Old people gettin’ high, playing video games… guard your Funions, yo.
It has been
a passing whim since I first started watching Showtime’s Weeds my lifelong dream to open a high-end pot bakery (pun intended). There’s a very serious void in the market, a whole consumer group of glaucoma patients who would also enjoy a delicious baked good. I think it’s a valuable service I could offer to the world, potentially sparking an economic recovery in the process. My mother, on the other hand, is a little less convinced of this stimulus package. This week she sent me an article about a group of senior citizens who were hospitalized for going a little to crazy with some pot brownies. Where did these gentle geriatrics get this special stash? A funeral.
Listen, getting old sucks. Dying sucks even more. Who can blame these old guys for wanting to get a little stoned? By the time I’m that age, I hope they will have legalized recreational valium, because it really sucks to have to get on a plane just so I can spark my anxiety attacks and subsequent need for those miraculous little happy-pills. If I’m that old, incontinent, and bogged down with erectile dysfunction, I should at least be allowed to get my kicks where I can get them. So, I salute these seniors for having the chutzpah to let it all loose. What I find more amusing is that the pot brownies were actually being served at this funeral like refreshments:
“The victims, who are all in their 70s and 80s, were attending a funeral in Huntington Beach, Calif. During the service, they each tried the pot brownies, which were passed around on a tray according to KTLA.com.
Soon after, the trio were admitted to a local hospital after complaining of “nausea, dizziness, and inability to stand unassisted.”
A police investigation revealed that the tray of ganja goodies had been brought as a tribute to the deceased who, according to the investigators, had used medical marijuana.”
-via Huffington Post
How hysterical is that? You should know better than to eat a brownie at any type of party hosted by a medical marijuana user, let alone at the man’s funeral. If this guy was anything like me, you all can plan on all the drinks at my funeral being spiked. It’s going to be one rager of a party. There will also be house/dance music blasting from the loud-speaker, and even all the people who grew to find me obnoxious while I was alive will want to come. They can dance on my casket or something, it’s OK. The jokes on them. I’m going to haunt them from beyond the grave. It wont be scary, but they definitely wont be able to sleep at night; they thought they hated me while I was alive, but when I keep them up all night by nagging them in an old Brooklyn/Jewish accent, they’ll understand how eternally stupid I can be. Deal with that, accent-non-enthusiasts.