MARIJUANA OVERDOSE

Oct 16, 2016

I am sure the four folks that read my blogs (by accident) are well versed with the #1 killer of human beings, Marijuana. If not, let me explain. Marijuana is a plant, is grown in HELL and contains chemicals that MAKE YOU WANT TO DIE. It is illegally and legally grown and consumed by roughly 103% of all teenagers around the world. Now that you are an expert, let’s talk about my overdose at the Coachella music festival, the single worst day of my life.

Let me begin by stating that I do not do drugs. I am not against drugs, but simply too much of a pansy to try them because I think I will die under a bridge or wake up with a missing spleen. However, I have experimented with Vodka and once smoked Marlboro Reds when Joel Darby and I went to prison in Mexico (different story for a different time). Yolo. Grown men. 

Side Note: Pathetically, I didn’t try alcohol until I was 24 years old. Therefore, I didn’t meet any girls until I was 25. You know that loser friend you had in college that didn’t drink? 

Onward…

The first time I experienced this highly deadly narcotic (which kills 89% of all first time users) was in a small and colorful beach town in southern Costa Rica called, well I can’t remember. However, I do remember a bunch of gay cowboys riding horses as our shitty 1967 coach bus arrived in town. We had traveled for about 9 hours from San Jose and covered 30 miles. As the crow flies. 

I was traveling with two girlfriends. Unfortunately, these two  "girlfriends” would: A) not make out with me (another story for another time) and B) roofied me with Marijuana. These broads held me down (my strength was waning) and blew smoke in my face until I was “stoned” as the kids say.  

Let’s fast forward 6 months to Southern California. I found myself at Coachella, a music festival somewhere in California that hosts 800,000 bands and 2 billion people who looked like they robbed Urban Outfitters. And Brad Pitt. Keep reading….

I was staying in a deluxe Hampton Inn RESORT (arguably one of the nicest 5 star hotel chains in the entire world) with four girls. There were two 21-year-old hippies, the hippie coordinator and my friend from LA, Jakie, whose name I purposely misspelled to protect her identity. All four girls were hot as balls. Four to one odds...I lost.  

On Saturday we were getting ready to leave our non-expensive hotel room and head to the music festival. The hippie chicks (who had brought somewhere in the ballpark of $25,000 in every form of marijuana on earth) whipped out a “Medicinal Medical Marijuana Brownie”. It apparently had a warning label. I bet you thirty dollars you can’t guess what happened next?

Exactly, I ATE THE WHOLE F*CKING THING. 

Now, let me remind you this was the third time in my pathetic life I ever tried marijuana.  Also let me inform you this was the only time I had ever tried “edible” marijuana. Bet you can’t guess what happened next…

I remember feeling very relaxed once the toxins started invading my bloodstream as we lounged around the hotel room prior to leaving. Then I remember LOSING MY MIND in the backseat of the car as we drove to the show. The next several hours were to be the worst 8 hours of my entire life.

From what I remember, there were about 200 of us in the backseat of the hybrid car but was told later there was only 3. Regardless, the POT was working.  A lot.

At one point, after staring out the window for what seemed like 4 weeks, I mustered up the courage to say words. I told my friend Jakie that I needed something to “kick me out of this state of overwhelming paranoia and despair”. I needed Vodka, a medical helicopter or a Gun to make it stop.

She gave me Adderall.  

Now, for those of you who don’t know what Adderall is, ask anybody in college or your closest friend who NEVER STOPS BUILDING THINGS. The medical community claims it is an A.D.D medication that can help you focus. I think it is Crack Cocaine soaked in LSD then cooked in METH and topped with Anthrax and Asbestos.  I took it. 

Before we go any further (and closer to my death), let me explain a few things you should never do when you are overdosing on marijuana. 

You should never:

·       Speak

·       Look anyone in the eye

·       Tell your friends how much you loved your dad that died when you were 21

·       Go anywhere in public

·       Be around human beings

·       TAKE ADDERALL

Just about the time we arrived at the festival, the Adderall kicked in full force which allowed me to focus 100% on my completely overwhelming paranoia. As a bonus, the medication intensified the “high” a few thousand fold and increased my blood pressure by infinity.  Things were looking good...

My guess is we entered the venue (a massive polo grounds) around 4 or 5 pm. I walked approximately 18 steps and gently sat down in the grass. And stared at my feet. For the next 8 hours. Suffering heart attacks every two minutes.  

A few things I remember from my 8 hour sit-down were:

·       Brad Pitt staring at me for 4 hours

·       Deciding it wasn’t Brad Pitt staring at me 24 times

·       Telling myself “Marijuana can not kill you” over and over

·       Telling myself “Marijuana combined with Adderall can kill you” over and over

·       Thinking about standing up

·       Being too scared to stand up

·       Losing feeling of my brain

·       Trying to remember to breathe

·       Wondering why all 30,000 festival goers were staring at me

·       Wondering when I would be able to verbally communicate with others

·       Wondering how many other 40 yr olds have died on weed at 18+ music festivals

·       Praying the paramedics would give me a hug

·       Trying yoga breathing exercises to bring my heart rate down to heart attack levels

·       Trying to explain to my friends we were all going to Prison

·       231 consecutive panic attacks

·       The hippie girls looking at me like I was literally the dumbest human being they had ever met

After 5 or 6 hours, my friend finally convinced me to stand up which was terribly dangerous and easily the scariest idea of the last 24 years of my life. I hadn’t felt my legs in hours and figured they were done working for the rest of my life. However, I did finally stand up and decided to walk in the opposite direction of people. And away from Brad Pitt. 

My anonymous friend convinced me we should get a drink, possibly vodka. This, I though was a good idea.  There was one problem…

In order to purchase a drink (and by purchase I mean have her purchase because I was still scared of human beings) I had to go show my ID to the authorities. Two things that don’t mix well are 1) Authorities and 2) Weed overdoses.

Now, I can’t even begin to explain to you how scary this was for me. I had to:

a) Walk up to a table of humans
b) Confidently and effortlessly determine where my ID was
c) Seamlessly pull it out of a pocket without falling down
d) Hand it to a huge security man who wanted to kill me
d) Fight crying the whole time

Thankfully, the effects of the marijuana started to fade after 8 or so hours which was the single greatest feeling in my life. I had missed every single band at the festival. I also now hate Brad Pitt. 

I would like to thank the following people who saved my life that day:

·       My friend Jackie, who now knows how my dad made me sad when I was young

·       The two hippie chicks who never said a word in 3 straight days and introduced me to marijuana food

·       The fashion designer hippie coordinator who brought the hippie chicks and never showered

·       The Hampton Inn maids who we left $5000 worth of marijuana

·       The entire security personnel at Coachella who stared at me for 8 hours but never put me in prison

·       Brad Pitt