Thursday, August 14, 2008


At 4:20 pm last Sunday, I saw "Pineapple Express."

I am not a stoner. The last time I smoked anything even remotely mind-altering, I got really silly for a moment, embarrassed the friend I was with, and then fell asleep. Afterwards, he said, "Remind me never to let you smoke weed again."

One time, when I was a freshman in college in Berkeley, I went with some folks from my dorm to see the Grateful Dead. I lived in the Bay Area - it's a rite of passage there (or, it was while Jerry was alive, anyway). We were all sitting in the nosebleeds at the Oakland Coliseum, and passing a joint around. I smoked some, and dozed off. I could hear one of my floormates, Jack, through the haze of my sleepiness: "Duuude, check out Mo. She's really getting into it!"

So yea, pot really isn't my thing.

"Pineapple Express," though, is my thing. Over the last couple of days, I've discovered that most of my friends who have seen it didn't like it, and that those who haven't seen it have only heard bad things about it. But I love it. I've seen it a couple times again already. I liked it better than "Tropic Thunder." Really, I did! I think it's ridiculous, sweet, obnoxious, and crawls under your skin hilarious. And if you're scared to see it, fine. But it made me really happy during an insanely stressful week, and my summer fun film award goes to "Pineapple Express."