Kill all the Pot Advocates! And some stuff about food.

Okay, I'm being facetious. But, still. I'm getting really, really sick of so-called pot advocates like George Michael trumping up what a great thing dope is. To me, they epitomize everything that's wrong with your standard slacker.

Hey, I smoke dope and I'm not ashamed of it, but I'm under NO illusions about its downfalls. I think it IS addictive. I think it DOES diminish motivation in most people. I think it DOES make you sound like a twit half the time. Let's call a spade a spade, all right? Jesus.

I'd like to have veto powers over who gets to advocate pot use. George Michael? Not in this lifetime, bub. Dude's sitting there yammering on like your typical stoner. Know who finds stoners amusing? STONERS. Other advocates in the running: Morgan Freeman? Thumbs up. Ben Harper? Absolutely. They're guys who don't sell it as being the solution to world peace. They don't think it's a universally good idea to smoke dope. In fact, they dissuade the average person from hunkering down with a bong and a big bowl of Cheetohs.

I wish I could smoke dope 24/7. I can't. Never will be able to. I know for a fact it would have negative effects not only on my productivity but my health. There are these "new studies" that claim smoking dope's not linked to lung cancer. I can tell you my lungs don't approve of dope in the least. I think it's a crock. If smoking dope doesn't cause lung cancer, then I'm the fucking tooth fairy, all right? And I don't give a shit what scientist is trying to sell that notion. Sure, having a toke here, or there, isn't going to cause it, but if you're the Doobie Brother equivalent to a pack-a-day habit, some kinda chronic smoker, over a couple decades, then, yeah, I bet you're getting in line for a chemo round, all right? Facts are subjective, pallies, and I suspect that you can skew the tests any which way you want. Let's aim for reality though.

Sigh. Pot smoking has the same problem as the Democratic party: The trouble is its supporters. They're rabid. They don't understand compromise, and they sure as hell don't understand selling ideas. The people who are mid-ground are too disinterested in the fight to bother getting involved.

Aye-yay-yay. The trouble with freedom of speech is you don't get to choose who's doing the talking, you know what I'm saying?

Ah, well. Personally, I've reduced the amount of dope in my life, but I doubt I'll ever oust it. Creatively, it's way too advantageous to lose. The trouble is finding the balance. That's the monkey on my back. Balance. But that's always the case in my life, and always has been. I used to have this sign on my wall: "One day, I'm absolutely this way. The next day, I'm not." Too true.

In other news:

My dad's not bad enough to be an in-patient at the hospital. He's going in twice a day for an antibiotic administrated by IV. He needs to work hard on his diet. He needs profound changes, otherwise he's going to have higher prices to pay than the inconvenience he's facing now. I'm half-glad, half-disappointed that it's not acute enough to force a hospitalization. I don't know if he's going to learn how important it is that he does profound life changes right now.

Me, I'm continuing to try to make changes, but it's hard to get off of food in an emotional capacity when you're single or stressed. And I'm both. I'm trying to focus, but it's certainly hard. Today, I'm taking mixed greens, a tomato, and a bunch of roasted chicken into work. I'll make my own dressing (walnut oil, champagne vinegar, and herbes de Provence mustard -- awesome) and hopefully I can get into the habit of doing this more than the once a week I've been doing it. It'd be great if I had a monster salad each lunch. That seems akin to the Holy Grail, like never gonna happen, but it's a goal. I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...

I need to drill it into my head: I'm in a ridiculously high-risk group for cancer (mother died of it, a non-drinker, non-smoker, healthy eater, healthy exerciser), diabetes (look at dad) and heart disease (ditto). Throw into that the risk of brain aneurysms, and suddenly I'm looking like I need to really get some focus on this food thing -- even more than I've already had. It's all ignorance.

Tell ya one thing: Dope ain't no good for the diet. Who gets the munchies and decides that carrots are a great idea, huh? Dope's like being pregnant: EVERYTHING sounds tasty! Bad, bad.

Ah, well. Lookie. I have a job to go to. No bus for me today -- motherfuckers made me wait an hour yesterday, and I was this close to killing the next transit guy in my path. Fuck it. I'll ride my scooter, torrents of rain be damned.