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Well, there it is. I hope you’re happy, you alpha-Karens and beta-Chads of the world. It’s fall — what was always my favorite season before I got too deep into this industry — and naturally, that means it’s time to trash everything good and holy in food and drink and cannabis by dousing it in pound after pound of pumpkin spice.
Boy, I’m so glad I got a Master’s in horticulture, and then a PhD in botany, so I could drown out any traces of aromas and flavors inherent to the strains of cannabis I grow with pumpkin spice flavoring yet again. My latest sativa literally tastes like a cannabis-infused cheesecake when you smoke it. It’s uncanny and the pinnacle of my career, and I must say I outdid myself. I can’t wait for you to try it.
Oh, wait, nevermind. Every single dispensary where you can get it has popped it into an edible energy bar coated in chai, brown sugar, and a bunch of fucking acorns or whatever. Fuck me, I guess.
And good thing I apprenticed with a master grower in Morocco for 10 years to perfect the art of compressing trichomes into hashish, just so we could dump a full fucking bucket of cinnamon and nutmeg all over it, masking everything that made the product of a high quality to begin with. Whew, you sure dodged a bullet there: you could’ve had the most fantastic interplay of delicate fragrance and subtlety known to cannabis with an incredibly clear-headed high, but instead, you can just smoke a goddamn pie. Aren’t you lucky.
I gotta say, I’m relieved, because pumpkin spice everything is absolutely why I opened a boutique micro-grow and spent my entire career perfecting my processes and product. Yes, outfitting the masses with yet another basic-as-possible offering is exactly why I spend 90 hours a week making sure the lighting and moisture levels are exactly right, and why I infuse every single plant with a unique, perfect blend of nutrients and herbs to develop a signature brand of cannabis.
Fuck this. Fuck every last bit of this.
You know what? I don’t even make the pumpkin spice. I get it from Starbucks. I buy one of those bottles of the syrup, and just marinate everything I make overnight in it. It’s fucking disgusting, and yet, nobody can get enough of it.
I should note, I am of course being facetious: I make them pumpkin spice because that’s the only thing anyone buys. My entire annual profit comes from this garbage.
Cameron Foley is a comedian and writer. He’d prefer you call him Cam.
