparked from my trip back to my old home in London, I mean literally sparked considering the typical English diet is alcohol and chain smoking. I'm glad to be back in Los Angeles though, not just because of the sun but because nothing beats Cali weed. I've had enough of that English shwag, but due to my upper respiratory condition carcinogens may not be my friend today. In the past, however, the magical, medicinal, sticky green plant has been the best healing remedy of all. So whatever the weather and whatever your health, it is entirely necessary to stay blunted.

http://hightimes.com/