Weed. You can smoke it, toke it, hide it in brownies, vape it, suck it, chew it … it’s quite versatile for a recreational and medicinal drug.
It’s legal in a handful of states, and it’s only time that it’ll be legal everywhere. After the government figures out how to tax the THC out of it, of course. Not that they’ll take the THC out … I was just trying to avoid saying “shit.”
Anyway, as I told you earlier, I spent a weekend in Colorado recently, a state where it is indeed legal to smoke up.
For the record, I believe marijuana should be legal everywhere. It helps with so many ailments, including anxiety, and is much better than relying on Xanax, Ben & Jerry’s, hookers — whatever it is you turn to to forget the day’s problems.
However, weed is no whiskey.
The alcohol industry is a tad bit worried that the waft of weed will push out the pull of Pappy (or Patron — I could have used that). And I’m here to tell you they don’t have anything to be worried about, because the buzzes are completely different and are both pertinent for different occasions.
An alcohol buzz is a social buzz. It makes you chatty, it makes you lively (until you’ve crossed that line) and it’s something you can control to some extent. If you do a shot of Fireball on an empty stomach, that numbing tingly feeling in your head can be fixed with a juicy burger or a glass of water.
Now if you do eight shots of Fireball, my point is out the window and you might as well go home and sleep on the bathroom floor.
A weed buzz, on the other hand, is singular, solo, serene. It’s not wise to gobble a gummy or take a toke and go out to a party or crowded bar. It’s mellow and introspective. A weed high is perfect for a Sunday afternoon on the couch, or a night after work where all you have to do is catch up on “Walking Dead.”
A weed buzz, especially if you consume an edible, will be with you all night long. You can’t control it once it’s swallowed or inhaled — it’ll run its course no matter what you eat or drink.
Also, I was quite perturbed when I had a good beer buzz going, and then took two puffs off a joint, and there went my carefree, bubbly tingles. Flattened by the need to stare at a wall and ponder if a Dorito is Italian or Mexican.
I’m a social person, so I’d rather be out and about with a few drinks in my system than a gummy bear that will waddle out of its cave and drag you into THC hibernation.
On the flip side, if I’ve had a bad day and/or have bad cramps and just want to crawl into bed and binge “Bar Rescue,” I would take myself one toke over the line — once it’s legal in Kentucky, of course.