“My Fellow Americans, there comes a time in the course of human events when change must be affected,” Afroman wrote on Instagram on Tuesday. “That time is now. Americans are suffering, and the status quo is no longer acceptable. Inflation is out of control. The economy is in shambles. The housing market is staggering. Politicians are corrupt. Bad apples are allowed to remain in law enforcement, amongst our noble and brave officers.”

“It is my immense honor and pleasure to formally announce Afroman as an independent candidate for President of the United States of America,” he added.

Afroman, aka Joseph Edgar Foreman, was born in Los Angeles in 1974 and got an early start in the music business by recording songs and selling them to his classmates by the time he was in eighth grade. He released his first album in 1998 before relocating to Mississippi, where he made contacts in the music business who would eventually produce and perform on “Because I Got High.” The song, which detailed how marijuana could interfere with the chores of modern life, became a hit in 2001, the year the track was featured in films including Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back. Afroman released his latest album, Lemon Pound Cake, in September.

Afroman Pledges To Be ‘Cannabis Commander in Chief’

Referring to himself as the “Cannabis Commander in Chief” and the “Pot Head of State” in his social media post, Afroman promised to make cannabis reform and other issues a priority of his campaign for president.

“Medicinal plants are criminalized, while pharmaceutical companies enrich themselves on chemicals with unknown side effects,” he wrote. “The media sows the seeds of hatred 24 hours a day, 7 days per week, 365 days per year. They attempt to divide based on race, religion, gender, sexual preference, and every other category that they can think of.”

In a separate post on Instagram, Afroman outlined eight priorities for his 2024 presidential campaign. First and foremost was decriminalizing cannabis and “other substances with low harm profiles.” He noted that federal law still classifies marijuana as a Schedule I substance, the strictest classification under the nation’s drug laws. He promised change, saying he would deschedule and decriminalize cannabis and launch a public service ad campaign to publicize the benefits of the plant.

Afroman also pledged to make criminal justice reforms, noting that more than 40,000 people are incarcerated for cannabis at any given time, at a cost of more than $1.5 billion per year. He committed to commuting the sentences of all nonviolent federal cannabis prisoners and said he would “work hard to right the wrongs of the past, in all areas where Americans have been failed within the criminal justice system.”

He also called for law enforcement reforms, an end to all foreign aid, and reparations for African Americans. Other priorities of the campaign include tax breaks for professional athletes to encourage celebratory displays, the legalization of prostitution, and the “promotion of unity, peace, and love.”

“We need a candidate that is truly elected by the people, and for the people. We need a man that can step up and lead with a firm hand,” wrote Afroman. “The people are starved for a Commander in Chief, that leads from a place of love and not hate. In these dark times, we need a leader that truly embodies the American dream.”

The post Afroman Announces 2024 Run for President appeared first on High Times.

Lizzo wore a plethora of makeup items and accessories to the 74th Primetime Emmy Awards last fall but her use of hemp-derived lashes generated the most attention as people are catching on. Glamour reports that Lizzo’s makeup artist Alexx Mayo chose the lashes earlier this year as he prepared her for the Emmys. The exact lashes he used—Velour Beauty Cloud Nine Lashes—are made from vegan plant fibers, 90% biodegradable, and sold at Sephora and Ulta. 

Mayo posted her look on Instagram, and the designer gave Velour Beauty a shout-out for their hemp-derived “falsies” lash line. The team behind Toronto-based Velour Beauty said they are the world’s first hemp-derived lashes last February. 

Why hemp? Hemp proves to be a durable fiber in the beauty world: the biggest perk from using hemp-derived lashes is that they can be used up to 20 times. The company says they’re comfortable as well.

Velour Beauty, maker of the lashes, is Asian and female-led, and Canadian founder Mabel Lee was profiled last year in Fashion. Velour Beauty’s Plant Fibre Lash Collection is “a lash collection that is entirely plant-based! All components of this lash, from band to fibres are derived from plants,” the company writes. “The fibres are so fluffy and natural-looking, you’d never know they were hemp-derived.”

The company continues, “our Plant Fibre Lashes are 100% vegan and cruelty-free, can be reused up to 20+ times and come in 100% recyclable packaging.” By cruelty-free, the company stays away from materials like mink fur.

Velour Beauty offers at least three styles of hemp-derived lashes in its inexpensive Plant Fibre Lash Collection: Second Nature, Cloud Nine, and A New Leaf.

“You get the same Velour quality, lightweight lashes handmade on premium bands for all-day wear and comfort, but you don’t have to compromise quality for sustainability,” the company writes. “With a fluffy natural-looking texture, you’d never know they’re entirely plant-based.”

Lizzo often wears Velour Beauty hemp-derived lashes, as you can see on accounts exclusively devoted to her makeup. Dramatic lashes are part of her persona. The hemp lashes demonstrate some level of commitment to the environment with a better choice of lashes.

Lizzo Posts About Cannabis Often

It’s not just hemp Lizzo is all about; often it’s weed. Lizzo tweets about cannabis often, and swears by suppositories. And she’s happy to tell all of her followers about her encounters with suppository products.

Time named Lizzo as “Entertainer of the Year” in 2019 for her quick rise to fame. With quick fame comes all of the negative consequences. The singer’s messaging in her music videos about body positivity is crystal clear, but doesn’t always fare well on social media. Trolls on Twitter drove Lizzo from the platform temporarily in 2020.

Despite her constant trolls, Lizzo frequently mentions her encounters with cannabis. In one instance, she announced to her Twitter followers she would be trying cannabis-infused suppositories, tweeting later that they were highly effective.

In another instance, Lizzo tweeted that she’s in love, and it’s not just the weed.

Velour Beauty is taking the lead in innovative ways to use hemp in the beauty world, and Lizzo donning the lashes on social media doesn’t hurt. Hemp-derived lashes are a drop in the bucket of all the ways it can provide a better and more durable fiber.

The post Lizzo Sports Hemp Eyelashes in Instagram Trend appeared first on High Times.

The transaction, if approved by state and federal regulators, would add to Combs’ portfolio of enterprises, which includes ventures in entertainment, media, fashion, and alcohol. Combs, the chairman and CEO of Combs Enterprises, said that he is purchasing the assets to address the inequities of the cannabis industry, where 81% of businesses are white-owned, according to a legislative report released in Maryland this week. 

Many Black entrepreneurs have said that difficulties with financing make it difficult for all but deep-pocketed business owners to succeed in the cannabis industry. The barriers to entering the legal market follow decades of marijuana prohibition that saw Black and Brown people disproportionately arrested and jailed for cannabis-related offenses.

“It’s diabolical,” Combs told the Wall Street Journal. “How do you lock up communities of people, break down their family structure, their futures, and then legalize it and make sure that those same people don’t get a chance to benefit or resurrect their lives from it?”

“My mission has always been to create opportunities for Black entrepreneurs in industries where we’ve traditionally been denied access, and this acquisition provides the immediate scale and impact needed to create a more equitable future in cannabis,” Combs said in a statement. “Owning the entire process — from growing and manufacturing to marketing, retail, and wholesale distribution — is a historic win for the culture that will allow us to empower diverse leaders throughout the ecosystem and be bold advocates for inclusion.”

$185 Million Deal

Under the deal, a new firm controlled by Combs will acquire nine cannabis retail stores and three production facilities in New York, Illinois, and Massachusetts. In return, Combs will pay $110 million in cash and another $45 million in debt financing, plus future payments based on growth benchmarks for a total amount of up to $185 million. Combs said he will leverage the new enterprise to help increase Black participation in the cannabis industry, a goal supported by Cresco CEO Charlie Bachtell.

“For an industry in need of greater diversity of leadership and perspective, the substantial presence of a minority-owned operator in some of the most influential markets in the country being led by one of the most prolific and impactful entrepreneurs of our time is momentous…and incredibly exciting,” Bachtell said in a statement on Friday. “We’re thrilled to welcome Sean and his team to the industry.”

In March, Cresco Labs announced that it would acquire Columbia Care in a $2 billion stock transaction. The merger of the two enterprises forms one of the largest cannabis companies in the United States, with operations in 18 states with legal cannabis including early adopters Colorado and California. But regulations governing the cannabis industry and business licenses require the companies to divest some assets in states where their operations overlap, such as Arizona, Florida, Illinois, Massachusetts, New York, and Ohio.

Bachtell said that the deal with Combs is bigger than the transaction itself, “and it couldn’t come at a time of greater significance and momentum.”

“We’ve seen executive power exercised to address matters of cannabis injustice, we’re seeing bi-partisan support for elements of federal reform, and we’re seeing some of the largest and most influential states in the country launch cannabis programs prioritizing social responsibility– this announcement adds to that momentum,” Bachtell said. “For Cresco, the transaction is a major step towards closing the Columbia Care acquisition and our leadership position in one of the largest consumer products categories of the future.” 

Largest Black-Owned Cannabis Company

The transaction is Combs’ first venture into the cannabis industry and will create the United States’ first minority-owned and operated, vertically integrated multistate cannabis operator in a sector projected to grow to $72 billion by 2030. The vertically integrated operations in New York, Illinois, and Massachusetts will provide Combs’ new company the ability to grow and manufacture cannabis products, while wholesale and distribution assets will market those branded products to licensed dispensaries in major metropolitan areas including New York City, Boston, and Chicago. The deal also includes retail stores in all three states. 

“These assets offer the Combs’ team significant market presence, enabling them to make the most impact on the industry as a whole,” said Columbia Care CEO and Co-founder, Nicholas Vita. “It’s been clear to us that Sean has the right team to carry on the strong legacy of these Columbia Care and Cresco Labs facilities, and we can’t wait to see how he helps shape the cannabis industry going forward through his entrepreneurial leadership and innovation.”

The deal is subject to several conditions, including regulatory approval, clearance under antitrust rules and the closing of Cresco Labs’ acquisition of Columbia Care. The companies are also in the process of divesting other assets to meet regulatory requirements ahead of the closing of the deal.

The post Sean ‘Diddy’ Combs Acquires Assets To Launch Largest Black-Owned Cannabis Company appeared first on High Times.

It sure was. At that time I was an editor of the Condé Nast magazine Vanity Fair. I used to buy marijuana cigarettes, then called reefers or weed, from a hunchback Harlem hustler nicknamed Money. They cost $1.50 a joint and were a lot more potent than the tatty, adulterated stuff you often get today. Part of my job on the magazine was to go to all the theater opening nights and to the fashionable nightclubs and parties. I used to get to the office around 8:30 in the morning, and frequently I didn’t leave until just in time to dash home, shower and get into evening clothes. I kept a supply of reefers in my apartment and would usually have a smoke before going out to face the rigors of the night. It got rid of any fatigue and rallied my stamina for the dancing and the revelry, which often lasted until dawn.

Although the stuff was legal then (it wasn’t outlawed until 1937), I doubt if I ever saw it smoked in public places, as one does today in discotheques, in parks, at pop concerts and similar gatherings. After it became illegal, I would often get a whiff of that sweet, unmistakable smell in the powder rooms of smart nightclubs and restaurants; Tallulah Bankhead and I once shared a joint in the ladies’ room of the Waldorf during some society ball. Tallulah smoked everything, took everything, did everything. She never made any secret of her habits. Marijuana, hashish, cocaine and opium were as much in vogue then as they are now—as I guess they always have been—with musicians, artists, poets, theater and film people, as well as with many members of what was called “café society.” It was from personal knowledge that Cole Porter wrote, not necessarily truthfully, “I get no kick from cocaine,” a line barred from radio stations of the time except when changed to “I get no kick from champagne.”

I had my first pot experience in 1933 at a party in Havana. I saw this cigarette being passed from person to person, and although I didn’t understand the ritual, I took my turn when it came my way, tentatively imitating the heavy inhaling and slurping. I asked what it was supposed to do to me. The university professor who was my escort said that when he smoked it, it made him feel so powerful that he would be able to tear the faucets out of the bathroom, should the notion seize him. I refrained from commenting that most Cuban bathroom fixtures were so shaky they fell off if you touched them.

Of course, all the cigarette did was give me the giggles, which is the same reaction I get today, 46 years later. I don’t mean that I’m a dyed-in-the-wool pothead, but I have been smoking, off and on, throughout the years, and I am living proof that it is not harmful and does not automatically lead to heroin, a life of crime, and an inevitable grovel in the gutter. The reason I don’t keep it at home or carry it around with me is because it’s illegal, which is the only proven danger about it. I am by nature law-abiding and can be cowed by signs like DONT SPIT ON THE FLOOR, DÉFENSE DE FUMER, and KEEP OFF THE GRASS. Well, to be frank, it’s not so much that I’m lawabiding as that I’m a coward. I’m afraid of the police, and I certainly don’t want any of those damn trained dogs charging into my apartment and sniffing around.

Although I myself have stuck to pot, possibly on the assumption that what was good enough for the Phoenicians and the Scythians 3,000 years ago is good enough for me—but more likely because of my timidity—many of my acquaintances in the ’30s and ’40s were more adventurous. Cecil Beaton, whom I knew when he, too, was working for Condé Nast, has written in his diaries that he smoked opium with Jean Cocteau, and so, apparently, did everyone else in that international coven of literary and artistic highfliers, including Coco Chanel, whom Cocteau liked to call “a little black swan.” I used to come in on the aftermath of these sessions. Vogue editors in Paris would say to me, “My dear, you should have been at Bebe Berard’s last night. We all smoked opium and it was too divine!”

I seem to have breezed through those days meeting people before or after. I knew the brilliant writer Emily “Mickey” Hahn before she went to China in 1935, where she started smoking opium and loved it, although she now adds that she was cured of addiction through hypnotism and then switched to cigars. I met Aldous Huxley at a luncheon meeting in the Vanity Fair office. No mushrooms on the menu. It was several years later that he discovered the fascination of the mindbending fungi. However, I did know a beautiful red-haired fashion model who spent a month in Mexico and Guatemala trying them out. In Mexico alone, she told me, there were 250 different kinds of organic hallucinogenic mushrooms, but she was vague about the number she had sampled. She later married a titled foreigner of ambiguous background and thenceforth called herself Princess. Back home again, she made quite a splash, getting impressionable local society spaced out in such assorted cities as Detroit, Akron and New York, in each of which she was received with that sickening sycophancy (try to say that when you’re stoned!) Americans display when confronted with any title, even a spurious one.

During the same period, I also knew a young English photographer who was visiting New York and who was taken up by the so-called Smart Bohemian Set of the time. He told me he went to a party with Libby Holman, who said she was bored with reefers and coke and wanted something new. The hostess had some peyote. “I was frightfully keen to try it,” the photographer said, “because I’d heard and read about it. But it was so tough. It was like trying to chew a rubber shoe sole. We finally solved the problem by cutting it into little pieces and stirring them into Jello. After it was in the fridge for several hours it was okay to eat.”

I didn’t meet Errol Flynn until the early ’50s, when I went to Mexico to do a profile of him for Esquire. Along with Ava Gardner, Tyrone Power and Mel Ferrer, he was filming The Sun Also Rises. The company was in Merida, but all journalists were persona non grata. I learned later that the reason was because Errol was charging his head with everything he could get, and every time the company doctor got him partially detoxified he would take off and start flying again. Finally, they got him comparatively under control and the company moved to Mexico City. Errol was staying at my hotel. The film’s press agent took me to his room to meet him. The press agent knocked on the door and gave his name. He was obviously taken aback to hear Errol shout cheerily, “Come on in. I’m taking a piss and the old dong is longer than ever!”

When Flynn opened the door and saw me, he didn’t lift an eyebrow. He bowed and gallantly kissed my hand, too much a natural aristocrat to be abashed—or maybe too stoned. He offered us a choice of tequila, vodka, marijuana or cocaine, ignoring the panicky expression on the face of the press agent, who looked as if he was undergoing an incipient attack of apoplexy. I said I’d have some tequila, while the press agent murmured weakly, “Errol’s a great kidder.” Flynn looked at him benignly. Our visit that day was short, but I saw Flynn alone several times, and although we did share a couple of smokes, I refused the other goodies he offered.

He must have had a remarkably strong constitution. Girls, dope, liquor—usually at the same time. I was talking about him in London with Trevor Howard, who was telling me about the filming of Roots of Heaven in French Equatorial Africa, now Chad. “It was one of my happiest pictures,” Trevor said. “Flynn and I sent a cable to Fortnum & Mason, ordering huge amounts of caviar and smoked salmon sent out to us. We had some jolly times. We all slept in tents, and there was a native girl who used to go into certain tents at night. She’d give a signal by mewing like a cat. So Errol and I used to creep up near Darryl Zanuck’s tent and go meow-meow, and he’d come out looking all around. We almost choked laughing … Errol managed to get all the morphine from the nearest hospital. Cleaned them out. I don’t know how he did it. Had the company doctor requisition it or something, I suppose. Wonderful chap, Errol. Only person I ever knew who took dope and drank like a fish. The two don’t usually go together. A very splendid man.”

No, they don’t usually go together. This is probably why I’ve only smoked pot. I started to drink during Prohibition, and I had no desire for other forms of stimulation. Most people I knew who took cocaine in the ’30s were not heavy drinkers. I never knew anyone who could have been called an addict, or anyone who experienced adverse reactions. Doctors today are beginning to admit that it is not as dangerous as they once thought, and that it does have legitimate medical uses. My friends took it for the same reasons I drank or smoked pot: to get high, overcome fatigue, relieve depression, make people and conversation more interesting, feel euphoric. Also, in some cases it was used to enhance sex by applying it to the tip of the penis, a custom known in Latin America as “la vida real” (“the royal life”), although in Cuba it was claimed they could get the same effect with Baum Bengue.

Like everything else, it was a great deal cheaper then than now. It was also much purer. We called it snow. Where now the verb is “to snort,” it was then “to sniff.” There were few of today’s fancy frills. No silver spoons or gold straws, just ordinary straws, the kind soda fountains give you. No rolled-up $100 bills, either, although a few big-spender types used $10 bills. They were considered showoffs.

I met Peter Lorre shortly after he came to this country. He was Hungarian, born in the Carpathian Mountains region that later became part of Czechoslovakia. He had been making films in Germany, of which the most famous was M, based on the true story of a psychopathic murderer in Dusseldorf. It had a great success both in Europe and here, and his performance is still regarded as one of the great ones in the history of the cinema. I had him come to the Condé Nast studio to be photographed for Vanity Fair.

Afterward, we went out for a drink, so that I could get material for the caption I was going to write. I ordered a Scotch and soda. He said he would have coffee. “You don’t want a drink?” I asked. He looked at me with those mournful, staring eyes. “I am a dope,” he said. His English was far from perfect, so I thought he meant the equivalent of “I am a dumbbell,” or some similar slang of that period. It turned out that what he meant was that he took dope. I reassured him that this was okay and that some of my best friends were dopes.

About ten years ago, when I was living in London, I had lunch with Caresse Crosby, and afterward we spent the rest of the afternoon smoking pot in her hotel room. I was 60 and she was in her mid 70s. She had come up from Rome, where she lived in a castle and was known as the Princess something-orother—some Italian name I’ve forgotten—and spent all her time and energy soliciting funds for an ambitious plan for One World Citizenship.

I suppose most people today never heard of Harry and Caresse Crosby. If I mention the name Crosby, they think I mean Bing. They know about Scott and Zelda, and about Hemingway, but they don’t know about Caresse and Harry, who were the ’20s’most far-out couple, more than a match for any of today’s Beautiful People. They would have thought Studio 54 a bore and Plato’s Retreat too plebian.

Caresse, whose original name was Mary Phelps Jacob, was a descendent of the Plymouth Colony’s Governor Bradford, who came over on the Mayflower. Born in New York, she lived in a mansion on Fifth Avenue at 59th Street, now the site of the Plaza Hotel. Her father apparently had no profession but was supported in high style by his father. The latter’s house was where Rockefeller Center is now. Caresse, then known as Polly, was brought up in luxury, sent to the best private finishing schools, presented at court in London, the only American debutante to curtsy to King George V and Queen Mary. She wore a white brocade satin gown with a train eight yards long, and three white ostrich plumes in her dark hair.

She knew everybody in the upper echelons of society and was expected to follow the rules and keep her place in the Social Register. So she married Dick Peabody of the Boston Back Bay Peabodys, a product of Groton and Harvard. All bills were paid by their grandparents (both sets of them), and they lived with her father-in-law, penniless themselves, like her parents, but living expensively, a subsidized golden couple. When her children were born, her husband’s godfather, J.P. Morgan, the banker, chipped in to pay the bills.

Her life might have gone on this way, had she not met Harry Crosby in 1919, J.P. Morgan’s nephew. “It was love at first sight,” she often said. She divorced Peabody and married Crosby. He was 21. She was 27. J.P. Morgan, “Uncle Jack,” gave Harry a job in the Paris branch of his bank; the bride and groom sublet Princess Bibesco’s flat on the Fauburg St. Honore; and the dizzy merry-go-round began. Harry always wore a black gardenia in his buttonhole (he had them made especially for him at a place on the rue de la Paix), and Caresse bought her clothes at couture houses and her diamond necklace at Cartier’s. Her children by Peabody were sent to Swiss boarding schools. She was accompanied everywhere by her pet black whippet, Narcisse Noir. The dog wore a gold necklace and his toenails were lacquered gold. The Crosbys entertained constantly—princes, dukes, duchesses, counts and other titled guests mingling with sculptors, painters and writers. Harry quit work at the bank because, he said, life was too short to work. And Uncle Jack footed the bills.

Life was a gala of champagne, cocaine, marijuana, hashish and opium smoked in pipes with porcelain bowls and jade handles. Caresse and Harry took a flat of their own in the rue de Lille, where they sometimes entertained in bed, with small tables set up for guests, or in the bathroom, which had an open fireplace, a white bearskin rug and a sunken marble tub. The tub could hold four—and frequently did.

Their idea of a great party was the Arts Ball. Reminiscing as we sat in her London hotel room, Caresse described one such event: “I think it was in 1927. I went as an Inca princess. I wore a long blue wig and was stripped to the waist. I sat in the mouth of a huge papier mache dragon. First, we marched up the Champs Elysees. The girls were nude to the waist, the men completely nude. I rode on a baby elephant, and people crowded around me to kiss my painted knees. Harry wore a collar of dead pigeons and carried a bag of live snakes. When we entered the ballroom, I was carried in my dragon’s mouth by ten handsome nude young men. I won first prize. My breasts helped me win, I’m sure . . . When I went home I found Harry in the bathtub with three pretty girls. We slept seven in our bed that night.”

When not indulging in high jinks that make the ’70s seem tame, the Crosbys were both writing poetry. It was at that time that she adopted the name Caresse. In 1927 they started the Black Sun Press in order to publish their own poems. (She was charmingly vague about any financial sources.) Later, they branched out, printing a collection of Proust’s letters, poems by their close friend Hart Crane, stories by D.H. Lawrence and Kay Boyle, part of Joyce’s work in progress. Their own literary talents were limited, to put it politely, but their exuberant personalities and bizarre ways made them the most sought-after couple in Paris. Everyone visited them, from Schiaparelli, the designer, to Aldous Huxley, Andre Gide, Max Ernst, Giacometti. Even Eva Braun dropped in for a drink, brought by some Viennese acquaintance, and signed the Crosby guest book.

In 1928 they took a fateful trip to Egypt, fateful because Harry became enraptured of Ra, the sun god. He had a sun tattooed between his shoulder blades, and from then on he became increasingly weird until, on a New York visit in 1929, he committed suicide, believing that he was going to meet the sun.

Caresse was made of tougher fiber. She married a couple more times, and wherever she was—New York, Paris, London—she was a center of attention, the fascinating lode star of the wilder international set. Even when I last saw her, she was energetically campaigning for her World Citizen idea, a spunky old lady, loaded with charm and vitality. “I’ve had a great life,” she said to me. “I don’t see why people make such a fuss about dope. It never did me any harm. I used to hate pot because it made me choke, but I got over that. Everyone we knew in Paris smoked it and sniffed cocaine, so Harry and I did, too. But when you sniff cocaine it gets into your clothes, down your neck, under your nails. Opium was more fun, I used to think. It’s no more habit-forming than tobacco. Well, of course, tobacco is habit-forming, isn’t it? It’s much more harmful. It kills you.’’

I didn’t know her in the ’20s, when she was riding high and fast. Perhaps it’s just as well I didn’t. She was too far out for me, although I enjoyed hearing her talk about the old days.

My heyday was in the ’30s. Pot smoking was not as widespread as it is today, which only proves the stupidity of outlawing it. Of course, if you lie around and smoke pot all day, you don’t get anything else done. But if you lie around and drink coffee all day, you don’t get much done, either. There are always people who do things to excess, whether dope, alcohol or gluttony. These are people who would have a problem anyway. I expect that marijuana will eventually be legalized. Some six years ago the Young Women’s Christian Association, during a three-day convention in Michigan, passed a resolution calling for legalization. With such support from an irreproachably wholesome organization, whose official policy has never been to foster depravity, I think it’s about time to put a legal end to the myth that blowing grass makes you a dope fiend.

Read the full issue here.

The post From the Archives: Getting Stoned in the Haut Monde (1979) appeared first on High Times.

When we connect over Zoom, Baker and Smith are eager to share their movie-making insights and their weed smoking exploits, especially with respect to their latest film, Good Mourning, which they both wrote, directed, and starred in. Good Mourning follows London Clash (played by Baker) who wakes up to a message from his girlfriend that reads “I wish I didn’t have to do this thru text. Good Mourning.”—an assumed breakup text. This alarming possibility arrives on the same day that London has an important meeting that will determine the future of his acting career. His day becomes a wild adventure that forces him to choose between his love life and landing the big role. The ensuing conversation is further proof that the combination of both weed and friendship is the perfect formula for any successful creative pursuit.

High Times: Growing up, did you guys ever envision writing, directing, and starring in your own feature films?

Derek Ryan Smith: I did. It was a goal I’d had since I was very young. I probably would say “movie” [instead of feature film] but—

Colson Baker: Yeah, I was gonna say. Every IG Story post that Mod’s done since the start of Instagram has said the word “movie.”

I was always that kid with the giant chunky camera—before they started inventing the smaller ones—filming skate tricks or smoking out of an apple. I was always documenting when I was younger. It kind of felt like everything was leading up to Good Mourning.

On that tip, Good Mourning isn’t your first movie collaboration together. What was the inspiration behind this one and why was it important for you guys to make it?

CB: It’s a very meta movie that came from a real situation that I was spiraling about, which is exactly what the character London was doing in the movie: Misreading a text message and not being able to get the answer back, so asking your friends “What does this mean, what does this mean?” And them just giving you terrible advice.

My favorite parts of the movie are the moments we wrote down that ended up coming to life later. Like the Batman reference. It’s London’s audition—it’s his big day getting his Batman audition—and this was before we even found out they were going to make a new Batman with Robert Pattinson. It’s funny [our] film comes out right after The Batman is the talk of the town.

It reminds me of—and I can’t believe I’m quoting this—Not Another Teen Movie, or Scary Movie, or any of those movies where they reference pop culture moments happening at the time. We didn’t intentionally have any knowledge of these things. Same with the Fake Drake.

DRS: The Fake Drake thing is just mind-blowing to me. I’ll never get over that.

CB: The fact that there wasn’t this viral Fake Drake thing happening when we wrote the movie…[it happened for us] because the role was originally supposed to be Drake. We couldn’t see [the character] as any other person. Drake was going to do the movie, but then because of scheduling, he could only make it one day. But we didn’t have the house that day, and the other day he was back in Toronto. He was like, “If you get a jet, I can make it,” which would have cost the entire budget of the movie to get him via jet to Los Angeles for this five-second shot. It worked even better with the Fake Drake.

DRS: That was my final straw. When I saw the Fake Drake viral thing, I was like, “Dude, stop.” I couldn’t believe it.

CB: Everything manifested from this film. It was a trip.

Do you think in some ways, you guys putting Fake Drake into the film helped it manifest in real life?

DRS: We wrote that skater boy bit and then all of a sudden now I’m engaged to Avril Lavigne [laughs], so I don’t know.

CB: The manifestation from this movie almost feels like it needed to come through some type of vessels, and we ended up being the vessels. Stoner comedies—especially for the new generations—are almost nonexistent, and they’re definitely nonexistent in the sense of actual stoners writing and directing them.

We were not smoking fake weed on set. We had pounds and pounds.

DRS: Shhhhhhhh.

This is High Times, you’re good. We want this information.

DRS: Okay, good.

CB: I reached out to Berner and he sent us a pallet of Cookies and every accoutrement you’d need to get high.

DRS: Whoa. What word did you just use?

CB: Every possible way you could smoke weed, he had it in the package. We knew we had to add to the legend of each classic stoner movie having either a [weed] game that you learn or a new way to roll that you learn. We probably have a 10-minute smoker’s montage in the movie, so if there isn’t one [legendary]…

DRS: Please be “the smorkle.”

CB: It’s either “the smorkle,” “five fingers of death,” or the giant Snoop Dogg joint. I’m hoping one of those lands in the classic stoner archives.

The takeaway being, if one kid emulates your smoking techniques, you guys have done your job.

CB: Absolutely. And by one kid, we hopefully mean one million. But yeah.

What’s the difference in your creative process between making a movie like Good Mourning and making an album?

CB: If we fuck our albums up, that’s just on us. If we fuck the movie up, we embarrass the cast, we embarrass our financiers, we embarrass ourselves.

DRS: Putting your art in other people’s hands is a different kind of monster to sleep with at night.

CB: Or them putting our art in our hands, but them being the ones giving us the money to do it.

DRS: It’s definitely a whole different experience and takes a whole different side of trust to happen. It’s one thing to trust in yourself, it’s another thing to trust in everybody on set.

Is there anything from the music world that you bring into your creative process when you’re making a film?

DRS: I think we might not have believed that we could start a script and finish it if we hadn’t learned how to write a song and be able to finish that. Or if we didn’t know how to finish an album. I think [finishing music] unlocked something in our brains to see something through until the end.

We live in Los Angeles, so how many people are outside this window right now like, “I’m working on [a] script.” And it’s been 30 years, you know?

CB: The other thing I took from music to movies was how collaborative music is. They don’t really bring that into movies too often outside of the Adam Sandlers and the Seth Rogens. There’s a few people who learned that reaching out and being collaborative on films is possible—that you can actually just pick up the phone and ask to collab on films the same way you can ask to collab on songs. That was something we came in with on this.

DRS: We filled this movie with amazing actors and people who have never acted before. People who we just believed could do it. 

You’re not only indoctrinating—hopefully—millions of people to new smoking techniques, you’re also breaking in the talent of your friends in a new lane for them.

CB: One-hundred percent. It was an honor to have the established comedians come in and bring their comedy to our film because some of those lines that Whitney [Cummings] and Pete [Davidson] said, you couldn’t write. Those were strictly from comedic genius brains.

People like GaTa—who we’ve watched on a great series like Dave be GaTa—we were able to give him a character to play that’s the complete opposite of GaTa. People like Megan [Fox], Dove [Cameron], Zach [Villa]—we got to watch them explore characters we haven’t seen them portray before. Like, I’ve never seen Dove in a stoner movie, right? She’s coming from a completely different end of the spectrum in film and TV.

And then Boo [Johnson] who’s this rad skater from Long Beach coming in and having a main role in a movie when he’s never acted before. I now have high hopes that I’ll see him in something else.

You mentioned you were well taken care of with weed on set. How does weed impact your creative process?

DRS: I think with [the Good Mourning] script, it was the genesis to everything. Writing a script can feel like homework and we did not go to college. We were done with school when we finished high school, and I’m pretty sure both of us barely finished high school. [Writing the script] kind of felt like a job, but being able to smoke weed with your best friend all day kind of gave it that cushion to be fun.

CB: I think the act of rolling [papers] is almost like a stress ball or something. It’s less even the smoking and more that you’re able to roll something while you’re writing and you’re sitting in one place. Having something to do with your hands is great. It’s either that, or punching each other in the face. I don’t know if that would have been as productive, but it also would have been satisfying.

Was there any particular strain you guys gravitated toward?

CB: Growing up, I loved Green Crack. I will never forget when I smoked Green Crack for the first time and I was driving in a car that still had snow on the roof of it. In Cleveland, it snows a bunch, so it’s not like you brush the snow off the roof, you just leave it on there and get it off the windows. I was so high on Green Crack and my mouth was so parched that I just reached my hand out of the window and grabbed a giant glob of snow and ate it. It was the most refreshing water taste ever.

DRS: Mine was Jack Herer.

DRS and CB: Ohhhhhhhhhhhh!

CB: Jack Herer, dude! That was the go-to sativa.

DRS: That was the designer weed when we were young.

To that end, do you guys have any plans to create your own strains or partner with any brands?

CB: My friend has a great weed company called Rapper Weed. I think the name is genius, but I don’t have any part in it. I just think it’s a great name.

DRS: I still have plans to write a book where every page is a paper that you can smoke.

CB: Oh, that’s sick.

DRS: You can really digest the writing.

You could have your own smokable library.

CB: Yeah, that’s hard. You could light that library on fire. It’s a new twist on Fahrenheit 451, dude. It’s the less-dark version of that.

What was the most challenging aspect of making Good Mourning?

CB: It would have to be never actually having a cast until the day we would shoot. Even when we had the main cast casted the day before we had to shoot, there was always cameos or characters in the script where we were like, “Oh shit, we forgot there’s ‘Unknown Person #2’ that we always wanted to be so-and-so.” We were calling in favors left and right.

DRS: The hours were pretty crazy. [Colson] also had to show up an hour-and-a-half earlier than me every day to cover up his tattoos. And I think just directing the energy of a bunch of people in the same room and keeping the vibe where it needs to be to get the right shot.

CB: We had to break up the weed montage into two days because there was so much smoking. A lot didn’t get used, but one day the smoke set off the fire alarm in the house, which originally was okay because we’d turned the sprinklers off. Or so we thought. One of the sprinklers was actually left on and it sprayed all over the camera equipment and wouldn’t stop. It was like a fire truck hose was going off.

Did that burn a day?

CB: It burned a lot of the day.

DRS: We flooded the house we were in pretty much.

But you still made a movie.

DRS: Somehow. Somehow we did.

goodmourningmovie.com

This article appears in the August 2022 issue of High Times. Subscribe here.

The post Weed & Friendship: The Perfect Formula appeared first on High Times.

He also shared multiple security footage videos on Instagram showing law enforcement searching various areas of the house. “This is supposed to be a drug and narcotic warrant I had to pay technical people top dollar to install my camera system there’s no drugs or guns in my computer screen. These are burglars hoodlums breaking into the houses of law-abiding taxpaying citizens destroying property,” he wrote on Aug. 29. “I had to pay the camera people thousands of dollars to install my camera system I don’t need them kicc-ing down my door spreading monkeypox in my clothes and ripping up my camera systems so nobody will see these thieves disguised as law-enforcement officers stealing my money Just like the cops in Saint Charles Missouri.”

Afroman’s social media posts took off in popularity. As of Aug. 30, Afroman said he thanked “Police Officer Poundcake” for helping him gain 13,000 followers on TikTok. As of Sept. 2, the TikTok post has 4.7 million views.

According to a TMZ Live interview with Afroman, law enforcement didn’t find what they were looking for. “They took, like, some roaches, and a vape pen, and a jar of CBD. I think they thought I had like hundreds and thousands of pounds or something like that,” he said. “They didn’t have to run up my driveway with AR-15s and all kind of assault weapons. I would have gladly just given that to them.” Afroman also mentioned he has footage of cops pulling cash out of the pocket of his clothing.

“They said they want me to come down and make a statement. I need a lawyer, I don’t know why they came here like this,” he said.

TMZ also asked Afroman about a previous burglary that had occurred in the past as well. He said it took three days for police to visit his home and write a report on the incident. He continued to follow up with the local police station about the report. “I was following up with the progress of the case, and I guess the consistency of my calls was irritating them. They told me ‘If you keep calling up it will get addressed.’ I got a funny vibe, so I fell back, you know.”

Interviewers asked him to elaborate on the “funny vibe,” and inquired if that statement felt like a threat. “You know, a cop speaks politically correct…” Afroman started, but said that he felt like the police station told him to stop calling. 

On Sept. 1, a local news channel covering the incident claimed that the search warrant listed “possession of drugs, drug trafficking, and kidnapping.” “No kidnapping victims, no pounds of marijuana (especially in my suit pocc-ets) or narcotics. No charges. No warrant for my arrest,” Afroman wrote. Just A few roaches in my ash tray them on camera destroying my property, stealing my money like the cops in Saint Charles Missouri, and disconnecting my cameras so no one sees them stealing my money.”

Ohio legalized medical cannabis in 2016, but recreational cannabis is not allowed. Although there was a legalization ballot initiative in the works, it has been postponed until the 2023 election.

The post Afroman’s Ohio Residence Raided by Local Law Enforcement appeared first on High Times.

“It’s an honor to finally have a presence in Colorado, one of our nation’s most discerning cannabis markets,” Trixie Garcia, one of Jerry’s daughters and spokesperson for the Garcia family, said in a statement. “Garcia Hand Picked works with an exclusive network [of] local growers in each market we’re in that have become part of the Garcia Hand Picked family, and we’re excited to bring only the highest quality, curated cannabis to our fans and friends in Colorado.”

Garcia Hand Picked debuted in California in 2020 and is now available in more than 300 dispensaries in California, Colorado, Maryland, Massachusetts and Oregon, with plans to expand to Michigan soon. According to market analyst BDSA, the collaboration is the leading celebrity cannabis brand in the United States. The strains available for the Colorado launch, which are named after songs written by Jerry Garcia and are selected to be perfect for any time of day, include Morning in Marin (Sativa), Love in the Afternoon (Hybrid) and After Midnight (Indica), among others.

In California, Garcia Hand Picked recently launched a program called Hand Picked Farms to support independent and legacy farmers, offering flower that is “Sun and Earth Certified,” meaning that it is sungrown in the ground without chemicals by farmers who are paid fairly for their work. Consumers can look for the “Sun and Earth Certified” Hand Picked Farms sticker on packs of Garcia Hand Picked flower sold in California dispensaries.

The Garcia Hand Picked line also includes a curated selection of premium indoor cannabis flower in collectible and re-usable glass jars. Each product is paired with a specially selected playlist of Jerry Garcia’s music that corresponds with the strains to create a unique brand experience. Fans can go to the “Music Never Stopped” section of GarciaHandPicked.com to listen to the musical selections.

Holistic Industries notes in a statement from the company that Jerry Garcia rarely smoked weed by himself, instead preferring a shared joint, which “became a bridge between him and those around him.” To honor that spirit, the Hand Picked Garcia line has emphasized pre-rolled joints featuring a custom glass tip with Jerry’s handprint, offered in eco-friendly packaging made from recycled paper. Other products in the collection include Jerry’s Picks, cannabis gummies shaped like Jerry’s actual guitar picks, which will be coming to the Colorado market soon. Merchandise, including apparel and accessories with original artwork by Jerry Garcia, the Garcia Hand Picked logo, and other designs will be available.

Jerry Garcia: Groundbreaking Artist and Weed Icon

Jerry Garcia was the co-founder, lead guitarist, vocalist, and lead songwriter for the counterculture rock band the Grateful Dead, which rose from the 1960s San Francisco Bay Area scene of drugs, music, and social change. A groundbreaking artist with a career that spanned more than 30 years, Garcia was inducted with the Grateful Dead into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1994, just a year before he died of a heart attack at a California drug rehab facility.

To celebrate the upcoming 80th anniversary of Jerry Garcia’s birth on August 1, the Colorado launch of Hand Picked Garcia will feature Bertha, a custom Airstream trailer that tours the country filled with music and merchandise, at The Jerry Garcia Symphonic Experience at Red Rocks Amphitheater in Morrison, Colorado on June 29. Bertha will then tour select dispensaries across the state through the Fourth of July holiday weekend to mark the launch of Hand Picked Garcia to the Colorado market.

“Playing music in Colorado was always a high point for Jerry, he dug the closeness of the audience and the energy that flowed more freely in the mountain air,” said Jerry’s daughter Annabelle Garcia, a spokesperson for the Garcia family. “The hidden stories in the rocks were a source of cosmic speculation and inspiration on the long drives to and from the shows. For Jerry, every ridge held a secret treasure, or an alien spacecraft, or a Bigfoot listening to the shows.”

“Red Rocks is the perfect venue to celebrate our Father’s 80th birthday! Where the sky and mountains meet, we will make a joyful noise and spread some good lovin’,” added Trixie Garcia. “The symphonic interpretation of these cherished tunes elevates them to an otherworldly place, and when ‘Terrapin Station’ erupts, and the big instruments start to resonate, it’s going to be very powerful!”

The post Garcia Hand Picked Launches in Colorado appeared first on High Times.

The interaction is just one example of how the co-host of the hugely successful podcast Your Mom’s House—which she hosts with Segura—is able to wear many hats and handle a variety of different responsibilities, all which can be managed with time. “Everything is planned, everything is on schedule, and you give everything time. You give marriage time. You give your children time, you give [your career] time. And then you give yourself time.”

With her new Netflix one-hour special Mom Genes which released on May 8, Pazsitzky is particularly enthused to be speaking with High Times—having grown up in Los Angeles, where the magazine played a huge role developing San Fernando Valley culture. Over the course of our conversation, Pazsitzky reveals her strategies for maintaining balance between work and home life, her back-in-the-day affinity for White Widow, and why true happiness is linked to not giving a fuck and carving your own path.

Christina Pazsitzky: Can I just say for the record how stoked I am to be giving an interview to High Times? One of the first boys I was obsessed with in high school had an issue of High Times in his room and I thought he was the absolute coolest. He also had a VHS tape of Howard Stern’s Butt Bongo Fiesta. I was in love.

High Times: A guy having High Times magazine gave him a lot of street cred in your eyes at that time.

Of course. Also, [he] was forbidden fruit because it was my friend’s older brother. And you know, you can’t make out with your friend’s older brother—and we never did—but back then, this was the early ’90s when weed wasn’t legal. I remember thinking, “This guy is a real renegade. Pictures of weed? What?” It kind of blew my mind.

Amidst enjoying the company of your friend’s older brother—in a PG way—did you ever think the comedic path was something you’d embark upon?

I never thought in my wildest dreams I would have the career that I do now, mostly because the internet and podcasting never existed—though I knew I wanted to make a living somehow being myself. I also knew I loved jokes.

My parents were Hungarian, and every Sunday my dad would have these barbeque parties and all of the old Hungarians would come around. Guys who were missing knuckles on their fingers—carpenters and hardcore blue-collar Eastern Europeans who would stand around and sling jokes. As a little girl, I was like, “Dude, there’s something magical in telling a joke.” These were heavy dudes who escaped a communist country, yet something powerful with humor was happening.

There were these joke books when I was a kid called Truly Tasteless Jokes, and I would memorize dead baby jokes, blonde jokes, Jew jokes—they were all categorized by race and were horribly inappropriate by today’s standards—and I would repeat those jokes at school in third grade. I didn’t even know what the racial stuff was—I had to ask my dad later—but I loved the timing and the power of knowing something that the grownups knew.

Hence my love for Howard Stern very early. I started listening to Howard because I worked at my dad’s shop—he was a forklift mechanic—and I started listening when I was 13 years old during the summer. To hear dirty humor—it was a secret of what the adults were talking about. Then when you get to an age when you start to understand it, it’s like, “I know the code, dude!”

It sounds like you had a fascination, curiosity, and understanding of comedy and how comedy can be a filament between you and the adult world.

I was also kind of a weirdo growing up. During recess, the kids would be playing and I would be laying across the monkey bars just kind of thinking about stuff. I think there was always an antisocial element to me—I was never a cheerleader, I was a goth—so I loved being on the outside. I just had to figure out how to put that into something creative.

Was there a moment that served as a jumping-off point where you realized comedy was something you could pursue rather than simply participate in?

What happened was, instead of getting funny in high school and in college, I turned goth, and I got real dark. But with comedy, it’s tragedy plus time, right? So I was horribly tragic. From the time I was 13 to 21, I wore black and stayed out of the sun. I was so fucking depressed.

I had a degree in philosophy when I graduated from school, which was so fucking useless, and when I was 22, I went to go work for this lovely man named Chris Abrego. Chris goes, “Christina, you’re the worst employee I’ve ever had, but you’re also the funniest. Have you thought about doing comedy? Go to The Groundlings.” So I started at The Groundlings and was innately decent at comedy, but then thought to myself that I didn’t want to pretend to be in a fucking donut shop. All of those years of brooding, I had something to say. I started stand-up at 23 or 26 and then I never looked back.

What gave you the confidence and the awareness to lean into yourself, not give a fuck, and do what you had to do to have the career you’ve had?

Anything worth doing is awful. Awful and amazing. Just know that when you choose to create a path or you choose a path that your parents won’t approve of and people will talk shit to you—just know that that path will be harder. But it’s so worthwhile. It is so much better in the long run, and that’s mastery. It’s 10 years. It’s 10,000 hours. It’s The Beatles going to Hamburg and playing in a dump until they get good. And that’s the fun part.

Even when you’re successful in stand-up, you have to keep at it. Everything requires work, so you have to figure out what you want to dedicate your energy to. Just make sure you really enjoy it. You’re going to fail, you’re going to succeed, you’re going to fail—so you might as well pick something that fires you up. Looking back, I kind of unconsciously sabotaged myself. I failed so hard at everything else.

I got into law school and then dropped out after two weeks. I got into graduate school for philosophy and then I quit after a semester. I had 22 jobs in four years in every field I’d been remotely interested in and had either been fired or quit. So I tried everything and then disappointed my parents and fucked my life up so much that there was no going back. There were no exits. So it was either [comedy] or nothing.

Thank God I married Tom Segura because Tommy really pushed me and kept me on the path, and we both did it at the same time. I’m so thankful for him and he and I going through it together. Having a partner to be poor with—we were so poor when we got married, we had $200. We were both broke-ass comics, but we were like, “Fuck it, we’re going to do it. We’re going to do this, dude, failure is not an option.” When your back’s against the wall, homie, you do it.

And thank God for pot, by the way. I know people don’t call it “pot” anymore, but seriously, shout-out to White Widow in 2009 [laughs]. That bitch kept me creative when I was so full of anxiety. If I didn’t have weed in ’08 or ’09, where would I be today?

Third grade was the first time I got high actually. I ate pot brownies by accident at a pool party. It was opening day at the ‘84 Olympics and I fell asleep, and when I woke up, my mom had made me all of these barbeque chicken wings. I was like, “These are the best wings ever, thank you!”

Did people know you were high?

This chick in our apartment complex brought pot brownies to the swimming pool party that everybody was at. I ate one and jumped in the pool. I ate two and jumped in the pool. I ate three—and by the third one, this lady was like, “Oh, you should tell your kid to stop eating those.” It was the ’80s, bro, it was the ’80s. So my mom just took me home. I remember laying on the couch, I watched the opening ceremony to the ’84 Olympics and then I guess I fell asleep. It wasn’t traumatic at all. I guess it must have been an indica.

Is there any strain that currently helps you with your creativity or creative process?

I take CBD at night to calm me down—I love CBD. For weed, I’ll take tinctures, and I’ll get so high because I’m very impatient. I’ll take a drop and be like, “Dude, nothing is happening.” Then four hours later, I’m like, “Oh my God, I’m having a stroke!”

Someone at The Comedy Store gave me some super powerful liquid and I thought it was just CBD without anything in it. I was like drippity drop, here’s another dose, and woke up at three in the morning like, “Tom, I’m having a stroke!” [Laughs] He’s like, “Well, did you take anything?” And I was like, “Just this CBD I got from The Comedy Store.” And he’s like, “Babe, that’s the most powerful stuff.” So I tend to take CBD without THC in it, and that really, really helps.

Speaking of Tom, what was the formula for successfully maintaining your relationship with him and putting in the necessary time and energy into your career?

For the career, I studied people I admired and I studied their path. I was obsessed with Phyllis Diller, I was obsessed with this book called “The Magic of Believing,” I was obsessed with Napoleon Hill, Tony Robbins, Deepak Chopra—you name it, I read it.

For Tom and I—and it sounds so obnoxious—it was never work for us. It’s never been work. We’re very compatible. I think comedy kept us together, a love for the same pursuit. The thing that kept us bonded was Your Mom’s House because we were both on the road grinding the weeks out, but then once a week, we had to meet and do the [podcast]. In that thing that we did together, we’d recap each other’s week and we found the lane that we both existed on, which was Your Mom’s House. Maybe that’s the thing—the glue. [Tom] and I are just wired similarly.

I think that’s the secret to a good relationship—find somebody whose priorities are similar and their wiring is similar. Like we’re psychotic, dude. We’ll do by any means necessary to get here, and we did.

It sounds like you guys understand and appreciate each other so you can help the other lean into who they are and who they need to be.

One-hundred percent. I’ve always been someone who is driven and credit to Tom—I was with boys before who were such fucking losers that they would be like, “I can’t be with you because you’re this or that.” I studied at Oxford and had a boyfriend who was like, “I can’t be with you because you’re too smart.” I was like, “Fuck you, dude.”

Tom is so special in that he’s always wanted me to achieve and he’s always helped and been behind that. That’s a really secure human being.

It’s funny, I know what makes Tommy laugh—he loves dicks. His humor is dick and balls stuff. But my humor is pooping. We’re just children. It’s such a great escape from being responsible adults.

How do you balance raising kids with having your career?

You really have to be deliberate with your time. When you’re young, time— you just have it. You can sit around and read High Times and watch Butt Bongo Fiesta. And then you get married, you have kids and careers, and you just have to really, really guard your time.

Motherhood is heavy, I’m not going to lie. It’s so much responsibility, especially for me because my family life [growing up] was so wackadoodle. My mom was mentally ill and my parents divorced, so there’s been a lot of stuff I’ve had to work through in therapy for a decade before I had kids. So like, yeah dog, it’s heavy. Motherhood and parenthood is heavy and it should be a responsibility that you take seriously, and it’s really important to not let it get you down.

In Mom Genes, my [latest] one-hour Netflix special, I wanted to make something to get out of the worldwide heaviness of COVID and even now with Russia blowing up Ukraine. Like, you must fight the fight and you must resist what the world wants you to think and feel. I think with social media, we’re so bombarded by negative shit right now that we need to find places to laugh and be juvenile. Sing and dance and be stupid and be silly—this is your life.

Mom Genes isn’t just about motherhood and stuff, it’s meant to be silly and fun and an escape for people. I dressed very glamorously for this special for a reason—I wanted to be transcendent. I want people to watch and feel relief from this world for an hour.

So Mom Genes is meant to give people some fuel to endure and preserve.

I talk about how I love the ’80s because they were about resilience. I believe in resilience. Feelings are important, yes, and it’s nice that we’re honoring everybody’s feelings, but now what? I think it’s such an important thing as I raise my kids to be like, “Yeah dude, life is this, life can suck, things are hard. But guess what, motherfucker? You’re gonna get up and you’re gonna do it again!”

It’s what I learned doing stand-up. You’re gonna fail, things are hard, yes the world is bleak, but get the fuck up and do it again and get better and get stronger. Just keep going. Don’t let this world get you down. Don’t let anybody dictate how you go about in this world.

Pilot your own ship.

Yeah, bro! That’s it, that’s the secret.

Like I said, I’m happy people are discovering narratives that are false. I’ll use women, for instance, because I am one. The whole thing on fat-shaming or women are oppressed and this and that… When I started stand-up, nobody wanted to hear women. It’s guys with their arms folded in the front row, and I could have been like, “Woe is me, this is terrible,” but I was like, “Fuck you, I’m going to make this work.” Just sing your own song and let them come along, bro. Don’t let them tell you who you are. You tell them.

@thechristinap 

christinaponline.com

This article appears in the June 2022 issue of High Times. Subscribe here.

The post Christina P Knows the Secret to Dirty Humor appeared first on High Times.

Port of Champlain CBP officers encountered a vehicle with a 30-year-old female and 30-year-old male, both U.S. citizens, who were returning home from a vacation to Canada. The vehicle didn’t pass inspection, and was referred to the secondary inspection area for further examination.

On June 5, U.S. Customs and Border Patrol tweeted that they seized a car full of cannabis, psilocybin mushrooms and psilocybin edibles, and MDMA from the vehicle.

“On Wednesday, two U.S. citizens returning from Canada had their vehicle examined by Champlain CBP officers,” U.S. Customs tweeted. The inspection led to officers seizing ecstasy, marijuana, and psilocybin mushrooms in raw form and infused in a chocolate bar.”

The officers posted photos of shrooms in front of a pop-top canister, probably containing the weed. The other photo showed what looks like MDMA tablets.

While cannabis is legal—sometimes on both sides of the border—taking it over border lines is a no-no, and the punishments are entirely different. In this case, cannabis is legal on both sides of the border; in Montreal as well as New York state. The variety of drugs present in the car didn’t help out, either.

“A subsequent physical inspection of the vehicle discovered various narcotics, that included ecstasy, marijuana, and psilocybin mushrooms in raw form and infused in a chocolate bar,” a June 3 press release reads. “The narcotic substances field tested positive for the presence of methylenedioxymethamphetamine [MDMA], marijuana and psilocybin.”

But for Joe Rogan, the types of drugs don’t matter; he believes the government should not decide what substances are legal. In a June 6 tweet, Rogan slammed U.S. Customs, saying that they themselves should try psychedelics for a change.

But the CPB officers stood by their efforts.

“Our CBP Officers continue to remain dedicated and vigilant, successfully intercepting these illegal substances,” Champlain Port Director Steven Bronson stated. “I am proud of their enforcement efforts to ensure the safety of our communities.”

Rogan is known for his often controversial views, and also for cannabis and notably psychedelics. Of all psychedelics, Rogan has been the most vocal about dimethyltryptamine (DMT) specifically, saying there are “lessons to be learned” by having the DMT experience.

“The experience is so overwhelming and so alien,” Rogan told Rolling Stone in 2015. “It’s just hard for anyone to describe. You’re just, boom! Shot to the middle of everything for 15 minutes. Constantly changing geometric patterns. Jokers with jesters’ hats on, all giving me the finger…”

For Joe Rogan’s 50th birthday in 2017, High Times workers superimposed his face over Tommy Chong on an old issue. The real cover actually features a young Chong on the cover of a 1989 issue.

Beyond being a psychedelic and cannabis advocate, Rogan is also known for his controversial views on unverified medical claims, such as anti-vaxxing conspiracies. Even his $200 million dollar Spotify deal came into question amid his views about COVID and other topics that some people claim are misleading and dangerous.

Rogan’s views about loosening laws around cannabis and psychedelics, however, are a bit more popular across the board. Even MDMA is being observed for its possible medical benefits.

The post Joe Rogan Slams U.S. Customs for Seizing Weed and Psychedelics appeared first on High Times.

Natural processes in every human body, such as the runner’s high, mimic and overlap with the effects of cannabis. In terms of physical fitness, the science suggesting how cannabis can benefit recovery and mental health is overwhelming.

High Times reached out to some former professional athletes who are spreading awareness about the ways that cannabinoids can help aid in the recovery process after exercise and how these compounds can promote mental health when pharmaceuticals fail. 

Ricky Williams

Former NFL running-back-turned-cannabis-advocate Ricky Williams is putting all of his energy into his cannabis-related business endeavors. Why? Because pointless cannabis restrictions in sports almost turned his career upside-down.

Williams won the coveted Heisman Trophy in 1998. He boasts 10,009 rushing yards, 68 rushing touchdowns, 2,606 receiving yards, and eight receiving touchdowns. But despite his accomplishments in the NFL, he was suspended five times during his 11 seasons with the league because of cannabis—and his celebrity notoriety as a toker didn’t help.

Williams missed out on two NFL seasons in his prime because of drug tests. Cannabis is stored in body fat and can linger in the body for weeks if not months. He launched Highsman, a cannabis lifestyle brand created to empower professional and everyday athletes, in October 2021. The company’s name is a play on the Heisman Trophy.

Most recently, Williams collaborated with the popular pre-roll company Jeeter to launch a new cannabis strain called “Sticky Ricky,” but it’s not the profits he’s after. According to an announcement, 100% of the proceeds from this collaboration with Jeeter are going to Athletes for CARE (A4C) to support mental health initiatives. A4C is a nonprofit organization founded by former athletes including Williams, with a mission to assist fellow athletes with everything from mental to physical health.

Williams revealed some of the reasons he turns to cannabis to help in mental and physical recovery. Lately, he’s been into yoga, meditation, and healing, augmented with cannabis.

“Yoga is a major part of my physical routine, and when practicing, cannabis allows me to be more aware of how energy is moving in my body/mind system,” Williams said. “For example, it helps me to feel where there is flow and where there is congestion or a lack of flow.”

Like the “flow state” achieved by cross country runners and endurance sports figures, cannabis can provide a beneficial trance that brings balance. 

“This connection allows me to focus my movement in ways that lead to efficiency and ease of movement, which has the added benefit of helping to prevent injuries,” Williams said.

highsman.com

Floyd Landis

Road racing cyclist and former Tour de France champion Floyd Landis found relief with the help of CBD and other cannabinoids. Among his many decorations, Landis originally won general classification—the main prize—at the 2006 Tour de France, in spite of suffering from osteonecrosis, a disease caused by reduced blood flow to the joints. He powered through and rebounded in stage 17 against all odds. His hip was later replaced with a metal-on-metal hip joint. 

Landis then became one of the first to come clean about the widespread doping controversy involving the top endurance road racing cyclists in the world over a decade ago, losing some titles. He was subsequently portrayed by Academy Award-nominated actor Jesse Plemons in the 2015 film The Program. 

“Back in 2006, I had a hip replacement as a result of injuries I sustained in bicycle racing a few years before that,” Landis told High Times, acknowledging that the benefit of medical cannabis wasn’t always accepted like it is today, especially in the world of pro sports. “Back then, it was known within small groups but it wasn’t, you know, talked about and widely debated as it is now. And so I was prescribed some narcotics along the way for dealing with pain after the surgery.”

Landis explained that opioids work well for pain—initially. But some people turn to them to forget about their problems, which can lead to full-blown addiction. 

“Next thing, you know, it’s a problem in and of itself,” Landis said. “I’ve dealt with that for a couple years. And I kind of discovered marijuana a few years later, as a means to [aid] for whatever reason.”

Throughout his career, Landis didn’t smoke weed, as it wasn’t part of the endurance cycling culture. He wouldn’t discover its medical benefits until later on. 

“[Cannabis] also comes with other psychological benefits,” he said. “It helps with anxiety. It helps with the things that probably people are trying to treat with narcotics.”

Organizations such as the World Anti-Doping Agency (WADA) are slowly changing the tune on CBD, which is allowed, and expanding the limits for THC. 

“Up until recently, at least, they haven’t considered testing for CBD metabolites and I don’t think they ever will,” Landis said of WADA. “They are focused on THC. And even that’s become deregulated quite a bit.” 

Landis also acknowledged the similarities between the runner’s high and cannabis. The phenomenon describes the euphoria caused after a moderate exercise of 20 minutes or more. It is a natural mechanism in our bodies involving the endocannabinoid system, a cell signaling system which promotes balance when it comes to things like motivation and appetite. The experience of the runner’s high is the body feeling the rush of a cannabinoid produced internally as opposed to the cannabinoids produced in the cannabis plant.

“I think a lot of what your body naturally produces, through exercise, are very similar to some of these cannabinoids,” Landis said. “And so people often augment that with either marijuana or hemp products to kind of enhance the feeling that they get in, you know, at the end of a long run or that for hours afterwards.” 

Landis explained that the endurance events he is used to are a bit more extreme, so the runner’s high is accompanied with the shock of a strenuous workout. Endurance athletes are constantly balancing their careers with the effects of exertion from long distances such as inflammation or pain and swelling in the tendons.

Throughout Landis’ career, he attracted a few familiar fans. Robin Williams was among the top followers of endurance cycling and Landis. He even gave Landis a nickname that stuck—“Mofo of the Mountain.”

“He was great,” Landis said. “He got into being a cycling fan, riding his bike a bit, just trying to stay healthy back in, during the time when Lance Armstrong [was riding]. And so he would come, you know, he would come to the Tour de France and join us on the bus after a given stage and tell jokes. And I always kind of envied him. He seemed like he was just naturally high all the time.”

Leadville, Colorado is home to some big endurance sports, such as the Leadville 100, running races, mountain bike races, and so on. In 2018, Landis launched his CBD company Floyd’s of Leadville and is currently debuting a product with CBN, CBG, THC, and CBD. 

“We’re always constantly trying to refine which combinations of cannabinoids will do what,” he said.

floydsofleadville.com

Josiah Hesse

Josiah Hesse, author of the book Runner’s High: How a Movement of Cannabis-Fueled Athletes Is Changing the Science of Sports, is among the top advocates of cannabis-propelled athleticism. Last September, Hesse spoke to ABC News correspondent Linsey Davis to discuss his book and explain how the runner’s high is linked to the high from cannabis—exposing the phenomenon to a much bigger audience.

“The two—neurologically speaking—are nearly identical,” Hesse told High Times. “What goes on in the brain, when we have the natural runner’s high, as mentioned, is an endogenous cannabinoid. Most researchers point to anandamide, which comes from the Sanskrit word for bliss.”

Hesse explained that humans have engaged with the high associated with an endocannabinoid boost for millions of years. The body’s production of endogenous, or internal cannabinoids like anandamide, reduce pain and increase things like joy and the appreciation of nature. We also get those effects from phytocannabinoids in cannabis. As explained in Hesse’s book, neurologists have data to suggest that THC increases the production of anandamide, so it is believed to get you to the runner’s high more quickly and efficiently. 

“The percentage of people who are exercising—who knows what percentage of them enjoy it,” Hesse said. “Throughout the process of promoting this book effort, so many people talked about how much they hate exercise, but that they do it anyway. So it’s an even smaller fraction who are doing it as a playful, enjoyable, recreational activity. So what cannabis can do is induce that natural evolutionary reward system for enjoying exercise quicker and faster.”

Research indicates that you need to get over a certain hump to achieve the runner’s high. 

“It’s typically running at around 70% heart rate for 20 to 30 minutes,” Hesse said. “Most people don’t get there—they either go too fast or they go too slow and never get there. Either way, most people hate getting to that point.”

Hesse said a moderate dose of cannabis can be a way for people to achieve that euphoria faster and more efficiently. He said that he personally never had any interest in sports, and very little interest in exercise—that is, until he started prepping with cannabis edibles. 

In sports organizations like the NBA, cannabis use is everywhere. Former Chicago Bulls No. 2 pick Jay Williams told Jade Sciponi of FoxBusiness in 2016 that 75% to 80% of NBA players smoke cannabis.

“I found out that [cannabis use in sports] is so popular, yet so under-reported,” Hesse said. “I couldn’t ignore it as a journalist.”

The World Anti-Doping Agency removed CBD from the list of banned substances in 2018 and raised the threshold of THC up to 120 nanograms, which allows athletes to utilize cannabis during training and then stop a week or two before competition. THC metabolites are typically out of the system by then, but the Mayo Clinic cites that they can be detected for as long as 46 days after consumption.

“I don’t think it qualifies as a performance-enhancing drug in the way that we think we understand that term, which is in relation to competition,” Hesse said.

The purpose of strict doping rules is to abate the use of banned substances like steroids, which can make competitive situations unfair. 

“That’s not going to happen with cannabis. It’s not going to make your muscles stronger. It’s not going to make your blood more efficient,” Hesse said.

josiahhesse.com

Eben Britton

Entrepreneur, founder, advocate, and former NFL star Eben Britton’s book, The Eben Flow, is a compendium of experiences and insights exploring his transformation from pro sports to his recent focus on wellness. It’s a fascinating read incorporating various tracts of health practices from all corners of the world and a testament to Britton’s devotion to health and well-being.

Trauma and the NFL are synonymous, given the brutal nature of the sport. After six seasons of professional football, four years with the Jacksonville Jaguars followed by two with the Chicago Bears, Britton was “physically, mentally, and emotionally destroyed.”

Fortunately, the alternative ways cannabis can help played a major part in his mental and physical recovery.

“My relationship with cannabis has evolved greatly over the last few years,” Britton told High Times. “While it is still an integral part of my daily routine I use it in a much different capacity today compared to how I used it during my career.”

Britton is also currently focused on practices involving yoga, as well as breathing and meditation. Ayurvedic medicine is also part of the new ways Britton is incorporating alternative therapies.

“In Ayurveda, cannabis is known as a ‘trauma reducer’ and it was exactly this during my NFL career,” Britton said. “When I was taking on significant physical damage, as well as emotional and mental stress, cannabis was my saving grace. Something I could come home to that would quell my rattled nervous system, decompress my mental and physical body, allowing me to rest and recover.”

Britton admitted in 2016 that he consumed weed before three NFL games he played in. Finding alternatives to prescription drugs is a big part of the message he wants to convey in his book.

“Over the last five years, as I have healed many of the wounds that plagued me during my career, cannabis has taken on a much different role,” Britton said. “I primarily use CBD for mental clarity and inflammation, consuming much less THC than I ever have, saving my whole-plant cannabis consumption for after a sunset to prepare me for a restful night of sleep.”

After retiring from professional sports, Britton co-hosted over 50 episodes of the Hotboxin’ with Mike Tyson podcast before producing and hosting his own podcast, The Eben Flow. He also co-founded the community-based athlete advocacy association Athletes for CARE, and sits on the advisory board of Wake Network, a psilocybin research and development company. Last year, Britton joined the Revenant MJ cannabis brand in California founded by NFL brethren Kyle Turley and Jim McMahol, as partner and spokesperson.

Ebenbritton.com

This article appears in the June 2022 issue of High Times. Subscribe here.

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