I’d like to start this week’s column by apologizing. Today is tuesday which means that I am a full 24 hours late to my own party but I have a good reason; I was stoned to the bone in New Orleans for a bachelor party.
After a bumpy landing courtesy of Spirit airlines, two ubers and a couple hundred dollars spent on frozen drinks my crew was looking as battered as Bourbon street after a friday night. I planned ahead for the inevitable hangover and packed a large supply of THC pills from Level Blends. Each 25 milligram capsule dissolves easily under your tongue and when the euphoric effects finally took hold of me I couldn’t have picked a better city to be in. As I wondered around the cobblestone streets littered with cigarette butts, cups, and broken dreams I remembered someone from the night before telling me about a beignet. Being from California means that I have come across exactly zero of those magical pastries but all that changed after a quick scan of my google map. I bought myself a medium sized bag of the sugary pillows and sat down next to the Mississippi river to get the full experience.
After devouring the entire bag I was stoned, full, and covered in powered sugar. My life in Costa Mesa was a faint memory as I thought about which parish I was going to call home. As the sun set I found a charming mid century loft in the french quarter that came with a newly renovated kitchen, balcony views, and three ghosts but I don’t think they took my application seriously so it looks like Orange County gets to keep its favorite stoner for awhile longer.
Next time you find yourself on the bayou grab a beignet and a place to sit… just make sure you don’t mention football, it’s a sore subject.