In some places it’s legal. In other places it’s sort of legal.
It’s now legal in Canada.
You can smoke it, eat it, spray it on body parts or someone else’s body parts.
There’s a suppository.
You can get really ripped or simply become moderately pain-free. Or both.
If I listed all of marijuana’s claims – valid, maybe valid, yet-to-be-determined, complete poppycock – you’d go mad.
The reefer madness today is its marketing and advertising. What a mess.
I’m in a category: The Baby Boomers Who Smoked Lots Of Grass Way Back When, Stopped For The Most Part, Now Might Want to Get Back Into It Again For Medical Reasons And/Or Just For Fun.
But I have no idea where to start, what goes on in these places. I do know that I don’t want to walk into a cannabis shop like a hayseed right off the bus.
But I am a hayseed right off the bus. All I know I learned from watching one episode of a bad sitcom.
Leafly is fascinating, but I’m lost:
I just want a nickel bag. Although I know today it’ll cost me $50.00.
If there is some sort of National Marijuana Association and it wants to promote their products to the 50+ market, the best advertising would be simple, direct information. The less creative the better.
After I’m stoned you can get goofy, silly, and confusing. I won’t care.