Dear Dank Dairy…
“Today I smoked the craziest single hit weed I’ve ever had yet: Nuclear Facemelter OG. I think it used to be called Kitten Claw Kush, but that was way too tame a name for such a beast of a bud, so I’ve renamed it.
Prewarned this sticky icky might warp speed my sense of reality, I prepared my head and my home for what turned out to be a rollercoaster ride with all the safety controls turned off.
The fresh nug sticking to my finger was a strong indicator of the danger I was in for. One bong hit and a few hundred hard coughs later, I was seeing fur grow off my arms like I was some kinda pot powered werewolf whose canine affliction only came on with certain super strong strains.
Trying to catch my breath as my heart raced passed it, I stared at my bedroom wall and watched as all my acid trips came back for a friendly refresher course in waves. Flashing forward back, I came to know my inner most void and the calm panic that comes with the deepest of self-knowledge.
Needless to say, but I’ll say it any way, I was super blazed for the rest of the afternoon. One homemade quesadilla I don’t remember making, and an empty bag of soft baked sugar cookies later, and I started to feel my face again. (I’d sworn it had melted off in the nuclear bong blast I’d ignited at the start). And my weed werewolf (weedwolf?) state seemed to have subsided.
I’m a bit unsure when or if I’ll ever retry this most extreme of highs, but who knows… maybe some day I’ll get that itch to reignite my brain and blast it into the beautiful oblivion known only to mystics, shaman, and druids. And now one guy alone in his bedroom, with his best bong in one hand, and a cold quesadilla, trying to re-remember the infinite with the limits of his oh so finite mind, like a child lost at the beach trying to hold all of the world’s sand in his tiny little hands…”
–Entry from the writer’s Goldleaf Cannabis Taster’s journal.
