Vanessa Wolf channeled an imaginary burnout who lives in her head.
By Vanessa Wolf
First off, let me say I’m not just some jerk with a lot of opinions about whether or not marijuana should be legalized, or given away as a free gift when you open a bank account, or smoked in movie theaters, or put on the flag in the place of those little stars.
Well, I am saying that, but I also actually know what I’m talking about from first-hand experience.
I’ve smoked a lot of it.
Like so much that someone once commented that…wait. What was I talking about?
Hang on a second while I get my bong.
King Bong always helps me gather my thoughts and then sends them swirling into outer space like a literary kaleidoscope of words and ideas and wait. What was I talking about?
Sometimes I don’t have foggiest idea what words are even coming out of my mouth, and then I laugh and laugh and eat a box of Cap’n Crunch and some frozen peas and then go into a coma for 15 hours.
That Cap’n is so friendly-looking.
I wish I knew him better.
Do you think he’s a real Cap’n?
Wait. What are we talking about?
Did I ever tell you the story about the tattoo I almost got that one Halloween in Lahaina?
Man, it was bitchin’. It was going to be the wings of a pigeon across my back and the head of a mallard duck on my chest.
Why didn’t I ever do that, man?
Cause I spend all my money on pakalolo. And I fear pain.
That’s why marijuana should be legalized though, dude. I can’t even afford tattoos. And maybe then the money would go to The Man who’d maybe spend it on roads and schools instead of my dealer, Kaya, who I’m pretty sure just buys Bob Marley posters and Visine.
Do you remember that time we went to Peru?
That wasn’t you?
That’s OK. I don’t think I’ve ever been to Peru either.
Didn’t we go to Haiku once though?
I love how it’s always sunny and raining at the same time.
Rainbows, man. Rainbows.
Do you think rainbows have feelings?
What day is it?
And what was I saying?
Oh yeah. Thanks, man. You know, probably the worst outcome of all this herb is that you get lazy and fail to live up to any of your potential and move into your parent’s ohana and sit around until you’re pretty sure they wish you were never born and get really, really crazy good at Halo. True story.
Hey, man, wanna play Halo?
We should go on a trip. Let’s go to Amsterdam, man.
Amsterdam is my Mecca.
I’ll tell you this much, it doesn’t really matter either way if you legalize it or not, because I’m gonna do what I’m gonna do, and what I’m gonna do is smoke out.
Take a walk down South Kihei Road near any of the Kamaoles and at least three dudes will offer you ganja. Seriously, it’s easier to get than a light for your joint.
I tell you what, if it does become legal, I’d like to get in on that. I can see me now, running a badass coffee shop like in Amsterdam.
Have I mentioned Amsterdam is my Mecca, man? It is my dream to go there and get so high I don’t even remember I ever went. In fact, maybe that already happened? I’ll have to check my phone’s camera roll and suss that out.
Seriously though, if Maui becomes Amsterdam then I’d get to live in Mecca. Make the mountain come to Mohammad, yo.
Wait. What was I talking about?
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