On Mariganjabis.
Why THC is the most deplorable chemical for the human body

TetraHydroCannabinol (THC) is typically extracted from the Marijuana plant, (More than you could ever want to know about the plant and the substance contained within it can be found here.) The chemical iteself is not water soluble, meaning it is difficult to synthesize from the plant, at least, if you're high when you try. The most symple form of synthesis and ingestion is by burning the leaves of the marjiuana plant, which releases THC along with smoke from said leaves. Some Marijuana plants are genetically engineered beyond repair, and as such, you don't end up burning leaves, but 'nuggets' of plant matter literally oozing THC, but we'll get to that later. Glass pipes, rolling papers, water pipes, nefarious contraptions with more hoses than a lyposuction clinic, and metal or wood pipes are typically used to hold the plant in place while it is torched.

Other methods of THC extraction include: Dissolving the chemical in a fatty substance (such as butter) and then ingesting the butter (this ingestion can be accomplished in a variety of ways, but brownies and crackers are popular delivery methods), vaporizing THC from the plant (pass superheated air over it, and only the THC will reach it's boiling point, you get a 'cleaner' 'hit'), and dissolving the chemical in an alcohol (Recipies for THC/Ethanol drinks can be found, if one were inclined) are the most populare methods. Chemically, I am absolutely positive that it is possible to make THC pills, or some form of liquified THC that's relatively pure. This is all conjecture however, because it would be a pain in the ass to actually do, and it's much too much work when smoking the shit makes the 5 hours of paid programming from 1:30 to 6:30 AM seem like a reasonable time investment.

Now, a little recap on our methods, and some warnings for each of them. Smoking is pretty self explanitory: Set it on fire and inhale the smoke until either your lungs stop inhaling or it won't burn anymore. Right, we've all got that. On to cooking. Cooking with Marijuana is relatively tricky, if you're an absolute moron. I mean, if the sperm from your dad had a few extra chromosomes, maybe half of you just swam too well for your own fucking good. Seriously, you people need to not fuck this up. Keeping two things in mind will make sure that it never happens again. First, Cannabinol is fat soluble. This means, that you can't just put it in the brownies and expect to get high. The acids in your stomach will absorb a small amount of THC from the plant matter itself, but most of it will be lost completely somewhere between the oven and the sewer. You need to cook the marijuana in the butter you plan to use in... whatever. Be it brownies, or just butter for toast, it doesn't matter. Get a pan, the amount of butter and amount of pot, heat the butter, then add your marijuana. This brings us to step two: Don't burn the shit. The butter doesn't need to be flying all over the fuck place to absorb tasty little THC molecules. Just get a healthy simmer, and do it for a while. I'm talking medium to medium low here. It's much better, both chemically and aesthetically if you heat it longer at a lower heat than burn the fuck out of it in 15 minutes. Also, it goes to say that your apartment will smell like Marijuana. It's not quite as pervasive as the smoke itself, but it's definately noticeable. Cook something afterwards if you have parents that don't understand they've been innoculated to subscribe to the dominant belief in a culture that doesn't give a fuck about them. Whew, I think I'm ranting. Back to our favorite plant.

Vaporize it! Vaporizers are typically bought online, though I forget the legitimate use they have. I've heard that Home Depot (Want to hear something funny about Home Depot? There's a funny bit on Home Depot on Matt Fugate's website. Click the Wallpaper Now! link) sells vaporizers on their website. A vaporizer looks like a drill and sounds like a drill, but all it contains is a heater and a fan. You plug it in and wait about 15 minutes for it to heat up. Think blowdryer. It's the same principle, just expanded by a few factors of 10. Don't use it on your hair, dumbass. Basically, this is the same as smoking the pot, but you pass heated air over the ganja (pack very small bowls, and try to make sure that the heat will hit every angle of the marijuana, you will only get one hit per bowl and if the heat doesn't reach a portion of the weed, it won't vaporize the THC) and then inhale colorless, odorless vapor. I dislike this method for a number of reasons: It's not as social. It strikes me as an industrial, professional method of imbibing THC, and that's not something I've ever liked. It's loud. You get no smoke, so it feels less satisfying (think patch opposed to cigarettes). And it's impossible to tell if you've cashed the bowl or not. I've heard that the weed looks a little browner afterwards, but the guys that told me this were high, so take it with a grain of NaCl. I think that's the right chemical. Anyway. Moving right along.

Now, since my title denotes THC as being the most destructive humor when interacting with the human form, it may seem counter-intuitive for me to begin with ingestion. I really can't explain the choice here, except to say that I wanted to start from the beginning, and this was as far back as I was willing to go. I'm not going to touch on traditional or ancient methods of partaking in the THC, because these ritualistic anecdotes have no place in explaining marijuana in our culture, and there is aboslutely no relevance between ancient uses and the way marijuana is used today. The other reason I started with consumption of THC is because my website logs posts in a reverse chronological manner, so it will actually be the last once all is typed and done. Actually, I suppose these next few sentences will be the last read.

Stay tuned tomorrow for the experience, or the 'high.'

Stay tuned, like this is analog in any way at all. I guess it also implies that anyone but me reads this, which is just as untrue. C'mon, tag the tagboard, you apathetic fucks.

It was all I could do to not talk about a girl in this post. That's probably my final thought.

A Scooby Snack?

Indeed.

So, I should post, mostly because I've already worn out my welcome with the satellite my father owns. I try to sit with him and pass the time, but... I dunno, it's just not something that comes easily to me. Sitting and watching movies. Keep in mind that I don't smoke ganjauanabis anymore. I think that's the official spelling.

This is going to turn into a rationalization post, feel free to stop reading now. In fact, I'm going to make this a separate post to make it easier on the eyes. So stay tuned for an offical "Why I don't partake of the herbal goodness anymore," post.

Correction to the previous post: There are 4 audio samples on Matt Fugate's website. I fucked it up, and I'm sorry. Just please, don't hit me again.

New link today. Check out Matt Fugate's website. If you cruise around it long enough, you'll find a free download section with three handy little links. It's funny, I promise. Would I lie? Yes, you have a point. Actually I just put the link up because I posted on his message board. So, if he happens to visit my shanty nesting site, he'll feel welcome. I just typed out my true intentions, so the whole thing is going to be completely ineffective. I wish I didn't suck so much at life.

So I'm in Louisiana right now, visiting family. I haven't seen any of the horrendously disfunctional ones yet. How strange that the only cousins that I want to see are the ones that aren't in this congealed shithole. The ones that stay, aren't...let's use the term 'winners.'

Watched three movies with the pops last night: Reign of Fire, The Recruit and The Hunted. They weren't nearly as bad as I thought they would be. Especially The Hunted. Nobody ever told me that The Recruit (capitalizing these titles ends now) was shitty, as 'they' had with reign of fire, but reign of fire has fucking dragons. So, needless to say, I was infinately surprised with The Hunted. It's got Benecio Del Toro and Tommy Lee Jones in it, but it's about the US military. My dad usually likes shitty war films (and I don't really blame him for it) so I expected an obsolete ideology cuntflapfest. It wasn't a feel good, yay, we're americans movie at all though. It was a knife fight movie, and that's about the size of it. Anyway, enough about the movie that didn't suck.

Reign of Fire was surprisingly cool. Everyone said it blew chunks, but I didn't dislike it at all really. The plot is as follows: In London, in about 5 years (2008) a subway project or some shit hits this cavern where dragons have been sleeping for a very long time. These dragons caused the extinction of the dinosaurs. In a few years, they decimate human civilization, breeding, burninating and munching on fleshy, pink 2 legged meatbags at an alarming rate. They year is now 20*cough* and there are but a few scattered remnants of humanity. Here's where I have my first big problem with the movie. The narrative starts following this certain human fortress in the former UK.

They have electricity. It's never explained, but they have fucking spotlights, and lamps, and toasters and fuckin wall mounted dildos. Well, maybe not two of those. All the dildos in the movie are battery operated. But, back to the electricity...HOW? I mean, the entire infastructure of the world is decimated, yet they have electricity? They're not even concerned about their usage either. Do they just magic the electricity into the shit? I mean, theoretically, their service should have been cut. They don't even have a mailbox. Maybe it's on automatic withdrawal. Ok, logic hole filled. I'm gonna finish up this post in a day or two, so check back constantly.

Anyway, here's me finishing up this post. "Hey Nate, why don't you delete the line about you finishing up the post, since it's obvious that's what you're doing to anyone who's already read it, and confusing to anyone who hasn't?" Fuck you! You people and your logic, and your 'facts' and your ethanol containing spirits, and your.... I admit I have no clue where I was going with that.

I guess I could talk a bit more about Reign of Fire. Sounds like an idea. Ok, so one of the main reasons I like the film is because it's a post-apocalyptic movie without being a two hour long Aerosmith music video. Not naming any names, you know. Reign of Fire just fills that particular void in American cinema, the post-apocalyptic and the complete lack of dragons. That's not to say that there are no movies about those two things, but just that it's rare. And I happen to like them both.

So, after that useless fucking paragraph (which I'm not going to delete), you need something to keep you reading. What can I possibly say, to compete with such entertainment gems as Paradise Hotel and Classmates, though? I mean, honestly. Am I the only person in this fading democracy that is absolutely in love with Paradise Hotel? No, not according to the ratings. It's a fucking treat. I was watching it religiously, as much as I can be said to do anything but sleeping religiously. Did anyone else see the episode where they were voting on a new male, and one of the guys that's already in 'Paradise' got in like, an alpha male, macho, gorilla style staring match? They're linked by cameras and televisions, yet they still feel the need to stand up and stretch their arms out, thereby intimidating their opponent. You're three thousand fucking miles from each other. Simmer down, simmer down. There's no reason to get real close to the projection screen and raise your voice an octave. Yeah, bump chests with the pixelated opponent, that's a good signifier of your intelligence, you termite eating with a stick motherfucker. If you want to see proof of man's evolution from apes, watch fucking Paradise Hotel. Besides, what a concept for a fuckin' show. Picture two guys doing cocaine in an NBC employee bathroom.

"oh, that's good hooch. Any idea what you're going to pitch at the meeting this evening, Bob?"
"Sweet, sweet....oh, that. No clue. The American Public wants more 'Reality,' but quite Frankly, I don't have much more."
"Well, enough blow is certain to spark your memory."
"Wait wait, I got it. We'll take as many inarticulate, deluded, low-rent, moderately attractive people as we can. Make them Audition for a trip to "Paradise."
"We should get some marginally talented pop-singer to remake that song."
"What song?"
"You know...'I've got, two tickets to paradise...."
"Hold on there, slick, are you saying that it was a good song in the first place?"
"Of course not, what do you take me for?"
"A corporate worker bee that spent the time period where that song was released in an alcoholic haze."
"Get back to your fucking pitch."
"Right. So we send them to this Hotel."
"Like a real hotel?"
"Shut the fuck up, it's not a real hotel, it's a set. It's set in a 'hotel' like survivor was set on an 'island'."
"Ok, continue."
"Do all the traditional reality bullshit. Get a fake british accent for the host, pretend audience involvement, start out with a chick that's ugly beyond all reason and is a personal trainer, get the hot girl with the quivering lip that cries constantly..."
"I always just want to skullfuck those girls."
"...camera cuts with noises that sound like someone's throwing dictionaries against the floor, a voting system, of course."
"Where's the catch?"
"Well, we'll have two shows, one's a live audience thing, where we pick two new people every week, and the people already on the island, who are already partnered up with the opposite sex vote on who's going on. Only girls vote for the guys going, guys for girls."
"Not going to exploit the inexplicable "Will and Grace" phoenomenon, eh?"
"Not this time. Queer eye for the straight guy has that market cornered."
"And their name fucking rhymes, that is so unfair."
"We could call it Paradise is Very Nice."
"The 80's beat rhyming Paradise and Nice so far into the ground that it is now a type of sedimentary rock."
"Yeah, I guess you're right."

I think that's how it happened. Another thing I love about Paradise Hotel is something they've actually kinda stopped doing. At the end of each of the monday night shows, someone gets voted off. They do lots of camera cuts from all the people's faces, on each word of the sentence (which for the first few episodes, was unaltered) "One of you....will leave paradise...forever." In that cheesy fucking, fake as Pamela Lee's tits British accent. Another thing, is on each word of the sentence, they'd do a camera cut with a sound effect. It was a beautiful thing. True proof that production value is like a penis, you've either got it and don't know how to use it, or you need it and are fucking kidding yourself.

That's probably my final thought.

I"m listening to "My Whole World Ended" by David Ruffin. Some new, interesting information has come to light lately. New shit has come to light, and in light of this new shit, I mean, shit. But you guys aren't privvy to all the new shit, but hey, that's what you pay me for.

Ok, first up, I saw a headline in the StarTribune (Newspaper in Minneapolis, not sure if it's a nationalized thing) and the headline read,"Bush Apologizes for Speech." And I thought, finally, he realized that he talks like a bewildered 4th grader. Maybe he realizes that he's been embarassing our fucking country every time he opens his vacuole. No, I was wrong, he said he was sorry for telling us there were weapons of mass destruction in Iraq when the country lacks explosives that are legal for civillian possession in Kentucky.

Also, I'm typing this from such a distance from the monitor that I apoligize for misspellings, but I'm too tired and fucking lazy to go back and correct the shit. That, and I can't read.

Now for more new shit.

I went to a Ween concert last Wednesday, with my friend Bob and his girlfriend Betsy. She brought her friend Christina, and Bob brought me. Long story short, events transpired. Bob told me tonight, which is Saturday, for the record, that she's a psycho. Thanks for the fucking warning, asshole. Here's a boat, Nate, why don't you go sailing? Oh shit, I hope he didn't take that boat in the fucking water, he could drown. Also, for those of you reading the boat imagery as a reference to "It's not about the size of the ship..." FUCK YOU! Can't I type a fucking thing without you thinking I have a small penis? I'm fine with it. I'm not embarassed. I'M NOT EMBARASSED!

So, keeping in mind that this girl is a psycho, Betsy came over today, to see my friend Bob, who is also one of my roomates. She was rather shocked when another female emerged from my bedroom, both of us looking quite disheaveled, with sleep in our eyes and stains on our clothes. The psycho is Christine, the girl I slept with last night is Alisa. Good, glad you're coming with me on that.

Not that I'm complaining, you must understand, and I also don't meant to imply that I've only slept with Alisa once. Unless the psycho goes psycho, which would be uncool.

Other news: I'm not going to make the semi-finals of the comedy contest. Right now I'm ranked 21st. The top 25 proceed to the semi-finals, and there's about 3 more weeks of contestants. I personally blame the fact that they let registration go on for an extra month, and there's way more competition. Still, there's a chance that I'll make it, it's just really slim. Pray with me that everyone who does 3 minutes from now until august 22 sucks. You're not praying. It's not like I had my entire ego riding on this or anything. It's not like I felt like somebody. I've only been doing comedy for a few months. I'm still good. Right? RIGHT? GOD I HATE MYSELF! STUPID! STUPID! STUPID!

Oh! I've been volunteering at Radio K, doing PSA's (public service announcements). I'm going to have access to the locked areas of the studio sometime this week, and the freedom to record anything I want when the stuidos aren't in use. That's not cool. Not cool at all.

That's all my news, and as said before, this has become more of a diary than anything else. Sorry for you people that came wanting something more. Maybe some other time.