I never want to be stoned again.
OK ... that’s not true ... but I might need a solid break because over the weekend I ingested some Caregivers For Life Artisan Cake Balls and I think I may have died, experienced the afterlife, and then came back. That’s the only theory that makes sense ... at the moment, anyway.
Basically, how this disaster came to be was some friends and I decided that, despite the fact that only one of us likes edibles, to try some of these cake balls at Prohibition Herb. These edibles from Denver-based Caregivers For Life are new to the dispensary and we figured, “What the hell. We all like dessert.”
We went for the cookies and cream flavor cuz, duh, it’s the best one. Each of these innocent-looking cake balls contains 10 milligrams of THC. Best of all, they taste like grandma’s cake balls. No weedy aftertaste. Just good ol’ delicious, delicious chocolate.
It didn’t take long for us to start feeling the effects – maybe only about 20 minutes or so. The loopiness set in slowly and we kept glancing at one another to see where we were at mentally. It devolved from there.
All of a sudden, we were gone. That was that, cruel world. We were on another planet entirely.
I only remember bits and pieces of the experience but I do distinctly remember explaining to everyone that we were actually video game characters being played by people from the future. I don’t remember how well that went over but I’m sure I gave everyone something to think about. Another time I was convinced that someone next to us was whistling, and it turns that no one else could hear the most definitely very real whistling that I SWEAR was happening. I felt like I was in an episode of “That ’70s Show,” just sitting around with Eric, Fez, Hyde, and Kelso smoking doobies and having conversations in our heads.
To be honest (and unsurprisingly), I wasn’t able to follow much that was going on. I remember several people attempting to have a conversation with me and me laughing in their faces very rudely because I had no idea what they were talking about AND I had the worst case of cottonmouth that kept me from speaking clearly. Eventually, people gave up. Again, not surprisingly.
It should also be noted that it is impossible to move when you’re on this shit. It feels like you’re in one of those rotating tunnels in a fun house you no longer want to be in and you’re praying that this stupid walkway is leading toward an exit.
Alas, it was about five hours (which felt like 939,485,398,740 hours) until that tunnel ended and I felt semi-normal again.
In the end, I ended up force-donating the rest of the cake balls to a friend who does actually enjoy edibles because, while it was fun for the first hour, the next million hours felt like we’d all been sentenced to a really confusing purgatory (another working theory we discussed).
Sir Blaze Ridcully