Uh, so there was this tragi-comic incident involving me and some marijuana...
See, I don't use it, because it fucks me up. And not in a good way. I'm allergic to it or something. Like, the last time, I had one hit, and I apparently watched "Charlie's Angels" thinking that it was some sort of movie about centipedes and torture. Oh, and then I accidentally drowned, and wandered into the middle of a highway, and my friends tried to murder me psychically. All from the comfort of a nice cozy living room in Seattle. Right. So I don't smoke weed anymore. Especially not west coast weed.
Anyway... Seeing as I'm pregnant, and I have cravings for yummy, yummy foods, I spotted this delicious-looking cookie one day in my apartment building... Sometimes the landlady puts doughnuts and coffee in the lobby for tenants, and even though these cookies were on a table on the fourth floor, I figured she must be responsible. And DAMN but they looked good.......... I chose the one with the most chocolate chips.
Approximately an hour and a half later, I was in what people kept referring to as an "emergency room," wherein a tiny little black child was trying to kill me, and some people were playing basketball I think. I may have hurled on somebody; I'm really not sure. Approximately an hour after that, my fiancé's father (a retired social worker), was showing me scary pictures of natives in some National Geographic-like magazine, and asking if they frightened me. Heh; SOOO fun to pick on the stoned people who can't handle being stoned, huh???
Somewhere in all of that, I got stuck in some curtains, got lost in a drawer, flushed myself down the toilet, and was told by a doctor that I'd ingested some THC along with my nice chocolate cookie. I'd been wondering why the cookie tasted so nasty. The doctor also informed me that the baby and I would most likely be fine within 24 hours. My midwife laughed her ass off at me and sort of yelled at me for giving in to chocolate cravings. Cripes. Hey, I gave up drinking, smoking, and sleeping with strange men other than my fiancé -- gotta keep my chocolate and Lynchfilms.
ANYWAY...
So this is a stoned movie review of the movie I saw the next day, "Star Trek: Nemesis."
I've never really been a Star Trek fan. I think I'd seen an entire four episodes, in my entire life, before going to see this movie.
My cumulative knowledge about Star Trek, before this movie: 1.) There's a bald dude who's apparently sort of in charge of a lot of stuff sometimes, 2.) The name of the creepy, boring dude with the green skin is "Data." I think that was it.
Okay, okay, so "--Nemesis..."
Right.
The sour gummy bears were badass.
So was the approximately ten pounds of popcorn I ingested.
DAMN, food is good.
I wouldn't shut up, all night, about Ramulen Noodles. I'm not sure what that means exactly, but it's got a nice ring to it.
I think something bad happened to that green dude, Data. It was pretty sad.
I think a lot of stuff blew up, too. That was badass. Stuff is cool when it blows up.
So, all in all, it was a pretty good movie. Especially the gummy bears. Red ones are particularly tasty.
(My fiancé, looking over my shoulder: "He's NOT green.")
(Yes he is...)
Yeah, so that's the movie: everything I can remember of it anyway.
I'm feeling a lot better now. A slight aversion to cookies, but you know... I have noticed that I killed off a couple of brain cells, mostly those that aid in vocabulary. As in, this afternoon, while speaking of Scandinavian languages, I stated that I was specifically speaking of several languages including but not limited to Norwayish. Uh... right.
Happy belated holidays, kids.
[A coupla notes... Due to some bizarre personal problems, Helena regrettably does not have a November article for EchoSiberia. EchoSiberia staff and fans are just going to have to forgive her. ~H.T.*]