It’s my life

Author: Still Standing Press

  • Wake & Bake vs. Getting It Right

    In Colorado, morning cannabis use isn’t one-size-fits-all anymore. What used to be lumped into a single stereotype—wake and bake—has quietly evolved into something more nuanced.

    Let’s break it down.

    ☀️ Wake & Bake (The Classic)

    This is the version everyone recognizes.

    Roll out of bed. Light up. Start the day elevated.

    It’s ritual. It’s habit. Sometimes it’s just how the day begins without much thought beyond “let’s go.”

    The vibe here leans recreational:

    • Immediate lift
    • Loose structure
    • See-where-the-day-goes energy

    There’s nothing mysterious about it—it’s been around forever, and it still has its place.

    ☕ Functional Morning Use (The Colorado Shift)

    Now here’s where things get interesting.

    A lot of seasoned users aren’t diving straight into the deep end anymore. Instead, it looks more like:

    • Coffee first
    • A couple controlled hits
    • Then ease into the day

    This isn’t about getting blasted. It’s about dialing things in.

    The goal:

    • Smooth out the edges
    • Lift mood
    • Manage pain
    • Stay clear enough to actually do life

    It’s intentional. Measured. Almost like adjusting a thermostat instead of flipping a switch.

    🧠 It Comes Down to Intent

    Same plant. Same time of day. Completely different outcomes.

    • Wake & Bake: “Let’s get high.”
    • Functional Use: “Let’s get right.”

    That shift—from chasing the high to shaping the day—is where a lot of Colorado users land over time.

    🔄 The Evolution

    Experience changes the relationship.

    What starts as wake-and-bake energy often turns into something more refined:

    • Less about escape
    • More about balance
    • Less autopilot, more awareness

    And yeah, sometimes that just means one extra pull with your morning coffee—not because you need it, but because you know exactly what it does.

    Final Thought

    Morning use isn’t the story.

    Intent is.

  • Castle Rock Weather: Commitment Issues in Forecast Form

    They’re calling for snow tomorrow.

    And yeah—we need it. The ground’s dry, the air’s been playing desert, and moisture is basically overdue. So logically, this is a good thing.

    But let’s not pretend it doesn’t suck a little.

    Because right now? It’s warm. It’s pleasant. It’s “maybe I don’t need a jacket” weather.

    And then Friday rolls in like:
    “Cool story—here’s 35 degrees, wind, and snow to do it in.”

    Classic Castle Rock. The Palmer Divide doesn’t just get weather—it auditions for it.

    You almost have to respect the whiplash:
    One day you’re thinking about grilling…
    Next day you’re wondering where that one glove disappeared to.

    Still—bring it on.

    We’ll take the moisture. We’ll complain about it. We’ll act surprised like this doesn’t happen every single year.

    And by Sunday?
    We’ll be back in the sun like nothing ever happened.

    Because around here, weather isn’t a season—it’s a personality disorder.

  • Shoelace Protest

    I tied my shoes this morning—
    double knot, like they taught me—
    tight, controlled,
    predictable.

    But halfway through the day
    they came undone anyway.

    Not dramatic.
    No speech.
    No sirens.
    Just a quiet unraveling
    against pavement.

    And I stood there—
    one lace dragging like a question—
    thinking how strange it is
    that the smallest failures
    trip us hardest.

    So I didn’t retie them.

    No kneel.
    No fix.
    No quiet compliance.

    I walked.

    Let them slap the concrete,
    whisper against the ground,
    announce each step
    like a soft rebellion.

    People noticed—
    or maybe they didn’t—
    but I felt it:

    Every loose thread
    a refusal.

    Every step
    a protest against the idea
    that everything
    must always be held together
    just because
    someone showed you how.

    By the time I got home,
    they were filthy, frayed,
    nearly undone completely.

    And I thought—
    good.

    Let them be.

    Not everything broken
    needs to be fixed.

    Some things
    just need to be seen.

  • Stoner-Smart Ordering at Culver’s (Meadows Pkwy Edition)

    Location: Culver’s
    Mission: Stay lifted… not wrecked.

    🎯 The Strategy

    Let’s keep it simple:

    One indulgence. One anchor. One brain cell left for good decisions.

    You’re not here to win an eating contest—you’re here to enjoy the ride and still function afterward.

    🧠 The Stoner-Smart Build

    1. The Anchor (Protein First)

    Pick something that keeps you grounded:

    • Grilled Chicken Sandwich (hold the mayo if you’re feeling disciplined)
    • Single ButterBurger (not the double—relax, champ)

    👉 This is what prevents the “I just ate everything in the bag and don’t remember how” scenario.

    2. The Side (Keep It Chill)

    • Skip the large fries
    • Go small fries or just ride without them

    👉 Fries are sneaky—they turn a snack into a full-blown life decision.

    3. The Indulgence (Choose Your Fighter)

    Here’s where you get your moment:

    • Kids Scoop Custard → low damage, high satisfaction
    • Small Oreo® Cookie Overload → if you’re feeling bold but still pretending to be responsible

    👉 Do NOT combo this with large fries unless you’re planning a couch-based retirement.

    🚫 What to Avoid (The Danger Zone)

    • Double burgers + large fries + large dessert
    • “I’ll just try a bite of everything” (famous last words)
    • Ordering while too high without a plan (this is how legends fall)

    🧘 The Aftermath Plan

    • Drink water (yes, seriously)
    • Give it 10–15 minutes before deciding you “need more”
    • If you’re still hungry… you probably just want another hit, not another burger

    🏁 Final Word

    You can absolutely enjoy Culver’s without turning it into a full-body experience that requires a nap and a life reevaluation.

    Stay sharp. Stay satisfied. Stay in control.

    Because nothing ruins a good high like realizing you accidentally ate 1,800 calories and can’t find your motivation.

    Still Standing Press — Fueling the Comeback, One Smart Bite at a Time

  • ☢️ NEIGHBORHOOD EMERGENCY BROADCAST ☢️  

    ☢️ NEIGHBORHOOD EMERGENCY BROADCAST ☢️  

    Now here’s the part that stings a little:  

    That “strong smell” you’re reporting?  

    That’s not a problem.  

    That’s what top-tier quality weed smells like.  

    It’s the same reason:  

    – Good BBQ travels three houses down  

    – Fresh coffee hits before you open the cup  

    – And apparently… my garden introduces itself before I do  

    The difference?  

    Nobody files complaints about my brisket.  

    Let’s be honest for a second—  

    Some of you rev and idle engines at 6am and I’m cool with that. 

    Some of you run leaf blowers like it’s a competitive sport, which is all good.

    Some of you think “subtle” is a 12-foot inflatable in January, it happens.

    But the plant?  

    That’s where we draw the line?  

    Interesting.  

    Here’s the reality:  

    Nothing here is accidental.  

    Nothing here is out of control.  

    It’s dialed in  indoors, on purpose, and quite frankly—  

    operating at a level most people wouldn’t recognize if it introduced itself twice.  

    So if the breeze carries it your way, don’t panic.  

    You’re not being attacked.  

    You’re being exposed to excellence.  

    And if that bothers you…  

    you’re really going to hate next harvest season.

    Thanks for your time.

    #cannabis in my neighborhood

    #neighbor who smokes weed or #marijuana.

    #WhatdoIdo?

  • Castle Rock, Gas Pumps, and the Art of Getting the Order Right (Eventually)

    There are days when life in Castle Rock feels simple. Big sky. Dry air. A steady Colorado rhythm if you’re paying attention.

    And then there are gas pumps.

    Two years after a stroke, I’ve learned something I didn’t expect: it’s rarely the big challenges that trip you up—it’s the small, everyday sequences hiding inside normal life.

    Give me conversation, memory, reflection, meaning—I’m solid.

    Put me in front of a modern gas pump?

    Now I’m in a four-step escape room designed by chaos.

    Card in.

    Card out.

    Zip code.

    Select grade.

    Wait—no—don’t touch that yet.

    The machine changes its mind more than I do.

    The real issue isn’t the task. It’s the order. That invisible “what comes next” thread that used to run automatically… now sometimes tangles.

    So I do what works: I slow it down and run a script.

    Card.

    Zip.

    Grade.

    Nozzle.

    Simple. Repeatable. Grounded.

    And honestly, that’s been the theme lately—breaking life into steps small enough that they stop arguing back.

    Castle Rock has its own rules

    If you’re going to call yourself local, you’d better get the spelling right.

    It’s Castle Rock. Two words. Always.

    Not “Castlerock.” Not “Castle rock.”

    That’s the kind of mistake that quietly tells on you. Like showing up to a job site with spotless boots and no dust on them. Technically fine… socially suspicious.

    This place has a mix of long-time Colorado rhythm and newer arrivals still figuring out the cadence. You learn to read the difference.

    The outlet mall economy of real life gear

    Then there’s the other institution: the outlet stores.

    Out here, it’s less “shopping” and more “re-equipping for reality.”

    And one store always stands out—the Columbia outlet.

    That place isn’t about fashion. It’s about function.

    Jackets built for wind that feels like it has opinions. Layers for weather that can’t decide what season it is. Gear that doesn’t try to impress anyone—it just refuses to quit.

    That mindset fits here: buy it once, use it hard, keep it alive as long as physics allows.

    There’s a quiet pride in that kind of durability. The kind you don’t talk about much—you just wear it.

    Even when it starts to look like it’s been through a few negotiations with nature and lost a couple.

    Everything becomes a system eventually

    The gas pump. The town spelling. The gear you trust. Even errands.

    It all becomes sequencing.

    Step one. Step two. Step three.

    And when your brain doesn’t always trust the order anymore, you adapt the system instead of fighting it.

    Slower. Clearer. More intentional.

    Not broken—just recalibrated.

    Small wins still count

    Some days the win is obvious.

    Other days, it’s simple:

    No mistakes at the gas pump.

    No frustration spike.

    No reset needed.

    Just clean execution of something ordinary that used to feel unpredictable.

    And that’s enough.

    Actually—it’s more than enough. That’s how stability gets rebuilt.

    One sequence at a time.

    Tags

    #CastleRock #ColoradoLife #StrokeRecovery #ExecutiveFunction #EverydayWins #AdaptiveLiving

  • Castle Rock, Gas Pumps, and the Art of Getting the Order Wrong (Until You Don’t)

    There are days when life in Castle Rock feels simple. Big sky. Dry air. A quiet rhythm to everything if you know where to look.

    And then there are gas pumps.

    If you know, you know.

    Two years after a stroke, I’ve learned something kind of unexpected: it’s not the big stuff that trips you up—it’s the tiny, invisible sequencing problems hiding inside everyday life. Give me a conversation, give me a long thought, give me meaning and memory and reflection—I’m good.

    But put me in front of a modern gas pump?

    Suddenly I’m in a four-step escape room designed by someone who hates me personally.

    Card in.

    Card out.

    Zip code.

    Select grade.

    Wait—no—don’t touch that yet.

    The machine changes its mind more than I do.

    The real issue isn’t the task. It’s the order. That invisible “what comes next” thread that used to run quietly in the background of everything… now occasionally tangles.

    So I do what works: I slow it down. I run a script.

    Card.

    Zip.

    Grade.

    Nozzle.

    Simple. Repeatable. Human-scale.

    And weirdly enough, that’s been the theme of a lot of life lately—breaking things down until they stop arguing back.

    Castle Rock is full of small tests like that

    Even the culture here has its own sequencing rules. First rule: if you’re going to call yourself local, you’d better know how to spell it.

    It’s Castle Rock. Two words. Always.

    Not “Castlerock.” Not “Castle rock.” Those are immediate tells. Like showing up to a job site with brand-new boots and no dirt on them. Technically fine… socially suspicious.

    And honestly, it’s funny how those little details matter here. Because this place is a mix of old Colorado rhythm and newer “did I move here last summer?” energy. You learn to spot the difference pretty quickly.

    The factory store economy of survival gear

    Then there’s the other Castle Rock institution: the outlet mall.

    It’s not really shopping here—it’s logistics.

    You don’t “browse” so much as you re-equip for reality.

    And one store in particular has earned its reputation: Columbia.

    That place isn’t about fashion. It’s about endurance.

    Jackets for wind that feels like it has a personal agenda. Layers for days when Colorado forgets what season it’s pretending to be. Gear that isn’t trying to impress anyone—it’s just trying to survive.

    It fits a certain mindset perfectly: buy it once, use it hard, keep it alive as long as physics allows.

    There’s a quiet pride in that. The kind of pride that shows up in a jacket that looks like it’s seen things… and is still refusing to retire.

    Everything becomes a system eventually

    The gas pump. The town spelling. The gear you wear. Even the errands you run.

    It all becomes sequencing.

    Step one. Step two. Step three.

    And when your brain doesn’t always trust the order anymore, you build your own version of the system. Slower. Clearer. Less automatic, more intentional.

    It’s not about fixing yourself. It’s about adapting the flow so life stops tripping over itself.

    Small wins still count

    Some days the win is big and obvious.

    Other days, it’s just:

    No mistakes at the gas pump.

    No frustration spike.

    No reset needed.

    Just clean execution of a tiny, ordinary task that used to feel like a moving target.

    And that’s enough.

    Actually—it’s more than enough. It’s how you stack stability back into place.

    One sequence at a time.

    Castle Rock

    CastleRock

    sequencing

    Stroke

    The Columbia Store

    Frustration spikes

  • 4/20 Memories @ The Denver Diner

    Yay it’s finally April

    It’s funny how some 4/20 memories aren’t about massive crowds, smoke clouds over a park, or music blasting through the city. Sometimes, it’s just about where you land after work is done for fthe day.

    I’ve only really done one proper 4/20 outing, and it still sticks with me. My old ski partner and I ended up at Denver Diner—that perfect late lunch, early dinner window where you’re not rushed even though the Denver Diner was packed, everything slows down just enough to feel it.

    But the real story started long before we sat down.

    That day was all cutting and trimming weed. Hours of it. Hands sticky, senses overloaded, and that smell—fully locked in and happy. Not the casual “yeah, I smoke weed” kind of scent. No sir. This was the industrial-strength, been breathing weed all-day, loud-without-speaking kind of smell.

    There are levels to this game.

    Some people try to smell like weed.

    Some people are weed.

    I was firmly in the second category.

    By the time we walked into the diner, I was half-aware of it and half not caring at all because it’s 420. That strange mix of exhaustion and satisfaction had kicked in—the kind where you know you earned whatever’s coming next. Food hits different after a day like that. Not just better—earned.

    Now here’s the kicker: Civic Center Park—ground zero for Denver’s 4/20 scene—isn’t that far away from the old Denver Diner. We could’ve wandered over, jumped into the crowd, made a whole thing out of it.

    But honestly?

    We didn’t need to.

    It was already 4/20 on the calendar—and I smelled like weed… go figure.

    No big crowd. No spectacle. Just two guys, a long day behind them, and a meal that felt like a reward.

    And looking back? That might’ve been the best way to do it.

    Because sometimes, you don’t go to the event.

    Sometimes… you are the event.

    Denver 420

    Denver Diner

    Civic Center Park

    Denver Weed

  • Castle Rock Chronic: What’s Really Going On in Our Neighborhood

    If you’ve noticed a little extra green in some of the ranchettes around Castle Rock, you’re not imagining things. Many of the modern barns on these properties are rumored to house unregulated cannabis grows.

    Your meager ¼-acre lot probably doesn’t want to compete with that—and that’s part of the dynamic fueling some of the personal snark attacks on Nextdoor. In my opinion, a lot of the anti-weed sentiment comes from people trying to protect their own small “market.”

    If legal, regulated cannabis becomes widely allowed here, the county would almost certainly restrict indoor grows outside of town because of fire risks. And that’s a distinct possibility. Six plants per household might sound small—but if everyone does it, things could get out of control quickly.

    For anyone thinking about growing right now: the price of weed is at an all-time low, so it’s not exactly the best time to start.

    The bottom line? Castle Rock has a mix of legal, illegal, and semi-hidden grows—and understanding that helps explain some of the tension you see online.

    Curious—what do you think this means for our neighborhood and the future of cannabis here?

    Castle Rock real estate

    Living in Castle Rock

    Castle Rock ranchette

    Castle Rock weed

    Castle Rock Colorado

  • Daily Journal — Thursday, March 26, 2026

    I feel uneasy today. There’s no clean reason for it, which almost makes it worse. Just one of those low-grade, background feelings like something’s off and I can’t quite tune it out.

    Maybe it’s the constant noise of the world lately. Maybe it’s politics creeping in again—hard not to notice when names like Donald Trump keep circling the conversation whether you invite them in or not. But if I’m being honest, it’s probably not just one thing. It’s everything stacked together.

    It feels like standing in a room that’s just slightly tilted. Nothing is falling over… but you know it could.

    Mentally, I’m pacing today. Physically, I’m here—working out one way or the other. Doesn’t have to be pretty, just has to happen. Movement over mood.

    Hash oil shipment is in. Just need to pay and pick it up—maybe this afternoon. A small mission on the board.

    “In time, Padawan… in time.” Even Yoda had to remind people to slow down and trust the process.

    So that’s the plan today: stay grounded, get the body moving, handle what’s in front of me, and not go chasing every uneasy thought that shows up.

    No heroics required. Just execution.

    Let’s see how this one plays out.

  • THE FULL “I WANT TO BELIEVE” ROSWELL EXPERIENCE

    👽 1. International UFO Museum and Research Center

    This is your mothership.

    • Original reports of the Roswell Incident

    • Government cover-up theories

    • Witness testimonies

    • Newspaper clippings that’ll make you go “hold up…”

    👉 Pro move:

    Go in a little skeptical… and watch that slowly dissolve.

    ⸻

    👽 2. Alien Walk of Fame (right outside the museum)

    • Plaques for UFO researchers and “experts”

    • Feels like Hollywood… if Hollywood believed in abductions

    👉 Vibe check:

    You will absolutely take a picture here. Resistance is futile.

    ⸻

    👽 3. Alien Zone Area 51

    This is where things get… wonderfully unhinged.

    • Life-size alien scenes

    • “Captured human” photo ops

    • You can pose in cages like you’ve been abducted

    👉 My take:

    It’s ridiculous. It’s perfect. Lean in.

    ⸻

    👽 4. Roswell UFO Spacewalk

    Blacklight alien tunnel trip.

    • Glow-in-the-dark sci-fi walk-through

    • Feels like walking inside a low-budget but lovable alien movie

    👉 Expect:

    “What am I even looking at?” → followed by → “Okay this is actually awesome”

    ⸻

    👽 5. Galactic Gems

    Because every alien town needs crystals.

    • Meteorites

    • UFO-adjacent rocks

    • “Energy” stuff that may or may not realign your chakras

    👉 Even if you don’t believe:

    You’ll find something cool to hold onto.

    ⸻

    👽 6. Downtown Alien Hunt 🛸

    Main Street is basically an open-world alien game:

    • Alien streetlights

    • Murals of gray beings everywhere

    • Random statues watching you like 👀

    👉 Side quest:

    Count how many aliens you spot before you lose track (you will lose track).

    ⸻

    👽 7. Little A’Le’Inn (Roswell-style vibes, not local but iconic idea)

    Okay this one’s not in Roswell—but if you find anything similar locally, go.

    In Roswell instead try alien-themed menus:

    • “Galaxy burgers”

    • “Alien blood” drinks

    👉 Rule:

    If it has a bad pun, order it.

    ⸻

    🌌 NIGHT MODE: WHERE IT GETS REAL

    🌠 Desert sky outside Roswell

    This is where the joke stops feeling like a joke.

    • Zero light pollution

    • Massive sky

    • Dead quiet

    👉 Do this:

    Drive 10–20 minutes out of town.

    Sit. Look up. Don’t talk for a minute.

    Your brain will go:

    “…okay but what if?”

    ⸻

    🛸 Bonus: Make it weird yourself

    You seem like the kind of guy who’d appreciate this move:

    • Start a fake “sighting report” in your notes

    • Narrate it like it’s real

    • Add details as the night goes on

    By the end you’ll either:

    • Have a hilarious story

    • Or accidentally convince yourself something happened 😄

    ⸻

    🧠 Real talk

    Roswell works best when you:

    • Commit to the bit

    • Don’t overthink it

    • Let it be cheesy and mysterious at the same time

    It’s not about proof.

    It’s about the feeling of:

    “Something weird happened here… and nobody really knows what.”

  • Keep it simple. Keep it smooth. Get where you’re going

    Hot take: I don’t buy into that whole “you gotta cough to get off” thing.

    If your weed makes you hack like you just inhaled a campfire, that’s not potency—that’s poor quality or bad delivery. Good weed should be smooth, taste decent, and still get the job done without punishing your lungs.

    Honestly, the only time I really taste weed is that first pull off a 510 cartridge. After that, it’s game over—your taste buds clock out and the high takes over.

    Same with flower. First hit? Maybe some flavor. After that? You’re mostly just along for the ride.

    At this point, I’m not chasing “loud” or fancy labels—I’m chasing smooth, effective, and consistent. If I gotta cough my way there, I’m doing it wrong… or the weed is.

    Keep it simple. Keep it smooth. Get where you’re going.

  • ☢️ NEIGHBORHOOD EMERGENCY BROADCAST ☢️

    Attention to the self-appointed “odor task force”:

    You did it.
    You found the source.

    It’s not a gas leak.
    It’s not a skunk.
    It’s not the end times.

    It’s elite-level cannabis… and yes, it’s mine.

    Before anyone drafts another investigative novel in the comments, let’s fast-forward:
    ✔️ Legal
    ✔️ Controlled
    ✔️ Grown with more precision than most of your Wi-Fi passwords

    What’s actually happening is simple—
    You caught a whiff of something unfamiliar and immediately went full detective mode like you just cracked a crime ring.

    Relax, Sherlock. It’s agriculture.

    Now here’s the part that stings a little:

    That “strong smell” you’re reporting?
    That’s not a problem.

    That’s what top-tier quality smells like.

    It’s the same reason:

    • Good BBQ travels three houses down
    • Fresh coffee hits before you open the cup
    • And apparently… my garden introduces itself before I do

    The difference?
    Nobody files complaints about brisket.

    Let’s be honest for a second—
    Some of you rev engines at 6am
    Some of you run leaf blowers like it’s a competitive sport
    Some of you think “subtle” is a 12-foot inflatable in January

    But the plant?
    That’s where we draw the line?

    Interesting.

    Here’s the reality:
    Nothing here is accidental.
    Nothing here is out of control.

    It’s dialed in, on purpose, and frankly—
    operating at a level most people wouldn’t recognize if it introduced itself twice.

    So if the breeze carries it your way, don’t panic.
    You’re not being attacked.

    You’re being exposed to excellence.

    And if that bothers you…
    you’re really going to hate harvest season.

  • Daily Journal — March 16, 2026

    Daily Journal — March 16, 2026

    8:00 AM and my phone rings.

    It’s Mr. George from WP. That alone kind of freaked me out—nobody calls that early unless something’s wrong, especially from Mr. George. But I answered anyway. Turns out he was “just” already bored at 8 AM on his first day off of the week.

    The last time the G-man called me was about a while ago when they had a mechanical issue on the gondola and had to break the ropes out. He gave me a full play-by-play of what was happening up there. Later that night I saw the same story on 9News.

    Today’s report from GMan: a couple of his lift maintenance snowmobiles were tied up dealing with kids and moms who were wandering into the closed lift area down by the snowmaking pond. Apparently that’s the first morning adventure of the day.

    I apologized for not calling him lately. Truth is, we just haven’t been heading up there much. The snow kind of sucks right now, and when the snow sucks, the motivation to make the trip in traffic disappears pretty fast.

    Still, it was good hearing from him. Funny how a random 8 AM phone call can suddenly drop a little WP into a quiet morning down here.

  • Not a nice day

    Not a nice day

    Daily Journal — March 15, 2026

    It snowed last night and the wind is gusting up to 30 mph. That’s the kind of weather that politely suggests staying home and minding your business.

    Because of that, we’re not making the trip to Fort Collins to visit my folks today. No sense wrestling the roads when they’re in a bad mood. We’ll try again next week when Colorado decides to behave itself.