There is nothing more relaxing, enjoyable, and glorious than sharing some quality weed amongst friends. It’s a great time to bond, unwind, and relieve the stress of a long workday or workweek. And if you’ve made it to the end of a milestone (the end of a workday or workweek does count!), you deserve to get righteously stoned. Everyone knows that.
And when you think about it, celebrating, relaxing, bonding, <insert your favorite verb here>, is so much better with weed. Certainly better than with alcohol. With weed, you never end up puking and you never end up with a hangover. You can get as high as you want, sleep like a baby, and then get up for work the next day, refreshed and ready to focus.
On top of all that, alcohol is just empty calories that go straight to your thighs or your gut. Weed, on the other hand, revs up your metabolism and can actually help you burn calories. Oh weed, how we do love you so!
Really, what’s not to love about weed and getting high? Weed is a unique drug that takes you down a winding path. You start off in one place and are then transported through a psychedelic journey.
Oh, and let’s not forget about how weed increases your creativity. You always get your best ideas when you’re stoned. It literally broadens your mind, man! And who isn’t into broadening their horizons and thinking in new ways? No one I know.
From euphoria to deep thoughts, everyone can relate to these seven stages of being super, super high. Enjoy the ride!
Stage 1 Of Being High: What just happened?
Ten seconds ago, you had just taken one too many hits off the dragon-shaped bong being passed around. You could barely see out of your swollen eyes, your lungs were burning, and you were desperately trying not to cough (but, of course, you were). You were sure your friends were judging you as you hacked up half your lung. Five seconds ago, you were even questioning where your life was going…and then it hit.
The tetrahydrocannabinol crossed the blood-brain barrier, settled snugly into the CB1 receptor, powered up your neurons, and sent you flying in a blue dream. One moment you were fine (other than the coughing), and then—“Whoa!”—you were gone. It grabs a hold just that fast and is what we’ve dubbed the “what-the-eff-just-happened moment”. It’s one of our favorite parts of getting high.
Stage 2: Euphoria
After the “what-the-eff-just-happened moment”, you’re on your way to getting extremely, unbelievably, what-did-I-even-just-do-to-my-body stoned. Sometime during this stage of things, you’ll be overcome with a powerful, almost palpable, sense of euphoria. You’ll probably lean close to your friend and squeal, “Dude, I’m so high!” (We always do.) Then you’ll erupt into a fit of laughter that lasts much longer than it probably should. You’ll collapse back into the couch and just melt away. Your limbs will feel like they weigh 592 pounds. (Yes, 592 pounds exactly. We’ve run tests.) You won’t be able to move, but you won’t even care. All of your worries will have disappeared. You’ll be primed and ready to put on The Disco Biscuits and stare into space for the rest of your life. Everything will be right with the world.
Stage 3: Deep contemplation
After you come to grips with the mind-numbing euphoria that has turned your brain to jelly, you start to become hyper-aware of your tiny place in the universe. Welcome to stage 3! We call it the deep contemplation stage.
During this stage, you’re thinking about things that you’ve never even thought to think about (like why in the world the Kardashians are still famous). You’re considering things you’ve never even thought to consider (like why cats are so much better than dogs).
During stage three, there are so many things to analyze and to understand (we like to pick apart Christopher Nolan’s movie Inception). You are just a small spec on the grand landscape of the universe (yet you can see the truth in the saying “it’s turtles all the way down”). Your mortality is undeniable and death will eventually be your fate (this is just true so we’ve got nothing smart to say about it). You start to become overwhelmed by these far out thoughts. You find yourself engaging with your friends in deep discussions about the infinite fabric of the universe and the very nature of reality. You are a genius. Everyone knows that.
Stage 4: Paranoia
After a round of deep thoughts in stage three, you start to feel decidedly anxious. It’s time for stage four to kick you in the teeth.
During stage four, it’s time to peel yourself off the couch and venture outside (we know, it’s a big place, man or woman up) in search of supplies. But not just any supplies. We’re not talking about bread and water here. We’re talking about sugary snacks and chips. We never have a list, but we always seem to end up with the same thing: Caramel Bugles, Funions, Blow Pops, and Mountain Dew. You haven’t lived until you’ve downed a bowl of Bugles and Funions drenched in Mountain Dew like some sort of unholy breakfast cereal. Trust us, it’s an experience. What are the Blow Pops for? Well, one, they’re just a damn lot of fun. And, two, they take your mind off the bowl of goo you just devoured like it was Lucky Charms. Okay, wait, we’re getting off track (lack of focus is a sub-stage of “what the eff just happened”). Back to stage four.
During your quest for refined sugars and salt, everyone—and we mean everyone—is suddenly out to get you. And to make things worse, everyone—and we mean everyone—is a cop. That ninety-year-old woman hobbling across the street in front of you? Yep, she’s an undercover DEA agent. That eight-year-old with the too-big backpack and the Poekmon hat turned backward? CIA. The baby being breastfed by its mother on the park bench? Mossad assassin. Oh, and that guy in the aviator sunglasses and suit coat with the cut-short hairdo, he’s probably FBI, right? Wrong! He’s an alien from Alpha Centauri. But that’s a discussion for another stage.
As you’re driving to the store, you hear sirens and immediately you know the popo are coming for you. You’re convinced that the ninety-year-old woman, the eight-year-old kid, and the baby at its mother’s breast are going to leap into action, wrestle you to the ground, and lock you away in a dark dungeon for the rest of your life. And yes, dungeons do exist. We’re writing this article from one right now. Much to your surprise, though, the sirens are just part of the background on your rap CD. It’s then that you realize you hate rap (and for good reason). And your car doesn’t even have a CD player. Wait a minute, this isn’t even your car!
When you finally arrive at the store (after returning the car you evidently stole), you’re like a kid in a candy store (which, I guess, at this point, you literally would be). Every aisle holds new wonders and you’re soon piling tons of snacks onto the counter, all the while thinking to yourself (and sometimes out loud), “This guy knows I’m fucked up. Don’t make eye contact. Just give him your money and get the hell out. $329.76? For three bags of Funions, an extra-large bag of Caramel Bugles, ten watermelon Blow Pops, a 2-liter of Mountain Dew Code Red, and a 2-liter of regular Mountain Dew? That sounds about right. Yes! I made it out without getting caught. Squirrel!”
As with the trip to the store, the trip home is filled with conspiracies and officers and agents of every conceivable law-enforcement agency on the planet…and they’re all out to get you. During stage four, the world is a very scary place, and you just want to get back to your couch and your Disco Biscuits album.
Stage 5: The munchies
When you finally make it back to your house…well, let’s face it, the car. You are suddenly so insatiably famished you feel like you could eat an elephant (which would probably be healthier than the stuff you bought at the gas station). You start indiscriminately ripping open bags of Cheetos and Sour Straws, mixing them together, and stuffing your face. Mmmm, sweet and cheesy!
Your body has somehow transmogrified into a garbage disposal that refuses to hold anything inside. No amount food and drink could ever silence your stomach’s cry to be filled. More spicy pickles and whipped cream please. So, you just keep stuffing it all in until there is nothing left to cram into your facehole.
Oh, wait, you’re out of supplies? Damn the supplies! They never mattered anyway. You beeline for the fridge, empty its contents into the sink, and eat it all with a large soup spoon. When the fridge is empty (Does anyone know why we always go to the fridge first? That’s one of those things to ponder in stage three.), you turn to the cupboards. You assemble a bizarre peanut butter, fluff, popcorn sandwich and eat it without care. Everything is so delicious you wonder how the whole world isn’t obese. Then you remember that a large portion is. Bummer!
Stage 6: Repeat all of the above
Now that you’ve stuffed your face like a little ripened piglet, it’s obviously time to repeat the whole process over again. One trip through the stages of being high is never enough. Everyone knows that. It would almost be a crime not to have another go.
Where there is weed, there is a way. So, you pack a few more bowls to share amongst your friends and start the whole process all over again. Your friends promise to Venmo you tomorrow. You know they won’t. That’s okay. You like to share. Weed brings people together. Once again, everything is right with the world and you are a simple vessel of happiness.
Stage 7: Fading
After a long day of being high, continuously smoking, eating, and basically doing nothing valuable with your waking hours, you start to get extremely sleepy. All of the life has been drained out of you. Though you probably didn’t do much in the way of physical activity, that means very little where coming down off a high is concerned. Your body is so worn out you may as well have run a marathon. Despite the fatigue, you feel content and happy. You had a great day with your friends and your beloved bong. Today was all about the chill. Tomorrow will be more productive. You’re cool with that. You’re great with that. Tomorrow will be more productive…unless you decide to skip work and get high again. You’d be cool with that too! Then, as your thoughts wind down toward nothingness, you crawl into bed, probably without brushing your teeth, and pass the fuck out.