Sometimes weed just isn't enough. Sometimes, daddy wants to get fucked up. Just like the first two sentences of this post, you alienate people. Your kids are buckwild and rude. Your boss won't go to bat for your paycheck. The pigs stuck you trying to hop a free ride on MUNI again. Can I get a witness?
For the medical marijuana consumer who is more Psycho Dad than skinny jean, here's some cannabis-flavored alcoholic beverages specifically designed to help you relax your chest hairs after another long week of OMJesus...
While most of the alcohol kingdoms were busy contributing to the sabotage of Prop 19, Rogue Ales stepped to the High Times Cannabis Cup with a limited edition Epic Daze Ale. Humboldt Brown Hemp Ale, from Nectar Ales, mixes seeds and buds with the hops during their brewing process. Mt. Shasta Brewing Co., the itty-bitty microbrew from the town of Weed, CA, is my personal cannabeer king. Shastafarian Porter -- You need this!
Alas, on those rare occasions when Psycho Dads get to let our nuts hang, we may take it a tad too far. We may get drunk on Easter and then motorboat the sister-in-law. Perhaps the Psycho Dad you know is prone to crying about a good football game he saw once, in the '80s. Considering this gamble, enter the world of hard-pot alcohol at your own risk.
The cousin of absinthe, cannabis vodka will give you perma-grin in no time. It's good ol' vodka, bottled with a handful of Sativa seeds. In fact, whenever you need a 5 liter bottle of stuff that makes your head feel like a big yellow smiley face, you can just order this Czech claim to fame from a mom-and-pop online retailer, and they'll ship right over to you. Nothing sketchy about it. Perfectly legal.
Jamaicans love weed. Jamaicans love Rum. Germans love Jamaicans. So they stuffed a real Marijuana flower, buds and all, into each bottle of Golden Ganja Rum. Of course, SFoodies are also aware of the local vintner movement to infuse more marijuana into our vino. And I hear they come in red, white, blush and sparkling. Giddeyup!
Needless to say, when you crack any of these bad boys open at your next I-ain't-dead-yet house party, the celebration is bound to get some big booties bouncin'.