Pineapple Express; courtesy of Sony Pictures

Greetings and salutations* freaks and geeks …

My shrink and me have this funny game. Donnie, my therapist* keeps leaving urgent voicemails telling me I’m a danger to myself after I told him I smoked a crucifix joint laced with pharmaceutical peyote at Judd Apatow’s Easter Party. I keep ignoring him. I’m not in denial, I mean I never should have told my shrink, but I did make a panicked call to his service Sunday night while cooling my heels in the waiting room at Cedars Sinai with what (at the time) seemed like a giant Paleozoic horn regally jutting from my forehead. 

Maybe I overreacted, the swelling went down, everything’s cool now but why’s he gotta keep bringing up the past? This is Hollywood. Psychotic meltdowns are part of the game. I was tripping but we can get over this. Just look at Owen Wilson or Will Arnett. Arnett’s lost it and he still gets work. MRF, on the other hand, has no reason for shame. I’m not Shiva, the God of Death* like Donnie said I said I was. I was merely quoting a line from Michael Clayton during one of my daily rants to my therapist while attending a party where the keynote speaker happened to be a famous trifurcated marijuana cigarette.

So there, I got star struck okay, I smoked too much, I made a few veiled threats, big deal. You can’t “not shake the hand” of a soon-to-be-legendary comedy prop from the upcoming Judd Apatow movie, Pineapple Express without feeling the puff-puff-give just a little. That’s like not getting tanked on the set of Animal House.  And meeting the wonder joint in person was a thrill, really. It was like slapping skin with a young Dennis Hopper, who’s actual hand sweat (legend has it), got Karen Black high on the set of Easy Rider every single take.  But that’s a different story.

Pineapple Express

courtesy of Sony Pictures

Pineapple Express, about two stoners who use the fact they’re being hunted by the mob as inspiration to finally get their shit together, won’t come out until summer so you heads don’t know anything about “crucifix-joints” yet, but trust me Big Lebowski Duderinos, this stoners-on-the-run-from-the-mob action flick is the joint your grandchildren will be smoking* for years. 

It’s that good but since I’ve been Gong Show-ed since Easter, I forgot Sony pushed it back to summer. When my editors come calling, I’m straight blaming those beatnik actors (Seth Rogan and James Franco) the stars of Express who rolled me that severe Pineapple Express/Red Espresso Snowflake doobie before the screening. It was like god’s vagina*. They kept saying MRF, you’ll want to bathe in it, live in it, be with it, shove it up your nose, breathe it every day …* that’s fine for actors but don’t those prima donnas know I have to write sensible, deeply heartfelt prose for you people? 

Give Apatow Back His Wonder Joints
The moment I blew off today’s deadline cruising down Mulholland high as Terry Southern on the set of The Magic Christian, I finally got it, an epiphany on the meaning of life! I’ve heard of these, James Cameron used to get them up here all the time so I pull over to call Donnie, and he answers, “Dude … give Apatow back his wonder joints. You woke up my kids again asshole.” Click. That ladies and gentlemen, is why I love my therapist, for his clear head in turbulent times. I need to get it together, I mean, who am I? Just in case you think I’m a total flake this week, I’m including a few more immediate hits from a hybrid blend of celluloid sativa for all you rockers, sickos and sadistic freaks still jonesin’ for an ass load of immediate cinematic gratification. Who’s your daddy now?

But first, have you ever smoked a cross joint? It’s like the apex, the vortex of joint engineering. It’s rumored M.M. O’Shaughnessy, the guy who designed the Golden Gate Bridge, designed the first one. What you do is you light all three ends at the same time, and then the smoke converges creating a trifecta of joint smoking power. Okay, you’re going to light these two ends, while I light this end. Are you ready? Blast off. Wait, no it’s okay to cough, it makes you ten times more higher ...* Where are you going, let’s smoke this thing, c’mon I can’t light it on my own, I have to drive. Shit … Until next week, stay higher than balls America, be bad and get into trouble baby…*


courtesy of Sony Pictures



Volume 57 Footnotes
•    “Greetings and salutations.” – Heathers (1991): Christian Slater doing his best Nicholson impersonation to a monacle-lovin’ Winona Ryder. 
•    “You call your analyst Donnie? I call mine Dr. Chomsky.” – Annie Hall (1977): Alvie Singer mercilessly browbeats Annie into pot addiction.
•    “I am Shiva, the God of Death.” – Michael Clayton (2007): Tom Wilkinson goes off meds and through the looking glass in this modern classic.
•    “This is the joint your grandchildren will be smoking.” – Pineapple Express (2008): Burner looks through a purple haze and into the future.
•    “It smells like god’s vagina. I want to bathe in it, live in it, be with it, shove it up my nose and breathe it every day.” – Pineapple Express (2008): Seth Rogen gets a taste of the nectar.
•    “Have you ever smoked a cross joint? ... It makes you ten times more higher.” – Pineapple Express (2008): Doobage Science 101-izzle
•    “Let’s get into trouble baby.” – Tapeheads (1988): Soul Train host Don Cornelius (as Hollywood Producer Mo Fuzz) breaks it down to upstart filmmakers Tim Robbins and John Cusack.