"Gotta love California in this day and age."

I got pulled over just after I got off the 405 freeway onto Santa Monica Blvd this morning. 

I knew, instantly, it was because my registration sticker was for last year (ironically just a few weeks ago our building manager asked me to put my current registration on it, but I couldn't find my 2011 sticker, only my 2010, so that's the one I had on the car. Because I'm an idiot and figured being one year behind was better than two).

Now before I continue, you should know two things:

(1) My car smells like pot

(2) My strategy for dealing with police officers has always been to play dumb

We pull over to the side of Sepulveda and I roll down the window and it goes a little something like this:

Cop: "Did you know your registration is expired ma'am?"

Me: "Oh yeah, actually it's not I just don't have the sticker on it."

Cop: "Oh okay that's fine just let me see your license and registration then."

So I start to rifle around my glove compartment and I'm taking forever.

Cop: "Okay where's the marijuana."

Me: "Huh?"

Cop: "The marijuana. I'm going to need to see it."

Me: "Oh yeah sure. Oh I have a card."

Cop: "Okay I'm going to need the marijuana and the card."

So I hand those over - meanwhile I have taken out ALL the papers in my glove box and am going through them one by one to try to find my registration.

Cop: "Do you have your doctor's note?"

Me: "Huh?"

Cop: "Your doctor's note - the certificate. You need to carry that with you."

Me: "Oh really? Oh I didn't realize that I need both. Okay I keep that safe at my house."

Cop: "Well start carrying it with you from now on."

He hands me back the weed and the card. He then looks at my license. I'm still looking for my registration.

Cop: "How long have you lived in California?"

Me: "A little while now."

Cop: "Why don't you have a California license?"

Me: "Oh I spend a lot of my time in Maine for work. I still have a home there."

Cop: "Where do you spend most of your time?"

Me: "California."

Cop: "I'll be right back. You keep looking."

So he walks back to his car holding my license - and I throw my pot on the passenger seat while I'm still rifling through those papers. Finally I find it - sure enough I am registered for 2011 and have my sticker stapled to the form. I poke my head out the window and wave at him.

Me: "Heeeey! I found it!"

Cop: "Okay I'll be right there."

Me: "Can we put the sticker on it now?"

Cop: "What's that?"

Me: "Let's put the sticker on now!"

Cop: "Just a moment ma'am."

So after a few minutes he comes back to my window and grabs the registration and then he walks away again.

I send a few emails - first to my boss just to give him the heads up I got pulled over and am going to be late. I look in the mirror at one point and see that the cop is making his way back.

Cop: "I put your sticker on your car but this is a verbal warning that you need to keep your doctor's note on you for your marijuana at all times and you need to get a California license."

Me: "Okay do I just like call the DMV?"

Cop: "Yes you call them up and take a test?"

Me: "Is it hard?"

Cop: "It's just a standard written test ma'am."

Me: "Okay cool I'll do that."

Cop: "It's really important you do. The California laws are different from the Maine laws."

Me: "Okay I guess I can have two licenses?"

Cop: "Yes you can. But if you're in California you need to get that California license."

Me: "Okay well thank you."

Cop: "Do you need me to help get you back to the freeway?"

Me: "Oh ah, huh, no I'm going to work. I got it. Thanks man."

Cop: "You have a good day now."

And off he went and I drove away and started laughing like a crazy person. 

Because, well, REALLY? 

First of all the dude told me I could have two licenses - is that even real? I'm pretty sure it's not. Secondly, I am so thankful I have a marijuana card because it was truly an insane experience where this drug, that for so long has been associated as WRONG and BAD and ILLEGAL  that I had in my car was LEGAL and he couldn't do anything about that. Like this dude actually had to hand me back my little canister of medical-grade marijuana. That was surreal.

I also think it helped that I was playing dumb and that I was pretty calm about the whole thing - I mean of course I was calm, because I knew that outright, I had done nothing illegal (sure you could find some legal grey areas in there, but that worked out to my benefit I guess).  Don't get me wrong - I mean deep down I was freaking out that I was going to be fined a SHIT TON of money between the license, the registration and not having my doctor's certificate on me but I really did keep my shit together.

Speaking of keeping my shit together, I mean I wonder what was going through this cop's head when I rolled down my window and he sees this chick he has to deal with - like this dumbass girl who is driving a car that smells like weed - and like OF COURSE she has a registered car but with the wrong sticker on it and OF COURSE she thinks she needs to keep her doctor's note for her pot at home. Like what a dumb fucking white girl stoner. I mean I probably pose the least danger to society ever. But at the same time? That cop could have just FUCKED me over. Not only did he let me go with a verbal warning but he changed my registration sticker for me. I didn't have to lift a finger.

Moral of this story is if you live in a state where pot is legal/decriminalized and you think you're ever going to have it on you in a public place you ABSOLUTELY should do what you can to get a card.  I was so thankful that at that moment, everything I was doing was within the parameters of the law. (Ignoring the legal grey areas like - shouldn't the cop have known that you technically need a CA license to even get a pot card? I mean when I got my card I proved my residency by showing my lease, but he could have nailed me on that - whatever I am getting my CA license ASAP, that's for sure).  

The other thing I learned here, is that despite the generally bad rep, there actually appear to be cops in LA who recognize when someone's just a dumbass who can't get her shit together. I mean let's be honest, I spend most of my life at work. And when I am not at work I am trying to capitalize on that fact by either writing, or sleeping or working out or watching TV so you're probably not going to find me at the DMV taking care of shit.  Or maybe what they say is true and he let me off so easily because I'm a girl and I was calm and polite and kinda dumb. Who knows. I'm incredibly lucky, that's for sure. And incredibly stupid, if we're being honest about the whole thing (and clearly, we are).

When I told my boss the story this morning he was like, "trust me when I was your age and I had a story that included - 'and then the police officer could smell my weed' - it would have gone a very different way. Gotta love California in this day and age."

Happy 420, I guess?

Does anyone actually know the historical significance to 420 in stoner culture?

Or whatever. Watch this video:

Female Stoners in Pop Culture History

Flavorwire's got a piece up about female stoners in pop culture history - Jane from the movie Smiley Face makes the list, which reminds me that this might be my favorite movie to ever accurately capture the sensation of being high. Check out the preview below, and it's on instant Netflix so you should just go watch it. Even if you don't smoke pot, it's seriously hilarious.

STAMOS! (Imagine me shaking my fist at the skies whilst screaming that)

First of all, don't EVEN GET ME STARTED on these rumors that John Stamos might be replacing Charlie Sheen on Two and a Half Men. Because that would be NOT OKAY. With me. Although it would make for a pretty good Stamos vs. Stamos...

Secondly, I've got a new "Stamos on Stamos" over at Zap2it - so check that out here.

Thirdly, I totally suck at blogging these days. I am blaming it on the fact that I left my Adderall at home the past four days. That's right, it's not MY fault, it's the DRUGS.

That's all for now!

Oscars Schmoscars! This Charlie Sheen-Mel Gibson-Christian Bale Mega Rant is Better Than Anything Franco Was Smoking Last Night

Oscars Schmoscars. AMIRIGHT? I mean, Charlie Sheen is way more exciting to talk about this fine Monday morning. (Although, new to my bucket list, just after "smoke pot with Snoop Dogg" I have added "smoke pot with James Franco" - bro appeared to be high as a kite during the show. For that matter, it seemed like everyone was on drugs at the Academy Awards. As long as this doesn't escalate to a city full of Charlie Sheens, rock on Hollywood, rock on).


Christian Bale, who, to this day, I like to think of singing about Santa Fe with a kerchief round his neck in Newsies, won an Oscar last night. Immediately afterward everyone in my living room  started screaming "GOOD FOR YOUUUU." See? Twitter evidence:

tweet

But more exciting than my own self-congratulations at an easy joke would be this superb mega rant featuring the angry screams not only of Oscar winner Christian Bale, but of Oscar winner Mel Gibson, and HOPEFULLY NEVER AN OSCAR WINNER Charlie Sheen (very NSFW btw):

Thanks to the brilliant Editors/Clip-makers at FilmDrunk for this gem. The best part is definitely Christian Bale's crazy "La da da da da da" on repeat with the Nick Nolte (or is that Gary Busey? I honestly can't tell the two apart at this point) and Alec Baldwin soundbites.

If you could end up in an animated hallucination, what would it be?

I would very much like to have an animated hallucination in which I find myself absolutely dominating the casino level in Sonic 2.

I mean right? How SICK would that be?

Think about it: if your life was a stoner movie and you got to the part with the animated hallucination, and you could end up anywhere, where would it be? I think a video game from my childhood would be rad and I always loved the casino level on Sonic 2 because playing the slots was a damn good time. Although it's a toss-up between that and one of my favorite cartoons. Oh, like the friends portion of Garfield and Friends. I totally wanted to hang out on Orson's farm!

What about you?

Side note: Amir from MetroMix sent me this SICK video of a Sonic/Michael Jackson conspiracy theory. WATCH IT whilst you ponder what animated hallucination you'd like to end up in, then tell me your thoughts in the comments!

Arguably the Best Celebrity Interview EVER

Um. Did you catch Harrison Ford on Conan last night? No? Me neither. Thank God for the internet, because you can now experience the joy of this interview as many times as your heart desires. Which in my case is endless because Harrison Ford is high as shit. See for yourself:

Seriously, the dude is fucked out of his gourd! Looks to me like a weed/valium combo - I mean he's petting the sofa!  THIS IS EPIC!

In related news: if I ever do a whole lot of drugs with a celebrity, (which is obviously on my bucket list), I want that celebrity to be Harrison Ford. I feel as though this is somewhat in the realm of possibility, considering I know where the man gets his coffee.

Indy, my favorite pothead

Let's Talk About Prop 19

Do I smoke pot? Yes, yes I do. Is it legal? As of now - no. At the moment, marijuana is decriminalized on a state level, which is why I can go to my neighborhood dispensary and buy weed. But me and my pot-smoking is not why I want to talk about Prop 19. I want to talk about Prop 19 because I live in California and this state is totally in the shitter when it comes to money, and Prop 19 is a near-immediate solution to this massive problem.

I absentee-voted in Maine, so here's my plea for all you CA voters - Vote YES on Prop 19 not because I'm some crazy hippie pothead who lives in Venice (I actually live in Santa Monica), but because the state of California is totally in the can with a massive deficit. If marijuana is legalized it can be taxed, with an estimated $1.2 billion in revenue, not to mention creation of new jobs and a total economic impact of anywhere from 1 to 18 billion.  Voting YES is not part of the problem - it's the first important step in the solution.

And that's the last of my political ranting today. Carry on.

You know, for all those of you with opossums who need pedicures...

Seriously? There's a demographic for this?

Here's what troubles me: "a mistake people OFTEN make when giving a massage to an opossum is throwing off the energy."

(1) How many people are giving an opossum a massage at any given moment?

(2) How exactly do you throw off the energy of said opossum

(3) What kind of drugs is this lady on and where can I get some?

Thanks to DiTonto for bringing this gem into my life.  I am going to be haunted by nightmares of that lady waving bye to me for the next week.

SUPER EGO - a web series you need to watch

Check out this hilarious new web series on My Damn Channel, Super Ego. I've embedded the trailer below and I think you'll enjoy it. I mean, who doesn't love a self-absorbed method therapist?




"No it's cool. I have a prescription."

Well It's About Damn Time

Adderall Receives Honorary Degree From Harvard

Kitchen Stoners

I'm digging this NY Times piece about haute cuisine and marijuana culture. I've had the good fortune of eating at Animal a few times and it always strikes me as the kind of restaurant where people just got high and thought, "What would happen if we made a bacon chocolate bar?" And then they made it. And it was awesome. If pot-smoking chefs leads to more experimental food, then I'm all about it.

I'm pretty sure everyone has ADHD

The Wall Street Journal does some serious investigative journalism into adults with ADHD. By serious, I mean they offer a quiz so you can self-diagnose. Go forth, hyper people!

I'm sorry but in this day and age I think the Internet has just ruined everyone's attention span and we are a nation suffering from ADHD. At this point they should just put Adderall in our water supply (funny because that's also what my doctor said about Prozac not too long ago).

Man, I am dumb sometimes

So, I'm fighting off a cold, right? And in my attempt to go full court press on this sucker and not get really sick I may have been over doing it on the various medicines (homeopathic or otherwise). Correction, I definitely have been over doing it.

Last night in my drugged up state I thought it would be an excellent idea to purchase a pair of University of Michigan sweatpants. No, I did not go to the University of Michigan, however I am a big fan of Michigan football, and I guess I had a momentary longing for those college days where there was nothing better than a fresh pear of sweats. So I did some online shopping and after much debate between yellow and white, I went with these:



Now, that was my first mistake. White sweatpants. That was a TERRIBLE idea. I am one of the klutziest people I know, and have a tendency to spill on myself several times a day so why on Earth would WHITE sweatpants be a smart decision?

Secondly, I really flubbed up when placing the order. Instead of listing my shipping address as my California address and my billing address as my New York address, I did the reverse. Which means my dad is about to receive a pair of Michigan sweatpants, which he might end up keeping for himself. He's the one who actually went there.

Yes, I already tried to re-route the order but the dude at the Michigan store sort of just laughed at me and said he'd "see what he could do."

See kids, the lesson here is that you shouldn't go shopping when on drugs. That is all.

Introducing, for the first time ever, A REAL VACATION

Hello friends, loyal readers, family members, and whoever it is that searched "can I smoke a cigarette with my jaw wired shut" (no you cannot, and what are you doing smoking in the first place? It's so passé); I have an announcement:

I am going on vacation. Yes, a REAL vacation; I am not bringing my computer with me.

Please, pick up your suddenly dropped jaw up off the floor and pretend to not be so surprised! It is true--for the next 10 days I shall be computer free.*

What a momentous occasion this is! I am not only going to be computer free, but temporarily JOB FREE. (Is this what it was like during the Neolithic Age or something? Shall I become a hunter and gatherer? The nomadic life would suit me well, I think it would!). Yes, I am going to be completely unhinged, detached and enjoying every second of it. There will be dancing, and swimming, and sailing, and kayaking, and running, and tennis, and laughter OH THE LAUGHTER!

I anticipate that I will experience slight withdrawal, almost at once, however I will have a six hour plane ride to New York to prepare** and then I will be swept away from one activity to the next, from the city to Rye for a wedding, back to the city briefly and then off to Maine--the true one and only love of my life. Computer shumputer. I don't need that nonsense! I'm bringing four books! And a journal! I am going to love it!***

*I will have my iPhone as well as access to my dad's laptop and probably my step-mom's too. So maybe I am exaggerating. So maybe I am not completely without computer access. But this is HUGE for me, am I right or am I right?
**By prepare, I mean take a Xanax and pass out.
***Within three hours I will be freaking out and will take more Xanax.

Exciting News! (for me, anyway)

So I got a new job. Yep. I did. And you know what? It's fucking fantastic... as usual, I am not going to go into details of said position here (I guess I've never fully divulged what I actually do at these mysterious Hollywood assistant jobs, huh?) but let's just say I am finally in the world of my biggest entertainment-related love: television.

More importantly, I have less than two weeks remaining at the current job. You know what this means? It means I have less than two weeks to go all out in the wardrobe department, wearing as many bright colors and odd combinations I can possibly pull together. And I am definitely going to throw in a Lilly Pullitzer dress or two. It's about time. To kick things off, today I am wearing a lime green shirt and hot pink pants... a sort of neon prep look. Unfortunately I am STILL on the mend with the illness and might have to use up my last sick day tomorrow, but I am going to play that one by ear...

Anyway, things are looking UP! And it's not just the painkillers talking. (Did I mention that? That they prescribe vicodin for the flu now... who knew!)

Still trying to figure out that whole geek humor thing...

April Fools is a big day for geeks. It’s when geeks can play really nerdy jokes on each other/the internet. I attempted to get in on the fun but realized I’ve got a ways to go before I really nail the geek humor.

My plan was to change my whole Twitter account for the day, as though some bizarre hallucinating high schooler was tweeting about unicorns and fairies and other nonsense. Apparently a handful of friends actually thought it was hysterical and a pretty great April Fools joke someone played on ME. Then when I revealed it was me, attempting a lame-ass joke on OTHERS, well... joke fell flat. So that’s awkward. Joke's on me? Yes, turns out I was really just playing a joke on myself... although apparently a few people were mildly entertained (if not concerned that I was the one hallucinating).

So what have I learned from all this? I might be kind of loser. And I need to better iron out the details of touching on nerd-tech humor. It was an interesting experiment I guess?

Anyway, for those who weren’t following, or who are interested in what the hell I am talking about, here are all of yesterday’s tweets:

OMG I JUST SAW A CHERUB (one of those winged baby angels) RIDING A FUCKING UNICORN! SOMEONE CALL LISA FRANK! IS THAT A POT OF GOLD?

THAT LEPRECHAUN IS A CREEP. I'm going to pwn the shit out of him.

I have slain the leprechaun! w00t! I think that cherub just transformed into a My Little Pony. Smells like cupcakes.

IT WAS NEVER A CHERUB! IT WAS A WINGED UNICORN ALL ALONG! IT SMELLS LIKE MAGIC AND MERLIN'S BEARD IN HERE.

I've discovered the secret to ETERNAL LIFE! JUST BOTTLE UP THE TEARS OF A WINGED UNICORN AND MIX IT WITH THE BLOOD OF A LEPRECHAUN!

hmm. THAT ELIXIR WAS A BAD CHOICE. I THINK I'M GROWING A TAIL.

FUCK! Do tails grow out of your shoulder blades?

Shit. It's wings. I'M GROWING A PAIR OF WINGS.

Just looked in mirror. I seem to have morphed into a cherub myself. Off to find a unicorn to befriend. Then leprechaun hunting.

OH NO! A wizard cast a spell on me. I am now doomed to an eternity of chasing flying monkeys. MUST FIND A FAIRY TO COUNTERACT EVIL MAGIC.

UGH. Just when I found a woodland sprite one of those G-D flying monkeys scared it away. QUESTION: WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO CALL A MALE FAIRY?

Apparently FAIRY is gender neutral. http://tinyurl.com/cryewb THANK GOD BECAUSE I CAN'T TELL IF THAT ORANGE ONE THERE IS MALE OR FEMALE!

that fairy was one whiny bitch (turned out she was female). THANK GOD THE FLYING MONKEY ATE HER. ditching fairy-plan to find a shaman king.

Man that shaman was a douche. Thank God he showed me how to teleport. Now I'm chilling on a rainbow with my unicorn friends, free of evil.

Ugh. Spoke too soon. Mad sorcerer, 3 o'clock. Wish I had one of those flying monkey bastards. WAIT! I HAVE WINGS! I FORGOT!

If an April Fools joke falls down in the forest and no one's there to hear it, is it still funny? I am going to go with NO.

Some Wish a Genie Granted at a Phish Concert

The best part about SNL is weekend update. This, was amazing.

Hey Kids, Stay Off Drugs

Or maybe just don't visit the dentist anymore...

Of Dreaming & Flying & Lateness

I was having the most glorious dream this morning. I was at Disneyland, or a dream version of Disneyland (I’ve never been) which was a strange, hallucinogenic like setting of very large and impressive old timey rides on beautiful hillside, near a castle by the sea. (Disclaimer, no drugs were involved with the making of this post). I don’t remember being with any friends or acquaintances in my actual life, but I definitely was with other people—enjoying the rides... the magic of it all... I was on one ride in particular that was sort of a cross between a chairlift and some sort of log chute ride and remember that it shot me into the air and the next thing I knew I was flying and it was MARVELOUS. The colors! The sounds! The feeling of the cool breeze as I easily passed through the air... and then next up was another ride... it was roller skating for wheat field (again, no drugs involved) and next thing I knew I could push off from my roller skates and I was up, up, up, and AWAY! Flying above the field, soaring, dipping, waving to my friends who were below. It was the most exhilarating feeling, truly magical. I didn’t want it to end!

Apparently I REALLY didn’t want it to end, because at a certain point I definitely had a weird moment of my dream state meeting my conscious mind, and I was essentially telling myself: “Keep sleeping! This is AWESOME! Your alarm will wake you up!”

Well as my sleep self and awake self continued to have this inner dialogue, I began to rouse and figured, sure why not wake up before my 7 am alarm today anyway. I slowly opened my eyes, feeling truly fantastic and looked over to see how early it was (figuring that after waking up around 6 am every day I probably was so accustomed to that time it must have been around then) only to see the menacing red of my alarm clock’s numbers staring back at me:

9:22 am

SHITFUCKER! SHITTER! MONKEY! I exclaimed, and I catapulted myself from my bed to my computer and emailed my boss that I would be late. Fortunately, she replied almost instantly, joking that she was wondering if I was late because I was spending a lot of time planning my outfit (to make up for the hilarity of yesterday’s). In about 20 minutes I pulled myself together (with a great outift I might add), and I even got my crazy hair semi-tame—which let me tell you, is a REAL feat, because I wake up with a serious rat’s nest every morning. Sure I rolled into work a solid hour later that I am supposed to, but I was feeling great—very well-rested.

Oh yes, I forgot to mention that I went to bed at 10:30 pm last night... so I got roughly eleven hours of sleep. Yes, eleven.

Only downside to all of this is that I’ve felt off all day, like really all over the place and scatterbrained, as though I didn’t know which was up and which was down... similar to that incredible flying dream...