POL Writer Hospitalized After Marijuana Related Incident

One of our staff writers was briefly  hospitalized earlier today after suffering freakish burns in a marijuana related incident.

Having not smoked marijuana in over 14 years our writer was totally unprepared for the modern ‘medical marijuana’ readily available today.

'Death Star' is not your grandfather's marijuana. This stavia, indigo blend is what medical marijuana is all about
‘Death Star’ is not your grandfather’s marijuana. This stavia, indigo blend is what medical marijuana is all about

When he got home from work this morning to his overly dramatic, menstruating, 15 year old daughter’s emotional tirade about what Jenny told Bryce and blah, blah, blah he had enough.

Remembering the bag of koosh and marijuana pipe his mechanic friend left behind this past weekend while working on his truck he decided to partake.

Just a couple tokes, a little to help relax. Something to soothe him into sleep after a long night of work and years of playing the roles of both Mom and Dad to that sweet little girl turned melodramatic young lady still slamming doors downstairs. He deserved it he reasoned to himself.

Feeling thoroughly like crap, he grabbed the bag of ‘Death Star’ like a life preserver and attempted to float away while sitting upon his throne having his morning constitutional. That’s when he learned about modern marijuana.

As the sparkling green buds transformed into a clear white ash, and this herb of the Gods released it’s earthy smoke, our writer was initially surprised by the smooth, mellow ginger like flavors. Then it hit him.

In an instant this euphoric relief filled his entire body. The stresses of the night disappeared instantly. The doors still slamming downstairs faded into a soothing distant bass. His mind went clear, no stresses, no worries, no thoughts of everything that needed done competing in his mind for immediate attention. Ahhhh…. it was so much better than he had hoped.

Consumed by this immediate relief our dear writer simply melted right there. Still on his throne where he’d been making his deposit, with his pants around his ankles, and the white hot glowing pipe in his hands he slumped back against the tank and closed his eyes. In an instant he was asleep.

Seconds later he was awakened by his own scream as he flew to his feet. The pipe, that had just delivered him such pleasure, now searing his flesh in the very sensitive area to which it had fallen.

The ER doctor offered our friend some vicodin or percocet to relieve the pain after applying some salve and bandaging his member, but our friend, the writer, politely declined mellowly saying, “Nah dude. I’m gooood”