Step one is getting a letter from your doctor. Step two is actually going to a dispensary and buying medical marijuana. Admittedly, I was a bit nervous just walking in the door, but as it turns out, the employees were very nice. I got to chat a bit with the guy guarding the door while some unknown entity verified my letter behind what was probably a bullet-proof one-way mirror.

Once the entity granted me safe passage into the back room, I was faced with more strains of marijuana than I thought could possibly exist. Having no idea where to start, I gave up trying to act cool and admitted to the clerk that I was lost. He was very nice, asked me what I was looking for, then brought out some samples for me to look at. First we looked at the ones best for nausea. He turned on a lighted magnifying glass and invited me to examine the samples. After admitting that I had no idea what I was doing, he explained what to look for under the glass and what to smell for. It was fairly random, and quite possibly based on the name, but I picked one that didn't smell horrible. We repeated the process with the ones best for pain, with me pretending I could smell the difference.

After further discussing my situation, I also picked out some ready-made edibles - pretzels and animal crackers. If I can barely sit up, eating might be easier for me than smoking. However, the doctor said I'd get the best result from smoking. Which brings me to the final item on my list.

I consulted with friends who had more interesting times in high school and college to determine that I should get a bong with a diffuser. Unfortunately, the dispensary only sold pipes and paper, necessitating a trip to Venice Beach over the weekend.

After being buzzed out of the two separate exit doors, I found myself on the sidewalk holding a bag full of pot. So what's the first thing I see? An unmarked police cruiser parked directly in front of me. Of course. I tried to not look so obviously guilty, but my nonchalant walk needs some practice. Miraculously, I made it back to the car unscathed.

Venice Beach is full of fine, upstanding establishments selling water pipes, bubblers, and all sorts of other "tobacco" paraphernalia. With the help of a trusted, and more experienced friend, I acquired a bubbler. The theory was that it would cool off and smooth out the smoke for my unaccustomed lungs. The only problem was that the thing was butt ugly.
Who wants to stare at something labelled "ILL-G" when they feel violently ill? Not to mention the stem looks like a glass penis. This clearly is unacceptable, so after some discussion with the ever-lovely Simone, I decided to paint it.

Not my best camera work, but you can clearly see that it's a unicorn jumping over a rainbow in space. More importantly, you'll note that the stars and the unicorn's horn are covered in glitter. But not just any glitter, glow in the dark glitter! Clearly I doubled the resale value of this instance of bubbler.