I Probably Should’ve Written This Before the Willie Juice

OK, y’all. I screwed up tonight.

Normally, I try to get my blog written before I take my Willie Juice.

Tonight, I forgot.

It is currently 10:43 p.m., I have already taken it, and I am feeling a little… lightheaded.

We’re gonna call it lightheaded because that sounds much classier than stoned on Willie Nelson’s juice while trying to write a blog.

So tonight, you’re getting what you’re getting.

And honestly, I couldn’t think of a better time to give y’all my official Willie Juice review than while I am currently on the Willie Juice.

This feels like journalism.

I’ve only been taking it for four or five nights, and if you’ve been around here for any length of time, you already know marijuana and I have never been friends.

I hate it.

I hate being high. I hate the smell. I hate the way it makes me feel. And I swear to God I can smell somebody smoking weed from approximately three counties away.

My nose immediately goes, “Somebody’s smoking marijuana.”

Welton could probably blindfold me, put me in the trunk of a car, drive me across Houston, and I could tell him exactly when we passed somebody smoking a joint.

It is a gift I never asked for.

But I have this lovely little sleeping problem where apparently my brain thinks 1:00 a.m. is an excellent time to start reviewing every decision I’ve made since 1987.

So when I heard about Willie’s little concoction, naturally I had to investigate.

And y’all…

I LIKE IT.

There. I said it.

Willie Nelson has somehow managed to do what nobody else has been able to do: get me high without pissing me off about it.

Now, there are some side effects.

First of all, THE HUNGER.

Jesus Christ.

Why can’t somebody invent THC that makes you sleepy and makes you think food is disgusting?

Because around 11:00 p.m., I suddenly become a raccoon.

I’m standing in the kitchen opening cabinets, looking in the refrigerator, digging through drawers…

Do we have cookies?

Why don’t we have cookies?

Who ate the cookies?

Would peanut butter taste good on a Ritz cracker?

What about cheese?

Suddenly I’m Guy Fieri doing a midnight episode of Diners, Drive-Ins and Shit I Found in My Pantry.

This is NOT helpful.

Then there’s the cottonmouth.

Dear God.

From the time I take Willie Juice until the time I go to sleep, I feel like I drink approximately 47 gallons of Diet Dr Pepper.

My mouth feels like I have been wandering through the Sahara Desert barefoot for six business days.

But then…

The sleepy part kicks in.

And THAT is why Willie and I are currently in a relationship.

I only take HALF a dose, y’all.

HALF.

I don’t know what happens on a full dose, and we are not finding out.

I have no desire to wake up in Willie Nelson’s tour bus wearing a bandana and asking somebody where my horse is.

Half is plenty.

I’ve tried THC gummies before, and those damn things practically put me into a medically induced coma. I’d take one at night and wake up sometime around Thursday.

This is different.

I don’t get that super-intense stoned feeling. My body just starts feeling relaxed and kind of numb, and eventually my brain finally shuts the hell up.

And here’s something else I wasn’t expecting.

I have terrible pain on the left side of my neck, shoulder and back. I have tried ALL THE THINGS.

Medicine.

Steroid shots.

Injections.

Botox.

Probably some other shit I’ve forgotten because, once again, I am currently on Willie Juice.

At night I usually flip and flop around like a bass that just got thrown onto the dock trying to find one position where my damn shoulder doesn’t hurt.

But after I drink this stuff, my whole body gets this relaxed, slightly numb feeling and I just… don’t pay as much attention to it.

Is the pain gone?

I don’t know.

Do I care?

Apparently not.

And frankly, at 10:43 at night, that works for me.

So my official review after four or five nights is:

I like Willie Juice.

I do.

I don’t like the hunger.

I don’t like feeling like my tongue has been rolled in sand.

But I DO like sleeping.

And apparently I am willing to become a dehydrated midnight raccoon in exchange for eight hours of sleep.

Several of y’all have told me there are other versions out there that are just as good—or better—and cheaper, so maybe I’ll try another one next.

Hell, maybe I’ll go buy one this weekend.

At this point I’m apparently becoming a THC beverage critic.

“Hello, I’m Tammy Whitley, and welcome back to Stoned or Not Stoned. Tonight we’ll be pairing our THC beverage with Diet Dr Pepper and whatever the hell I can find in the pantry.”

I’ve also heard there may be changes coming in November that could affect whether this particular stuff can still be sold.

So depending on what happens, I may need to stock up.

And if y’all see me crossing state lines in a trench coat with 47 bottles of Willie Juice strapped to my body…

Mind your business.

Anyway, that is all I’ve got tonight because I can literally feel my remaining brain cells clocking out one by one.

NOTE TO SELF: WRITE THE DAMN BLOG BEFORE YOU DRINK THE WILLIE JUICE.

Goodnight, y’all.

I’ll try to be a more responsible journalist tomorrow. 😂