Well, it’s that time of year again—the one where the national myth of “gratitude” is paraded around, wrapped in a suffocating blanket of mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, and a grotesquely overcooked turkey. And what better way to ease the tension of a family gathering where political discussions are inevitable and your cousin is too damn loud than with a proper smoke? Yes, folks, Thanksgiving needs weed—no question.
The pilgrims were pioneers, right? Brave, bold, and undoubtedly in need of something to take the edge off. While the history books aren’t exactly clear about whether they were puffing on anything owonderful in their pipes, it’s not a stretch to imagine that they probably knew something about the benefits of a good toke. And if they didn’t, then it’s high time we picked up their slack.
You see, Thanksgiving is a time when our neurotic tendencies are tested. You’ve got Uncle Jack, the conspiracy theorist, spitting nonsense about global elites controlling the weather, while Aunt Michele’s drones on about her latest facial cream made of Chinese baby foreskins. Then there’s the inevitable phone call from the in-laws, where half the conversation is an agonizing replay of their complaints about every little thing you’ve done in your life. This is the perfect storm of stress. So, what do you do?
You roll a joint.
No, it’s not a solution, it’s an essential act of self-preservation. A small puff here and there transforms the room. Suddenly, Aunt Michele’s spiraling rant about organic facials is just a white noise hum in the background. Uncle Jack’s latest rant about secret government weather control devices seems absurd rather than terrifying. And that dry turkey? Well, who cares if it’s dry when your mind is soaring, your limbs are relaxed, and the world is a bit more tolerable.
Let’s not kid ourselves: weed doesn’t just elevate the experience, it transforms it. Sure, you can play the “good host” and force down another glass of stale wine or pretend the mashed potatoes are not just a soggy, carb-laden mess, but that’s not living. The cannabis community understands what the rest of you don’t: the true essence of Thanksgiving is not in the food or the forced interactions—it’s in the release, the relaxation, the moment when you realize that all this madness is temporary.
But there’s more to it than that. Weed is a hallucinogen in the truest sense—it takes the mundane and elevates it to the cosmic. Suddenly, every bite of food tastes like a gift from the heavens, and the once irritating “family” becomes a curious spectacle of human comedy. You’ll see them for what they really are: not the ridiculous creatures you’ve always imagined them to be, but a collection of lost souls, just like yourself, desperately clinging to a sense of normalcy.
So, this Thanksgiving, don’t fall for the charade. Don’t let the turkey or the endless Macy’s day parade fool you into thinking this is all somehow real. Smoke that joint. Let the reality you’ve known slip away, if only for a few hours. And when you return, bleary-eyed and satisfied, from your brief journey into the ether, you’ll realize that maybe, just maybe, you’ve found something that transcends the absurdity of it all.
Happy Thanksgiving, friends. May your smoke be strong and your family dysfunction be…manageable.
Keep it weird,
