Christmas Brownies

Over the weekend, I went over to my beautiful friend H's house to hang out. We were blazing and drinking and it was all good times (except I got a little TOO intense and probably said shit I shouldn't have said, which ALWAYS happens with me).

Well, somewhere in the night, H decided to bake a batch of brownies. Being that I was already a little blazed by that point, I just figured she was making standard brownies. So when they came popping out of the oven and I'd had a couple more puffs of the pipe, I was ready to mack on them. She handed me a small piece and said "Now, these Christmas Brownies are LETHAL. Don't eat them when you're high!" Okay. What-the-fuck ever. Om nom nom nom.

As I was already high and a little buzzed from the free flowing wine (and compounding it was the fact that I was INSANELY tired and had taken my Lithium, which makes me hella tired), I didn't notice anything off about her Christmas Brownies. I got massively intense afterwards though, which I blamed on sleep deprivation and having smoked some ganja.

Not until the next day, that is.

H sent me home with a couple of brownies cut into large squares and I was all excited to have brownies.

Anyone who knows me knows that I am not a huge fan of baked goods. I despise cake, I don't like cookies (unless they're soft and chewy)... breads are okay and sometimes I can tolerate muffins. But by and large, I'm not really all about baked goods. Save brownies. I LOVE brownies. So the next day it's like 1pm in the afternoon and I'm bored. There was nothing new on my forums (that I am now suspended from) and nothing awesome on TV either. So in my boredom pace around the apartment, I catch the eye of these brownies. And you know what I did. Ate one. I just straight wolfed down this MASSIVE brownie. It tasted like burned oil. I was like, "Blech. Burned oil. Still... Brownie. Oh so good. Om nom nom."

About 30 minutes later, I'm like "WOW I'm hungry... what the fuck. Maybe I will have a brownie again... I do so love me some brownies..."

Yeah, you just sharply inhaled and you fucking know it! YOU know there's something wrong with these brownies and I'm not even THERE yet.

Now, did *I* know there was something fucked up with these brownies? No. You must pardon my lack of self-awareness at this point. I knew they TASTED weird. But it tasted like burned oil and I have been known to put burned oil in my baked goods so I was kind of like, "Ha. Amateur," when I tasted the burned oil.

To get back on point, instead of macking on ANOTHER brownie, I eat some left over stir fry or something equally lame because H was all "these are LETHAL" and though, at this point, I am not sure what THAT means, I just know it means not to eat too many of these. Maybe they're extra fatty or something... like with pure lard. All of a sudden I start noticing that I am twitchy. WHY THE FUCK AM I TWITCHY. So I blame this on Bipolar and stress and having smoked pot the day before.

For some weird reason, it occurs to me as a great idea to just lay down on the floor. So I do that. Isabelle comes over and cleans my whole face and I start having these wild epiphanies about her and whether or not she loves me. As she's grooming me, I start giggling like a goofball. That's when it hits me: THESE ARE POT BROWNIES. HOLY FUCK, I ATE A POT BROWNIE. I DON'T EVEN SMOKE POT ALL THAT MUCH AND I ATE A BIG ASS FUCKING POT BROWNIE!! WHAT THE FUCK!!

So I text H, "These are pot brownies." She responds, "Of course. I told you that. You watched me make them. :)"

She probably did. But I obviously did not hear her.

Fuck. Well it's too late to worry about it NOW. Let's just ride this wave out. I end up watching Dexter and I was tripping BALLS through the whole episode. You ever been so high that life makes sense to you on an alternate plane of reality? Yeah. Well that stoned. I had to re-watch it later to fully understand what the hell was going on. Then I fell asleep and slept for 8 hours.

This shit only happens to me.

The problem I have is that my VERY Mormon best friend is coming to visit and this is a woman who will inhale a brownie and look at you going, "What brownie?" I still have two of these lethal motherfuckers in my fridge (WHERE ELSE DO YOU KEEP POT BROWNIES!?). So she's going to come visit and inhale a pot brownie and then I'm the asshole because I didn't mark the bag clearly "POT BROWNIE". I'm half tempted to just eat the fucking brownies before she gets here so she can't be all "OHHHH BROWNIES" NOOO!!! DON'T EAT THOSE!!! But then if I eat them, *I* have to deal with being so stoned out of my skull that shit just gets WEIRD.

I also thought about being "DON'T EAT THAT. IT HAS ANIMAL PRODUCTS IN IT" (she's also vegan) but I know her and she'll be all, "FUCK. ANIMALS. BROWNIE. Om nom nom."

I told my therapist about my dilemma and she was all "Why not just throw out the brownie?" AND WASTE A PERFECTLY GOOD BROWNIE!? THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH IT. Other than it's like saturated in illegal narcotics. Well it's not illegal if I have a prescription. And I do not. SO THE POINT STANDS. Perfectly good brownie. Laced with pot. Mormon BFF who loves brownies.

Ohai Mormon BFF. I can haz pot brownies. You no eats. K?

Of course I have to admit to myself that my house is stocked with more liquor than I was able to drink at the PEAK of my alcoholism, thanks in large part to people who don't know what to bring a Kosher Jew for dinner so they just bring me alcohol. And I don't fucking drink. So chill it does. I mean, I suppose I never know when someone will come over and want a beer. And HEY! I have beer! But the addition of pot brownies to my repertoire of booze and prescription pills kind of makes me look like I'm rapidly falling right back down that rabbit hole of addiction.

I swear, hand to Gd, I have like ONE glass of wine per week, IF that. I don't drink hard alcohol. I don't even know where half of that liquor came from! I haven't been drunk in almost a YEAR now (not since last New Years). I smoke pot like once every 2 or 3 months and even then it's one or two hits before I put the pipe down and get in the game zone for a few hours. I'M A FEATHERWEIGHT! Now pills... I take pills. I only take pills prescribed to me but I do pop a lot of pills (Lithium, Xanax, Zyprexa, and Ambien). Never more than the therapeutic dose but I have to admit to popping pills.

Fuck.

(goes off to reluctantly eat a pot brownie and make the evidence disappear rather than be called an addict)

(with a Cap'n and Coke)

;)