One in which we inexplicably called our mom and made a dang fool of ourselves, so yeah. Good times.
Have you ever tried to hide the fact that you are super freaking stoned from a friend, or a coworker, or your parents or something? Don’t lie. We’ve all done it.
And we’ve all done it very, very badly. Get blazed enough and it’s literally written all over your face. Your eyes are red and dry, your mouth doesn’t contort the way it should, you have a dopey ass grin plastered on your face, and everything just screams, “Hey, yep. I’m stoned. Just over here living my best life.”
But yet, we try. We still freaking try.
And that’s exactly what I tried after smoking a bowl of Mandarin Space Cookies from Artsy, which is a newer line of strains on the shelves at the Green House Durango. I grabbed this little doozy from the dispensary and chose it based solely on the packaging of the weed, which features an astronaut doing, well, astronaut-y things. How that pertains to Mandarin Space Cookies is beyond me, but who am I to question it? I just work here. Sort of.
Anyway, like I said, I blind-purchased this based off of the packaging cause that’s how I roll. Let me live. I like throwing caution to the wind.
And, when I opened it, thereby destroying that beautiful packaging, what
I learned was that this strain isn’t just a fancy little badass on the exterior. What was in the package also counted.
And what that was was fat-as-hell nugs that stunk to high hell of weed. No mandarin oranges to be found in this container.
It was all good ol’ weed stench.
When I lit up a bowl, it was clear that I was duped. Oranges are MIA from this strain. BUT WAIT.
That’s OK with me!
Cause the strain’s effects were awesome. And very, very obvious.
All it took was a couple of bowls of this strain to get me so high that I couldn’t see straight. I promise you. I was that high.
But before I get to that part, I need to tell you what I looked like because it matters. My eyes, which felt like I had sand in them, were so red that I looked borderline comedic. Like a caricature of a stoner.
And, my mouth was parched, and I could not wait to pour myself a huge glass of Topo Chico. My mind could think of nothing else.
So, I did what I always do: I dragged myself inside and got some snacks.
Not just any snacks, mind you. ALL the snacks.
I dug out stuff from the recesses of the cabinet that I had no recollection of buying. Chips, cookies, gummy bears, some really ancient saltwater taffy. It was strewn around me like my treasures as I shoved my goodies in my mouth.
And then, in my stoney haze, I decided to FaceTime my mom.
I can’t remember what I thought I needed to tell her, but whatever it was, it was SUPER important at that moment. So I picked up the phone and proceeded to video call the poor woman, who answered the phone to an image of her child looking and sounding like a damn DARE commercial.
Luckily, my mom is pretty chill, so the moment she picked up, she laughed hysterically and asked me what exactly I’d gotten myself into this time.
And, stupid me? I tried to lie. I reverted to that high school kid who was busted for smoking a blunt in the backyard and said, “What? Nothing mom. I’m sober.”
This, in turn, elicited even more laughter as she called bullshit on my antics.
Between the snacks and the eyes, my mom knew. She clearly knew. WHY DID
Well, seeing my mom laugh like a donkey then set me off, my eyes the size of tiny slits and my mouth as large as an anime character in shock. I’m lucky I could barely see the screen. I would have been horrified at the image.
Anyway, this went on for entirely too long before I made up some excuse to hang up.
But I didn’t stop there. High and hazy, I lit up another bowl, elevating my stoney buzz to outer space status.
I guess that’s why they have the astronaut on the packaging?
I don’t know. But what I do know is that I have the perfect strain for anyone who’s looking to make a complete and total ass out of themselves by getting way too high and calling their mom. It’s called Mandarin Space Cookies, and it’s available at the Green House. You’ll know it by the packaging and the giant warning label that says: “MAY MAKE YOU A COMPLETE FOOL.”
In other words, it’s a great strain and I highly suggest you snag some before I buy it all. But before I do, I’ll be hiding my phone from my stoned self just in case. Ain’t nobody need a repeat of that experience.