Placebo Effects


I was in a conversation with some marijuana nerds the other day, and one of them talked about how there aren’t really any pure sativa or pure indica strains anymore. It’s all hybrids, and the differences people feel between them is mostly placebo effect.

I do feel like I can sense the differences between strains, but how could I ever know if it’s just my brain tricking itself into thinking that I have more of an active, party high, or more of a sleepy, couch-lock high?

Obviously, the placebo effect is an important factor with which developers of pharmaceuticals ought to concern themselves. Outside of contexts like that, though, perhaps it doesn’t matter so much. If hearing a description of the nice head high that Golden Goat is supposed to induce makes one interpret one’s experience as a head high, then that’s great.

When I made a batch of my own cannalube, I didn’t know how it would affect me. No-one told me about what putting marijuana-infused coconut oil on my genitals would feel like. The sensation was pretty fantastic. It felt like my clit got engorged more quickly than usual. I didn’t come any faster than usual, perhaps, but it was an especially powerful orgasm when I got there. The first time I used it, I was really trying to think about how it affected my experience because I was writing a recipe and review for a potential writing job. I have used it many times since, and it always improves the experience for me, but sometimes I think about whether my wanting it to work is what makes it work.

But ultimately, I don’t care. My subjective experience is what matters when it comes to sex. The words my sex partners use to describe what they want to do to me can get me raring to go, or completely turn me off, even if they are describing the exact same thing. Words matter. Desires matter. Feelings matter. That they are not tangible does not make them less valid and impactful.



I have had many adventures. I know much about various categories. I have writing skills. And yet, when I sit down to write this blog, I feel blocked. What should I write about first? Do I have any important points to make? Should I just tell titillating stories? What do people want to read?

The answer I’ve landed on for that last question is, why do I care? I should write what I want to write, about what I find interesting, and if there is an audience for that, great! If there isn’t… well, then also great! If no one is paying attention, I can dick around and have no one to answer to.

So, I’m back. I’m going to write some things. We’ll see where it goes.

In Every Pot


It’s been almost a week since my last post because my roommates and I moved this past weekend!

We are kinky perverts, and so our house is full of things like rope, handcuffs, dildos, etc. Plus the heavy, sturdy bondage furniture my roommate made. Which is a bit of a bitch to move.

We’re also two blocks away from an elementary school and a church. Which has got me wondering: how many sex toys are hidden (or proudly displayed!) in the houses in this neighborhood? And did we just bring up the amount per capita by moving in?

The Onion is Eerily Like Real Life Sometimes…


Orgy A Logistical Nightmare from The Onion cracked me up! I have a journal from my early college years that starts with my plans for an orgy. And it kinda looks like the close-up image of the page in that article! My experiences planning orgies, though, have not been as nightmare-ish as the protagonist in their story. I could probably offer him some useful advice. I’m working on a presentation for my friend’s Denver Sex Talks in November about planning an orgy, actually.

My main point, I think, is going to be that you can’t make an orgy happen. You can only facilitate and arrange for a physically and socially safe space in which an orgy can possibly take place. And the most important part of doing that is emphasizing consent and accountability. If everyone feels safe enough to say ‘no’, they will be more likely to say ‘yes!’ to engaging in group sexy times!

It’s my half-birthday!


Yes, that’s right, I was born on 4/20. Maybe you don’t believe me. Maybe I made it up because I’m starting a pot blog. Or maybe I was destined by birth to be passionate about cannabis. Did you think of that?

4/20/85. Which means that I am 29 1/2 today. There are six months left of my twenties. What did I do with them?

Well, quite a lot, it turns out, she says upon reflection. I mean, technically, I was only 19 when organized my first orgy, but it just goes up from there.