DEAR ASK A DEADHEAD
"What do I do when I get too high?"
Dear Ask A Deadhead,
The other day I went into my local loco weed emporium here in Vail and the dude there sold me the most hyped hemp in history: Lhasa Apu. He started rambling a mile a minute about how he’d named it in honor of the Simpson’s Quickie Mart character who is, like a victim of some evil plot that was an off-shoot of the MeToo movement and some Indian trilogy movie that contains the secret to Indo-Pakistani relations. I didn’t really understand him, but I understood that this weed he was on was dynamite, because he could not shut up.
So I dropped two c-notes on a primo mega bud of Lhasa Apu and vaped all the way home. When I got home I was bugging. I looked up at the Rockies and they sang to me — I swear, man! It was a mashup of “Fire on the Mountain” and “The Hills Are Alive with the Sound of Music.”
At that point, I realize I was too high. So did what I normally do in this situation — go into my closet, get in the laundry bag, and pull the string tight over my head and breathe until it passes.
But I could still hear the Rockies singing to me in the distance, and I imagined them swaying, like an anthropomorphized barbershop quartet. And that really freaked me out. So got out of the closet and ran to my computer and put on the headphones to stop the creepy singing and I Googled what to do when you are too high?
So I clicked on this link, What to Do If Your High On Weed, and all the sudden this woman came on and she was like in Teletubbyland. I was totally freaked. I needed to be, like, singing Kumbayah in a circle of Tribe-ites. But instead, this super smiley woman is grinning and telling that I may feel like I’m dead, but that everything is going to be OK. Easy for her to say, she’s in Teletubbyland, plus, it’s a total lie, right? Everything is not going to be OK, right? I mean, Trump, global warming, The One has left the building, and I didn’t sign up for Obama care.
So now I’m waaaay too high, and I’m upset and my heart feels like it’s hooked up to a strobe. And the woman in the video- — is she smiling with me or laughing at me? — sends me into a full-blown panic attack. Now I am actually thinking I’m going to die, and my roommate shows up, sees me in a fetal position under the kitchen table and she calls 911. I get trucked to the hospital and I have to stay there for six hours under observation. Now I have a $600 EMT bill and $1200 hospital bill, and this image in my head of that freakazoid suburban mom in Teletubbyland. I’m sorry. I forgot my question.
The Dude, Colorado
Dear The Dude,
Sharing is caring. That is a creepy video. It’s like, sort of earnest. But that quality makes it seems like a parody of a satire of a sendup. In other words, it’s just all wrong. I’m posting your non-question so when Tribe members get unhighly too high, they know not to watch that video.
Now, what should the wasted do? Don’t go on the internet, man. That is just an unguided tour of all the world’s insanity. Better to kick it old school with either of these two methods. Listen to American Beauty, the Dead’s masterstroke. It is totally user-friendly for any state of mind. (People, please do not email me about Anthem or any other album being superior. I’m solid on this pick for this situation.) If there is nobody else around, this album is like a best friend — totally reliable, always there, and never lets you down. If you need further support, watch TV and drink water. Then drink more water and watch more TV. It doesn’t matter what you watch and continuous flipping is good. Eventually, your equilibrium will return. This method is used by millions of too high Americans on a weekly basis.
Meanwhile, people, be wise with your weed. Everything in moderation. Except for the One!
Althea's Stormy Lawyer Crush Bums Beau Out
Dear Ask a Deadhead,
Things in the bedroom had really cooled off with my gal — I’ll call her Althea — until a few weeks ago. Now it’s like she' s constantly in the mood. I was pretty psyched, but then I noticed, there’s a direct correlation between her sudden desire and the TV appearances of Stormy Daniel’s lawyer, Michael Avenatti. I mean, she’s been watching Anderson Cooper and Rachel Maddow for years with no libidinous aftershocks. But as soon as Stormy’s lawyer leaves the screen she’s all over me like a bad suit. Sometimes when we’re doing the horizontal mambo, I wanna feel connected, but there’s like the aura of this bald-lawyer hanging over the bed. It’s a real downer. Can I tell Althea her crush is bumming me out?
You Can Call Me Al,
Sunnyside, Queens, NY
Dear You Can Call Me Al,
Sure you "can" tell Althea her crush is bumming you out. But, seriously, dude, you shouldn't do that, no matter how much that hard-charging, chrome-domed counselor annoys you. And anyway, imagine how much he is bumming out Trump and Trump lawyer Michael Cohen! Damn, no wonder Althea is hot for him! Who isn't?
Of course, all those points probably aren't helping you. I'm going to explain why you should just let Althea get her ya-ya's out any way she wants. But before I do that, I want to take a brief detour for all the readers out there who are in the Tribe.
In my role as an advice columnist, I try super mega hard to give the highest, most helpful counsel I can. But, sometimes — and I know this a shock because, like, I’m so well-adjusted — I have my own problems. Who can an advice columnist turn to? Like, there’s no advice column for advice columnists. You feel me?
Fortunately, there is a place to turn — the rainbow colored bracelet on my wrist with the initials WWJD, which of course stands for “What Would Jerry Do?” I want to encourage you to ask yourself the very same question when I’m not around. In your case, You Can Call Me Al, I think the answer is pretty obvious. The One was always into people doing their own things as long is it didn’t hurt anybody. And what’s going on in the bedroom shouldn’t really hurt you, since Althea is making whoopee with you, not the dude on TV. Plus, you are giving someone you love pleasure. And that should be its own reward. So check your ego at the bedroom door. if your girlfriend wants to share her lawyer-love fantasy cool. If she doesn’t, that’s cool too. It’s not like you are out in the cold rain and snow, dude. You’re getting good lovin’, man, which is all you really need.
Peace to all!
"Metaphysical Graffiti will make you think twice (and laugh thrice).” —Will Hermes, author, Love Goes to Buildings on Fire