I got high on my birthday and blogged about it.
I started this blog a thousand years ago. And due to things beyond my control, like procrastination and distractions of the tequila-fashion, I haven’t posted here in quite some time. But that’s all about to change because it’s my FXCKING birthday and I decided to get high and blog about it. The alternative was to sit here and stare at this screen and wait for inspiration to strike. But as all amazing artists such as myself know, inspiration comes from external stimuli. Sometimes found in the form of a muse, a song, or a big, FAT, joint!
Lately, I’ve been that asshole, vaping all up in your personal space. I vape E-V-E-R-Y-W-H-E-R-E! Airports, Target bathrooms, (that %5 discount seems so much sweeter when I’m puffin’ the reefer!), your baby shower, funerals, you name it. I’ve left a puff of wizard cloud in most places I venture to. But for this special occasion, I decided to use my new paper roller to roll myself a proper “fatty”. I couldn’t figure out how to use the FXCKING thing, which I’m sure, my 6 year old nephew could figure out right away. (I’ll have to remember that for next time!) I scoped out a few paper rolling instructions videos on YouTube and realized there are A LOT of stoners out there! LOL!
Hey fam! I’m right here! I should mention, I did smoke prior to using my paper roller. I mean, come on!? Am I expected to roll a J without smoking one first? I’m a fxckin’ professional. And my Honey Bear Farms ORGANIC weed never does me wrong!
After about 437 attempts, I achieved success and rolled a delicate wizard-wand fit for this delicate birthday princess’s fingers! Then I rolled another one, and another one. Then, I thought, YO! I should smoke as many J’s as years I’ve accumulated in life. Then I realized 34 joints would be a bit excessive, so I resorted to only making 5. Which coincidentally, is the same number I smoked. (I shared one with my good friend, Justin Martindale who got as high as I am right now and did Delilah impressions.) I think that was a safe compromise with myself.
Ok, here’s a photo of my wizard-wand:
Birthdays are overrated anyways. I sound like a such a cunt but they are. What am I gonna do? Put on 67 lbs of chemically processed makeup and go pay an exorbitant amount of money for watered down blue drink at the latest “hot spot” full of dumb twats just looking for the right dumb cock to leach onto so they have to exert the least amount of energy possible to survive in this world as apposed to actually doing something with their lives to become an intrinsic part of society? Nah. I’m good. I’d rather sit at home,unshaven, with a bottle of wine and a jar of weed with my 3 rescue dogs who never judge me for being bra-less and dusty for the 4th day in a row. That’s my true nirvana.
I’m not an angry person, I just don’t give a fuck about the social constructs of how I’m supposed to celebrate the day I was born. It’s not like I did anything special, in fact, I put my mother thru an enormous amount of pain just so I could make her change my diapers for 16 years. My math may be a bit off there, but you get the point. Birthdays should be fun and spent with friends. If that’s what you need. For me and my over analytical brain, birthdays are a mere reminder that I am one breath closer to my last. LOL! I bet you didn’t see that macabre turn, did ya? Yea, DEATH!
Now there’s something to celebrate! How DOPE would it be if you could know when you’re going to die so you could throw a REAL “going away” party! Especially if you’re already an adult?! You could plan THE BEST Dearly-I’m-Almost-Departed Party EVER! I’d finally tell that one friend that no one give a FXCK that her 2 year old knows Spanish! DUH! The nanny is raising Triston! I would shit on my mom’s neighbor’s lawn for being such a twat to her all these years! I mean this woman tried to sue my mom for squirrel damage. SQUIRREL DAMAGE! I’d lit a bag of my own shit on fire and chuck it at her stupid face. I would also do nice things like tell my parents how amazing they are and that my sister is the reason I found comedy. But I’d also invite my cousin “Diamond David” just to let him know I have always thought he was a thieving cunt and he smelled like every guy ever convicted of child molestation.
PHEW. Hold on. I need to take a puff…
I dye grass,
As I was saying..
I think as an adult, birthdays have taken on a different importance for me. With each impending birthday I experience more anxiety about getting older and my gorgeous boobs starting to sag. But I also think birthdays suck when you’re a kid. You can’t drink booze, you can barely handle solids, and you’re DEFINITELY going to shit your pants! Well, I have shit my pant a-time-or-two during the more recent birthdays but none the less, it’s MUCH more socially acceptable to shit your pants at your birthday party if you’re within the ages of 0-12.
I FXCKIN’ LOVE THIS VIDEO:
I’m not planning on dying soon, but I just think it’s strange that as I’m becoming more mature, the less important certain things become. It’s also strange that weed has become more influential in my life ever since I moved to Los Angeles in 2014. I’ve smoked weed for years but that sticky icky became more of a character in my life as of late. When I lived in NYC, it was all about drinking your crotch off until 4 am and hopping your sloppy pirate-drunk twat into a cab, vomitting out of the car window on the way home not before threatening to turn the cabbie into immigration if he didn’t take you to a McDonald’s drive thru so you good get a ‘CHEZBURGR CUZ YOU DEZERV IT!’
I always treated them to a small fry for the troubles.
LA’s vices tend to center around cannabis, so instead of a baking a birthday cake, I got baked. I realized that a joint is very similar to a birthday cake. It has to be set ablaze. Everyone gathers around it, sings songs and laughs. You pass some around to share with your friends and family. You celebrate the moment, and wishing for ones not yet celebrated. And for a split second you can stop time and enjoy being present. Either that’s really poignant or I’m THAT MUTHA FXCKIN’ HIGH! I guess I realized I’d rather be present that get a present.
That being said, all birthday gifts can be sent to:
c/o Justin Edbrooke/Jessimae Peluso
2000 Avenue of the Stars
Los Angeles, C.A. 90067
It’s good to be back, and I love you all!