Jar Opening, 3.30.2026, 16:11 mst
Tamper-proof ribbon. Otherwise no wafer seal but there might be a different type of seal under the lid. The bud is super spongy and dank with a garlic aroma. The eighth weighed in at 3.68 grams. It looks crystal-y and passes the eye test. Let’s grind.
First or Second Session, 3.31.2026, 17:30
Thunderdome doesn’t seem to be a pen-to-paper strain.
Some bite, some rabbit hole. I walked out and took photos of cacti. I was feeling that warm glow, the magic hour of a good bake. The light is muted because it is cloudy, has been for hours, rained off and on, never heavy. Small cells pop up, drift, morph.
I have not had any vodka yet but I have had some tequila, maybe one good marg’s worth. Some white wine, half a glass? Now a Grolsch.
Not quite baked. The flower had that green taste, the colors green and white. The taste of crystals. Not unpleasant but the last flower I smoked that tasted like this was bag appeal, then this taste, then “eh” for effects.
I burned one of these joints last night before dinner, then another one after dinner and I hardly remember eating. The lid bills this flower as “catastrophic gas” resulting from a Garlic Banger x Candy Cake cross. It must have come on slowly, then all at once. I don’t have days to give away—who does?—and still. There was some vodka involved last night, and some box white wine. I have to say boxed white wine is the strongest drug available at the local supermarket.
I slaughtered myself on box white wine the night of January 6, 2021 and then again the next night, driving back to St. Louis from Tucson with my dog Hugo. We were in Tucumcari on January 6, didn’t even check into the hotel where I had a reservation because a large group (of road crew workers) were partying all around the outside of the only pet friendly room the Best Western ever offered there. A patio room on a peninsular, surrounded. We pivoted to a nearby La Quinta. I remember taking Hugo out to do his business, in the dark cold wind on a night where by day we had taken a major detour through New Mexican silver mine territory because I got off at an exit from which the on-ramp back to I-10 was closed. Lordsburg. It was a long day, The Capitol had been attacked, and it was probably one of the first nights when I lost patience with Hugo, and he with me.
The next night we were in a weird Baymont Inn in Wichita, KS when that scumbag senator from my state was among too many who stood to oppose the certification of the election. Getting sloshed on what was left of the boxed wine, drinking straight from the skin was the right thing to do.
Where was I? The Thunderdome is building like an anvil cloud. The Merlin app is offering some interesting new suggestions. Nashville Warbler? Bushtit? Bushtit would be a new one for me. I’m not confirming it but now I’m on the lookout. Grolsch down.
Third Session, 04.1.2026, 21:00
Had a Mandarin Chemdog…
Then it was…Biskante. But I’d had some tequila and I wanted a nap. Deep into the world of sleep. What felt like a day was no more than an hour, awake into the world anew.
Most recently—at 21:00 or so—now it’s 21:18—I smoked a Thunderdome roach. It was spicy, sharp, biting, mouth-coating. I am taking one Thunderdome on the road, leaving the rest of the jar here. It’s having an effect, and the moment is right. Screen-door weather, whirring of desert insects, a Western Screech-Owl out there somewhere, a little vodka on the rocks, my wife’s father blowing his nose, sounding like my dad. And I’m reading. America’s Best Short Stories 1997. First it was a story by Ha Jin. Now, Robert Stone. We leave tomorrow. It doesn’t get much better than this…
Last Joint in Yukon
Smoked the last of my GDL Thunderdome just now. This evening here 6.2.26 in Yukon, OK, west of OKC. I opened/bought this jar in Tucson (21st & Swan) in March. Never wrote much on it. Smoked a couple Thunderdome bowls this last time in Tucson; it knocked me out. Catastrophic Gas it says on the label. Garlic Banger x Candy Cake. Has some garlic flavor up front, then a menthol coating.
It was really nice outside just now, 20:44, not at all humid. I expect the humidity leaving the desert, heading back toward the midwest, where it has been rainy. I don’t know. Green Dot Labs. I’ll have to try another jar. In March the guy at the dispensary told me clear, “There are no deals on the Green Dot.” This time around there was a buy one get one half off on Wednesday. Thunderdome wasn’t in stock. Trulieve on Grant had only one GDL. Monet, I think. Sporting a conspicuously low THC content, so it wasn’t moving.
There are so many brands in Tucson, and depending on the day, or sometimes in a storewide sale with exceptions you can get just about any brand at 40% off or on BOGO. There is so much good flower that something new and exclusive would have to blow me away. But I don’t live in Tucson; I’m only there a few times a year, if I’m lucky.
If I put pen to paper, even some of what I thought was meh—looking back at my notes—shows out if I smoke it and focus, if I have some early(er) in the day, without smoking it in my shallow nightly pool of alcohol.
Nora is twitching. I barely ever sleep with her, or her with me. A paw, back leg, an ear, her whole head, belly, glute, paws, back leg, never the tail, her whole body, quiver, tremor, peaceful, on the hunt, asleep.
Weeds of Grass 