All told, I'm a goon and a fuck up who smokes too much weed.
Thank you Linh and all of the Postcards readers. I feel like I'm undeservedly among some of the most unique minds and personalities that one can encounter. Many of the comments here are downright profound and hilarious. It's always a joy to express a few thoughts from the haze and malaise. An honor as well.
"All told, I'm a goon and a fuck up who smokes too much weed". It's a big club, I am surrounded by it and may well belong. There is damn near a weed shop on every street in Wasilla, Ak. I can think of ten of them, and I have only been on about 5 to 10 of those streets. I just learned I had won 3 prerolls at my store. I said, "Do you mean joints?" They also don't use the word 'bong' anymore...Next time I am going to ask them if they had ever heard of Cheech & Chong.
I've been at it pretty consistently for the past three years. Compared to my drinking years, there's no comparison. If it's a crutch, it's a pretty gentle one.
Living a stones throw from Berrien County, MI; the dispensaries have popped up all along route 12. Yeah, I'm pretty basic with my smoking. Joints, a little glass piece which obviously gets broken and replaced now and then and a grinder that I use for the cheaper mid grade stuff. None of the high grade fancy stuff for me. Edibles are nice. It's wonderful in comparison to all of that brick weed we smoked for years and sweated going to jail over. It's a spacier existence and I have to compensate harder, but I've seen an overall improvement in my outlook and attitude.
There's this stuff, Rick Simpson Oil (RSO), that consists of concentrated cannabanoids. It's a wonderful anti inflammatory and mild pain killer. Very medicinal.
There is weed growing in green house built onto the roof of house that is right next to a fundamentalist church right when you enter Eagle Ak. Sometimes it's aglow with multicolored lights to improve its flowering. The first time they did it the church ratted on them. The Father found God and threw all his idols (art work) in the Yukon and the family broke up. Now that it is legal I think the ol' lady is saying something with her Christmas tree pot plants sitting up there like a lighthouse. I use the stuff as a sleeping pill after few or more than a few beers.
Noo. I've considered it, but I live a pretty hand to mouth existence. I'm simply trying to use the last of my education benefits to get through community college and a bachelor's degree. It's within reach.
I'm haywire and like to push my limits. I do seek some sort of creative outlet, be it putting my life back together with a little bit of thought. Linh's encouragement is a good motivator to simply try writing some ideas down. Thanks for asking Peggy.
So many times it's the eyes with you Linh, your knack for catching that fleeting moment when we can see the subject's thoughts...or imagine them anyway. Lovely work.
A few years back an Oakland working girl friend of mine, call her Marie, showed me on her phone the various sites and services on which she advertised. I said, "you must be doing great!"
"There's a lot of competition," she replied, staring into the middle-distance. "A lot of competition..."
I used to take Marie to museums and to watch art films at the Alamo Draft House. She didn't find much of interest in either. It made me think of that Dorothy Parker line, "you can lead a whore to culture but you can't make her think." When we got food she ate like a horse despite weighing perhaps 90 pounds. She was a kind person, while the women I dated who did appreciate museums, galleries, and art films, on the other hand, tended to be uniformly awful human beings.
Marie was from Hawaii, so was really only technically American. I had another friend who came back from a vacation there and told me, "it was crazy! Even the birds were mellow. They would just slowly waddle out of the way of our car." Finding a kind person in the United States is like finding a unicorn in a Wal-Mart parking lot.
No idea what became of kind Marie. I expect she's alright. My bitter old dad once told me, "women are good at one thing: surviving."
All told, I'm a goon and a fuck up who smokes too much weed.
Thank you Linh and all of the Postcards readers. I feel like I'm undeservedly among some of the most unique minds and personalities that one can encounter. Many of the comments here are downright profound and hilarious. It's always a joy to express a few thoughts from the haze and malaise. An honor as well.
You're an interesting guy w/ good commentary. Linh is right in encouraging you to write more.
"All told, I'm a goon and a fuck up who smokes too much weed". It's a big club, I am surrounded by it and may well belong. There is damn near a weed shop on every street in Wasilla, Ak. I can think of ten of them, and I have only been on about 5 to 10 of those streets. I just learned I had won 3 prerolls at my store. I said, "Do you mean joints?" They also don't use the word 'bong' anymore...Next time I am going to ask them if they had ever heard of Cheech & Chong.
Hi uddr,
I've been at it pretty consistently for the past three years. Compared to my drinking years, there's no comparison. If it's a crutch, it's a pretty gentle one.
Living a stones throw from Berrien County, MI; the dispensaries have popped up all along route 12. Yeah, I'm pretty basic with my smoking. Joints, a little glass piece which obviously gets broken and replaced now and then and a grinder that I use for the cheaper mid grade stuff. None of the high grade fancy stuff for me. Edibles are nice. It's wonderful in comparison to all of that brick weed we smoked for years and sweated going to jail over. It's a spacier existence and I have to compensate harder, but I've seen an overall improvement in my outlook and attitude.
There's this stuff, Rick Simpson Oil (RSO), that consists of concentrated cannabanoids. It's a wonderful anti inflammatory and mild pain killer. Very medicinal.
There is weed growing in green house built onto the roof of house that is right next to a fundamentalist church right when you enter Eagle Ak. Sometimes it's aglow with multicolored lights to improve its flowering. The first time they did it the church ratted on them. The Father found God and threw all his idols (art work) in the Yukon and the family broke up. Now that it is legal I think the ol' lady is saying something with her Christmas tree pot plants sitting up there like a lighthouse. I use the stuff as a sleeping pill after few or more than a few beers.
do you have a substack?
Hi Peggy,
Noo. I've considered it, but I live a pretty hand to mouth existence. I'm simply trying to use the last of my education benefits to get through community college and a bachelor's degree. It's within reach.
I'm haywire and like to push my limits. I do seek some sort of creative outlet, be it putting my life back together with a little bit of thought. Linh's encouragement is a good motivator to simply try writing some ideas down. Thanks for asking Peggy.
So many times it's the eyes with you Linh, your knack for catching that fleeting moment when we can see the subject's thoughts...or imagine them anyway. Lovely work.
A few years back an Oakland working girl friend of mine, call her Marie, showed me on her phone the various sites and services on which she advertised. I said, "you must be doing great!"
"There's a lot of competition," she replied, staring into the middle-distance. "A lot of competition..."
I used to take Marie to museums and to watch art films at the Alamo Draft House. She didn't find much of interest in either. It made me think of that Dorothy Parker line, "you can lead a whore to culture but you can't make her think." When we got food she ate like a horse despite weighing perhaps 90 pounds. She was a kind person, while the women I dated who did appreciate museums, galleries, and art films, on the other hand, tended to be uniformly awful human beings.
Marie was from Hawaii, so was really only technically American. I had another friend who came back from a vacation there and told me, "it was crazy! Even the birds were mellow. They would just slowly waddle out of the way of our car." Finding a kind person in the United States is like finding a unicorn in a Wal-Mart parking lot.
No idea what became of kind Marie. I expect she's alright. My bitter old dad once told me, "women are good at one thing: surviving."
Cool photo of the girl in the alley, the way her mask glows is a weird effect.
Always a pleasure, Linh. Lovely photos today.