What do you do with Time? For one thing, you can hold it in your hand, put it up to your nose and breathe it into your heart, where it will always live. Yes, live it. As if there were no tomorrow. In the moment—here and now. Time. Look back and look forward. It’s all One, your life running in all directions at once, trailing outward, trailing back. Everything is related, related or not. Time never ends. I’ll always have Woodstock in the palm of my hand, in my heart. Time gave it to me.

Haggis Hatches a Plan I didn’t know I Needed

I was starved and getting hungrier by the second—hadn’t eaten in hours, since lunch the day before. Or was it the day before that? Or afterwards? Sven had been MIA for half the night. He’d disappeared up the hill to our home away from home. He was supposed to have brought back food for all of us, but I guessed he’d passed out in the Plumber’s Helper. It was about this time, around seven in the morning, after the Paul Butterfield Blue’s Band was finishing their set, that he came stumbling down the hill, satchel slung over one shoulder. Where had he gotten that? Haggis appeared right behind him, bobbing in and out of the crowd. Haggis carried a number of satchels over one shoulder. And they were bulging. Was this the food Sven had promised to get? Finally! I got up to meet them. Maybe they had found a McDonald’s somewhere nearby, my stoned mind wanting a Big Mac in the worst way. Of course, there were no McDonalds’, not out here, not for maybe a hundred miles. When I asked if they were bringing breakfast, Sven just smiled, told me “No.” He handed me a satchel and said to follow him. Don’t look inside, he said. We’re headed to the Hog Farm. But from the aroma sneaking out of the burlap, I knew very well what was inside. All of us, including Roger and his dog, were off to do our community service—Haggis-style—in the rain and sun.

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I’m a sex educator and a cannabis industry professional. By and large, most of my friends are colleagues and my colleagues are my friends. This means I spend a great deal of my time talking with other people who speak my language—who understand what I mean when I say internal condom or who don’t blink when I start waxing philosophical about cannabinoids and terpenes.

Sometimes I forget that the average person’s sex education was limited to “wear a condom or you’ll get chlamydia and die” and that a majority of people only know about cannabis through reefer madness or that one edible they did in college that made them wish for death. One of the reasons that I share so publicly and so transparently is to make people feel less alone—that they can point to another human having a similar experience and say “me too.” Another equally important component to me telling you all the details of my sex and cannabis adventures is that I’m trying to cultivate curiosity. Curiosity is the key to learning. If you’re not curious, you’ll never ask why or how, because it’s not of interest. So when I talk about threesomes or cool cannabis gadgets or new and innovative sex toys, I’m not just humble bragging—I’m trying to get you to ask “why would someone do that?” or “how does that work?” and then start searching for the answers.

The downside to that transparency is not everyone I’m trying to serve is comfortable hearing that level of detail. Some of the people I really want to help might consider my suggestion to masturbate in front of a partner unthinkably kinky. Others might hear non-monogamy and immediately shut down because it’s so divergent from their lived experience. The things I take for granted (spending $80-$150 on a sex toy) might be well outside of their socioeconomic reality.

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The fashion world is a chaotic land full of outlandish Instagram photos and Kanye West shows, but every once in a while something magical happens. A phenomenon unlike any other.

The fashion world (and yes the sports world) were blessed this past month with the RompHim.

What’s the RompHim, you ask? Well, that’s a great question. According to the Kickstarter page—which is currently hovering at just under $360,000—the RompHim is a romper designed for men. It’s described as “your new favorite summer outfit,” which almost certainly isn’t true.

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I read that the site of the Woodstock Festival on Max Yasgur’s farm has been designated as a spot in the National Register of Historic Places. If there was a National Register for Higher Places, Woodstock would be at the top of the list. Just sayin. Gonna take you higher. As above, so far-out below.

I was trying to get to it to do it, but I was waxing fried. The music went on all night and into Sunday morning, truncated because of the rain delays. I slept in the fading grass. I migrated up the hill and slept in the tent, then in the Plumber’s helper, waiting out the rain. Came back down to our muddy spot, got under the plastic tarp with all my friends. We lit up, hovering around each other, taking hits and drinking beer, waiting for the music to begin anew. Our plastic cave filled with smoke until you couldn’t see the person next to you. I lay back in the perspiring mud and fell asleep, the rain hitting the plastic with ping-like precision. I imagined the rain as foot-long rulers, slicing the air into twelve inch segments of hash. Thunder boomed. Lightning screeched. Was that a guitar? Or fingernails wailing on a blackboard?

Sly and the Family Stone came and went, and then The Who appeared on stage. The Who had been one of the bands I was looking forward to. The rain finally cooperated and exited, tail between its legs, into the sky—back to the blackness, where it belonged. At least for now.

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FC2 FEMALE CONDOMS: Why They’re Worth It

If you’re like most of the people I meet in my sex educator travels, you’ve never heard of the FC2 Female Condom. I just found out that the manufacturer, Veru Health, has decided to make this condom prescription-only, and I’m feeling a bit frustrated about it. Since I experience pain with penetration, I use THC-infused coconut oil spray almost every time I have sex. I need a non-latex option because oil degrades latex. These condoms are the only ones I’ve ever found that are both non-latex and able to accommodate my well-endowed partners.

One of the issues I’ve seen with the FC2 condoms is that not enough people know about them or how to use them, so I wanted to give you a little overview of my favorite barrier method in hopes that when they do become prescription only, you will be empowered to ask your healthcare provider about them.

One important thing to know up front, the name itself is a headache for sexuality professionals because it is a blatant misnomer—people of all genders can use the FC2. I prefer to call it the internal or receptive condom because it can be used vaginally or anally. It’s the only condom on the market designed to be used by the person being penetrated. From the manufacturer website, brackets mine: “It has flexible inner and outer rings that hold it in place during sex. It lines the walls of the vagina [or anus], allowing the penis [or toy] to move freely inside the condom during sex, the silicone-based lubricant provides a natural sensation and the non-latex nitrile material heats up to your body temperature.”

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Here we have a new strain bred by the all organic, no till- living soil style gardener, @coloradomeds.  A dank cross of the infamous GG#4 and Platinum Huckleberry Cookies.  These photos are a a few weeks out from harvest so you can enjoy the clear and milky trichomes!

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Part I: A New Dawn

As above, so below, as within, so without, as the Universe, so the soul…to it and from it again. Sunset, the old day dying. Sunrise, a new day dawning. As above, so below…the Age of Aquarius was upon us. At least for a while, anyway, horizon to horizon. Galaxies, heretofore, traveling away from us, were now running pell-mell across the hills—scattering like rabbits back into our arms. I could bat them with my eyelashes, then they’d recede into oblivion again. Right here and now, sitting on the grass, life was warm. The microcosm encompassed five hundred thousand souls clustered around me. I felt as if I were one with all of them. A warm feeling spread inside my chest. The macrocosm, hard and cold, the starry universe out there beyond the pale, kept us at an arm’s distance. Not so difficult to travel beyond Earth’s confines, though. The music and weed, the acid and mushrooms; all of it took us on rocket rides upward and outward—away from the captivity of this wondrous, blue spherical world we call Earth. Then we’d come back again, tunnel into the labyrinths of our minds and selves. Sunsets and sunrises rising and falling. As above so below. To it and from it again.

Saturday Is the Day to Do It

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I spent four days last week with jessica drake, my friend and fellow sex educator. She is a Wicked Pictures contract performer and was shooting her feature movie for the year, jessica drake is Wicked. The goal was to create a series of highly stylized vignettes that showcased her passions and desires. I missed the first day, Cirque du Sex, but I’m told it involved a sword swallower and jessica hanging in a lyra hoop. So rad.

I arrived Monday for the second day of shooting. The theme for the day was Original Sin, featuring jessica playing Eve opposite Ryan Driller, whose chiseled form was perfect for Adam. It was a reimagined Garden of Eden story (and far more entertaining than the original, in my opinion). The snake was a 70lb boa constrictor who was only present for photos and went home before any of the sexy fun times began—it’s not that kind of movie.

The third day was Teamwork, and it went off with a blowbang. Yes, blowbang. It’s like a gangbang, except the focus is solely on oral sex. It took place in a boardroom setting and included four performers jessica was working with for the first time: Dirk Huge, Isiah Maxwell, Ricky Johnson and Rob Piper. The chemistry was palpable, and jessica totally looked the part of a corporate executive in a tie, tailored vest and jacket with a matching pocket square.

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Music or memory? Which comes first? Do you get a sudden glimpse of the past while listening to music? Or do you remember the music only after recalling the times gone by? I think for all of us it’s a little of both. Add in an odor that curls in your nose—that’ll take you back as well. Sometimes, when I find myself in heavy humidity, pressing itself down into my shoulders, that languorous late summer smell of decaying leaves ready to drop and turn to dust, I flash back to those times I sat with five hundred thousand like-minded souls on the grass in that natural amphitheater, then later in the mud, rain coming down in windy torrents. There are many ways to gaze into the past, not the least of which are friends to help you along. Yes, I remember it well. I garnered memories for the days of future past. And then, the music started. We were one.

Richie Havens and Frodo

When I hear Richie Havens, I’m immediately transported to Woodstock in the summer of 1969. Sitting beside my friends on blankets while joints were being passed around, jugs of cheap wine and beer—all were in ample supply. Amazed at the size of the crowd. I had never seen anything like it. It swelled like a huge wave crashing in on a beach. I don’t know how Roger was coping. He was lying under his blanket, arms around his dog’s neck. The bottle of scotch was empty, lying on its side in the grass beside him.

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This Tangerine Power shines bright within the Allgreens ( garden without a doubt.  Sin City Seeds created this cross of Agent Orange x Blue Power which grows trichome covered calyxes like no other.  A delicious hybrid that soothes the soul and relaxes the mind!


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