Friday, October 3, 2014


TGIF, Love Weed Muffins!

Ready to take a toke in Sin City at tomorrow's Hempfest? Head out early for a day of music, comedians, vendors and, obviously, all things cannabis. Quite the party.

Though I won't be able to join you (this time), here's a little teaser to hold you over. And just think, this month's Kush Cup in San Bernardino, California, is RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER. (October 17-19). Put that in your pipes and smoke it.

Vegas strip’s hoppin'
Just in time for Shatterday
Wanna skirp some derg?

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Thursday, October 2, 2014


It's National Poetry Day and I could, for lack of a better term, "wax poetic" on our beautiful, sexy, soulful language. (For those that know how to use it.) I get a twisted kick out of smithing words that (at the very least) make me laugh, cry, and feel. Mostly laugh. Sometimes I just can't even believe my brain, getting all hilarious and cracking myself up. Egocentric? Perhaps. Geishanistas are human too.

As far back as I can remember (actually it was seventh grade with "Sister Wimpy Wart Walk" -- her real name was Winifred, like "The Jungle Book" elephant -- no joke), I was extremely conscious of the importance of crafting the written word. We had NO choice.

Day after day, Sr. WWW prattled on and on that no two sentences in a paragraph should start with the same word. Pretty harsh. She mentioned other stuff too, but even the great and powerful couldn't intervene if you screwed up ... and I'm not talkin' Oz. (Or James Franco, although he would've have convinced her to smoke a bone and shut the f*ck up. Okay, I'll stop.)

Sure as hell's supposedly all fire and brimstone (sorry, I can't stop 'cause, IMO, it's really, really NOT), that sex-starved old penguin would be waddling at breakneck speeds down the aisles, warts and all, to further scream. IN. YOUR. FACE. Crazy bitch. We were twelve.

Somehow it stuck (for the most part), and I pretty much became obsessed with writing from that point on. I felt like it was my secret stash, my mission, my raison d'être. From poetic stream-of-consciousness rants reminiscent of neo-Dada Nam June Paik videos to super-silly songs and nicely structured articles practically begging for a tidy bow on top, I've honed my craft over the years to arrive at this lovely, nonsensical, and ever-so-snide juncture. It's a culmination of all I am. You can imagine my glee -- unrestrained, of course.

Obviously I mangle rules along the way, but a few no-nos in the name of "creative license" is totally acceptable, even thrilling. (To me, anyway.) Isn't the point to express your unique voice? Anyone who's watched GEISHA-MANIA! knows my voice is definitively "distinct," which is being kind. A few of my fave poetic heroes include Maya Angelou, Sylvia Plath, Jack Kerouac, Shel Silverstein, Jim Morrison, Patti Smith (um, have you listened to "Horses"?), and a list of rappers whose "flow" leaves me speechless. And that, my fellow Catholic school refugees, NEVER happens.

Speaking of which, you can just imagine how friggin' proud Sister-from-a-Higher-Mister would be to read my contribution to National Poetry Day. Yup. Rolling in her BIG. FAT. ROSARY-BEADED GRAVE. So without further snark, I bring you a little "afternoon delight." Pun intended.

Weed, best stuff on earth
Twenty-four carat gold blunts
Now who’s trippin’ boo?

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Wednesday, October 1, 2014


STOP THE HEMP PRESSES! Sin City turns Stoner Heaven as Las Vegas Hempfest opens its doors this Saturday, October 4. Wait, wasn't it just Memorial Day? Time flies when you're having a life. (Unless you've been in a complete stupor for four months.) With music, comedians, speakers, vendors, and a whole lotta sweet leaf, the event promises to "light up the town" in more ways than one. Are YOU ready to start chonging the bong?

Why's a Geishanista-with-the-Mostest promoting 420-filled fun? Well, little love [weed] muffins ... it will all become clear -- very, very soon. You'll see. I promise. (And you WON'T be disappointed.) Until then, like Confucius, let me impart this tidbit of stoner wisdom. It's the least I can do. And if you're checking out Hempfest, take a toke for me! Hugs, I mean NUGS!

Chonging the big bong
Puff, puff pass, Vegas Hempfest

Rocky Mountain highs.

PS: And yes, I know Vegas is nowhere near the Rocky Mountains. Duh ... it's called creative license darlings. You so silly.

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