My notes for this week’s Chronic Therapy strain have one really odd entry in them. Would you like to know what it is? Sure you would. I’m going to play hard to get for a minute though and make you wait.
OK, you win. The odd entry states the following: “The dog sounds like wobbly foil.” THE DOG SOUNDS LIKE WOBBLY FOIL. I have no idea what the hell I was talking about, yet there it is. Foil and my dog.
While I can almost certainly assure you that my dog, which is a huge ass great dane-boxer mix, did not sound like crackling foil, Purple Fire live resin made me think he did. And that’s pretty much the theme for that stuff: a brain full of nonsense.
Not that that’s a bad thing, mind you. I like to check out some days and have a brain full of silly nonsense, so I didn’t mind. I’m just lucky, though, that I threw a few amber grains of this resin into the pen on a weekend evening and not a weeknight when I had to write. I have a feeling I would have been pretty frigging useless, although my article would have been interesting.
I can’t say definitively but I vaguely remember going from sober to stoned out of my gourd that first hit. I only took a few hits, but I choked on every. single. one. and my lungs felt like they were on fire.
Despite that choking, though, the resin actually had a really nice taste to it. Every once in a while a concentrate will have that weird plastic and wax flavor to it (could certainly be user error, so grain of salt) but this one didn’t.
I don’t remember very much of my night after Purple Fire, but my notes allude to me being very amused, so deductions I will draw. They say things like: “My feet are so wiggly and I thought I was walking into a pole.” and “When is the last time I blinked?” Your guess is as good as mine.
I will also draw the deduction that this resin gave me hella cottonmouth, as one of my notes says, “Mouth is real dry after sucking down a whole Dr. Pepper.” My follow-up note is that I could feel every single tiny ice cube in my drink. I have no idea where I got this Dr. Pepper, cause I don’t keep them in the fridge, and my freezer contains giant ice cubes, but I guess I found not only a Dr. Pepper but also some sweet Sonic-sized ice. Magic!
But then again, all of Purple Fire was like magic. It made my memories disappear, made me think there were poles in my house, and made my dog sound like crinkling foil. Anything that makes me trip balls that hard has to be worth a trip to Cortez, right? Right.