By Jim Schutze
By Rachel Watts
By Lauren Drewes Daniels
By Anna Merlan
By Lee Escobedo
It goes by any number of stoner-like names: Ultra Wizard Smoke, Killer Skunk, Stashish, Afganish. It's available in local "lifestyle accessory shops." (Head shops are illegal in Dallas.) It looks and smells vaguely like pot. Call it crapish--a blend of legal herbs that promises a "ride to the stars on a puff of smoke."
But does it work? Full Frontal convened a panel of experts--our staff--on the roof of the Dallas Observer building to sample a few brands. Yep, an afternoon hard at work toking on marijuana substitutes. God bless America.
We tried four: Ultra Wizard Smoke, Krypto, damiana and salvia divinorum. Our panelists' reviews of the first three follow:
"It tastes like pot roast."
"I don't think I feel anything, do you?"
"Uh...maybe. No, wait. Nothing."
"I feel like someone took an herbal dump in my mouth."
Finally, there was the salvia divinorum, which looks a bit like black tea. "Oooh. Look at the colors. Moving colors," one panelist noted after a toke. Another fell to the floor laughing. The effect lasted about two minutes; the headache, about an hour.
The conclusion? There's good shit, and there's bad shit. And then there's just plain old shit. Or, as the clerk at the lifestyle accessory shop put it: "If it were any good, they wouldn't let us sell it."
Wondering where that sticky-sweet stench on your kids' clothes comes from? It's called a sugar smack, and no, we're not talking about the cereal. Sugar smacks are Starbucks-and-sugar-laced cigarettes, and they're the latest high for the under-17 demo, kids looking for a cheap (and semi-legal) buzz. (At raves and dance clubs, sugar smacks have become as essential as glow sticks and pacifiers.) Essentially a portable crème brûlée, the genius concoction mixes and matches dessert with an after-dinner smoke, only we're told it's better than either and twice as addictive. The recipe: one cigarette, dipped in a latte and rolled in sugar. (The slightly more adventurous substitute a mochaccino and brown sugar; that particular mutation is known as chocolate thunder.) Once dry, all you need is a match--and a good alibi when the folks start asking why you smell like the tail end of a three-alarm at the local coffee shop. --Zac Crain
Hey, old people, for the latest hot tips on trends affecting your kids--or not--visit www.gullibleoldfarts.com. Or read Newsweek.