Blackberry Kush (April 14, 2015)By Baynard Woods City Paper
10:44 p.m. EDT, April 14, 2015
A friend once described a fancy IPA as tasting like the sweat from the underarms of a horny girl, which made me jealous that it was such a good, thrown-off description of how that beer tasted. This weed has a similar flavor; there is something very hoppy about it. And, like a strong IPA, it hits pretty hard. The few hits I took while trying to make sure I got a good sense of its flavor left me in an up-but-not-anxious state of heightened awareness: I sent about five texts in a row to various colleagues with ideas--which varied in quality--for stories or tweaks to stories. As I kept hitting it, it caused the room to start to thrum. I realized that the BBC is on the radio and I could only hear these really strident rhythms like something has happened in the background and I got up to go turn it off: "Leave their ordeal behind them," the woman with the clipped strident voice that reminded me of EDM music said. "Our ordeal was very hard," said a woman with an accent, perhaps Pakistani, from somewhere the British had colonized. It was a perfect, horrible beat, so I turned it off. I meant to turn on music but I forgot and the sounds of the cars--and then, it is 7:45 p.m.--the occasional absence of cars, becomes a music, a sense that is greatly heightened as two voices, of girls, make melodies as they pass the window. I send another two texts with big ideas for future stories and forgot the sonic world altogether. Then I remembered what I was doing and a bus drove by. Had the bus driven by the moment before, it would not have driven by, in my consciousness. It sounded like the heat just came on. Why would the heat come on. I wanted to get up to turn off the thermostat, but then I looked over at the wiry old dog and he looked cold curled up on the blue blanket. ******** it, if it's cold the heat is on, but it is April. I needed to go for a walk.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lyuyfgILkQw
