Messed Up Drug Stories

I don't use drugs. I never have, and I never will.I don't think I have the capability to smoke anything, I hate needles, I sneeze when I pluck a nose hair... it's just not possible. I don't want to be under the influence of any substance... well, alcohol is okay on occasion.. But it's my silly-fun juice.

I don't think I am capable of fully controlling my mind anyways. It can be an impulsive/reflexive organ, almost likened to a doctor tapping below the knee cap. I see, and I react. Drugs would just make it worse.


But, I LOVE hearing my brother tell stories about he and his friends getting high. Those days are long over for him. Well, the harder stuff is. Weed has creeped back in.

Last night, the subject was opened up while dad was sitting with us. I did not ever witness my dad as a drug user, he wasn't a junkie. He enjoyed the occasional beer and got drunk. But otherwise, no drugs.

It starts with my bro telling a story about how his grandma saw pretty flowers budding in some plants out back at her cabin, and decided top transplant them to the front. These plants had gotten VERY tall, and his uncle saw them and asked "What the hell are you growing, ma?"

Being the innocent one, I asked "Well, the bud is the part you smoke, right? not the leaf?"

and he went into how the leaf is used to make edible brownies and stuff. You actually get more THC when it's ingested than if it's smoked.

Then dad chimes in on the subject "You can just put it into a blender and the oiliness of the plant can allow it to be substituted for butter in recipes."

I was amazed by the fact, and that dad knew that. He's nearing 54, it shouldn't be surprising he has lived a full life in his youth.