I found a jar of old school Maui Blue Hawaiian weed that is beleve it or not, drum roll please…. is thirty-five years old.
It was inside something that you just throw into a box when you are moving, and since I am married to my perfect angel who NEVER THROWS ANYTHING AWAY, I dropped the box and now I am loading up the bowl, or trying to and typing with my index finger.
It still smells surprisingly fresh, but as you can imagine, it is pretty dried out.
Kinda like me.
Hold everything…
Maui Wowee!
When I first started dating Karen, aka the Domestic Despot, she had moved to Santa Barbara via Hawaii. When she denied my offer to give her some of my kick-ass homegrown, she declined. She said she always had pot. She said she had a friend in Hawaii who would send her weed every few months.
My interest increased.
Exponentially.
I feel like I should call some agency or organization with this discovery. Granted it does not approach Leakey’s discovery of Zinjanthropus Man in Africa, but I am getting more stoned as I type.
Creeper.
The GM said he was putting his calendar for February and he said he would call me.
I had to find out what that meant.
He’ll call me.
Right.
What a jealous dumbass I was. Karen’s “friend” in Hawaii was her ex-boyfriend and he was the one sending her the weed every so often. Evidently he didn’t smoke.
So what does Mr. Dumbass Macho Mexican Male do? I tell her to cut off her relations from Hawaii, and ending my stream of Maui Blue. I’ve had a hard time forgiving myself for that one.
Before I leave today I wanted to give a shout out for the passing of Magawa the hero rat who passed away at the grand old age of eight.
In his rat career, he sniffed out hundreds of mines, saving many lives in the process. If there is a Rat Heaven, he won’t be able to buy a drink for his time there.
Check out this jam (Maui-driven):
Stay well.
Mark's Playhouse 