Baking and Getting Baked in the City

My dinner plans last night fell through, and I somehow managed to make an entire meal of pot brownies (or le gateau de l'autre galaxie en francais. Literal translation = "cake from another galaxy" also known as "space cakes"). Yes, plural. I ate 5 of them, more than 12 hours ago. I still feel a little strange. The course of events:

My friends have a sweet apartment with a great patio. On this patio, we managed to ingest an entire tray of pot brownies (a couple remain, and their date of consumption is yet to be determined). They take a while to kick in, so while we waited, we smoked a joint and drank some beers. It was a gorgeous night and it was fabulous to look out at the skyline and just chat. Some of the things we discussed at length (that I of course recorded on my trusty notepad):

Weiner fart (I can't remember the context, but I do remember laughing a whole, whole lot about it)
Butt-Sweat guy - there is a guy from school whose ass sweats so much during the day that it actually soaks through his khakis. He, of course, sits in front of us and provides us with ample material to talk shit about. He has an attitude problem, so it's completely justified.
Laxative brownies - I told the story about when I was 14, my friend and I baked ex-lax chocolates into chocolate cupcakes and took them as a gift to our class. One guy ate 4 of them, and kept having to go to the bathroom during class. Every time he returned to the classroom, he would be panting or sweating profusely, as if he had been working very hard. I was a bad kid...

AND...
We were talking about expressions for big dicks in french and english. I explained the term coined by my best friend Minnie, "Parasitic Twin" (see previous blog entry concerning this term). I learned a good one in french, le bras d'enfant, which translates literally to "the arm of a child". I got a pretty good laugh out of that. (Note: similar reference in the 3rd Austin Powers movie can be found in the clip below, if you're interested in a wee laugh)


After giggling for a while, we began to notice some strange things. Laetitia contemplated the feasibility of flight. Clem would look up into the sky, thinking she saw airplanes that were not in fact there. She continued to see these airplanes when she went inside, in her bedroom. As for me, I felt stoned to the status quo - my usual giggly stoned...until I left their apartment. That is when shit just got totally too weird.

As if I'm not already out of my element in NYC, It's nearly 1 AM on a Sunday night in the lower east side of Manhattan. No one was out on the streets, and I couldn't even find a cab! It was desolate, except for a couple Chinese people creeping around in the city shadows, doing whatever Chinese people do after midnight. I really didn't want to take the subway home, but I saw no taxis and the station was right in front of me. Also right in front of me was a McDonald's, that looked delectable.

That's how I know I'm really super duper stoned. I will never deny loving food, but I also like to cook it, so I know exactly what's up. McDonald's is an atypical choice for me. Put it this way: I am an SLR McLaren, fueling with lean protein and fresh produce. McDonald's is low 87 octane shit food for Civics and Tercels. Not what I fuel this body with... But somehow, a cheeseburger just seemed so perfect! I grabbed one and head to the subway.

It was late, so the trains were pretty scarce. I sat down to eat my burger and wait. I soon realized that I was the only female in the station, and some pretty wicked paranoia set in. My inner monologue went like this:

These men are all around me, and I am the only female in the whole place. Is this guy next to me looking at me, thinking "she's got a vagina,"? What about the one over there pacing, talking to himself? Stop looking. Holy shit you will die if you don't stop looking at these fuckin' weirdos. I bet they all have knives. Grandad once demonstrated to me how to knife fight, so I could maybe hold my own, maybe. Or something. Oh shit, you're real fuckin high -how did this happen? You never wig out like this. Those fuckin' cakes....were delish. Time to think about this awesome sandwich and not about getting mugged and stabbed. In reality, these are probably nice, normal people. In fact, those guys look like boring-ass midwesterners. But what if they're really vampires? HOLY SHIT I'M TOTALLY FUCKED NOW.

At this point, I started taking quick shallow breaths and looking around, trying to figure out who was a vampire. I realized I was totally wiggin', and I comforted myself with this logic:

Vampires hate garlic. This glorious cheeseburger has tiny onion morsels stuck into the ketchup on the top of the bun. Onions are kind of like garlic, so maybe I can hold onto these and keep all the vampires away.

So, I pulled my cheeseburger apart and cupped each bun in my hands, onions up. This seemed to help me get a grip on the situation, but what really put me at ease was this thought:

I need to thank my lucky fuckin' stars that Blade lives in New York City. Seriously, if I get in a bad way tonight, Wesley fuckin' Snipes is going to come to this subway station and tear shit up. It will be so fuckin' sick... I truly have no worries.

So that really helped me calm down. Fucked up, huh? I ended up getting on the wrong train, having to switch and taking about two hours to get home. I had maintained my composure regarding the vamps, until RIGHT BEFORE my stop, when I hear some eurotrash sitting next to me with his ipod turned up super loud listening to this song:

Yup, the Crystal Method song from the beginning of the first Blade, at the vampire rave. WHAT ARE THE FUCKING ODDS THAT THIS WOULD HAPPEN? It scared the living shit out of me - i literally jumped off the train and practically ran up out of the station. I got my uneaten cheeseburger back out, onion side up, and walked home. I then stripped down and ate it in my cozy bed, half-naked sometime around 3 AM.

This morning I woke up high. This has never happened to me before. It's quite common for me to wake up and then get high, but never vice versa. That was pretty weird. I threw on clothes for class and actually showed up on time, only to discover that our class was being held at a different location than we had previously thought. So, the only people in this classroom were the girls who were eating pot the night before. Go figure! I'm going to try to make this afternoon gig - my art law class (that sucks horribly) so I'm out. More to come later on....