Greetings and salutations, dear readers of Seymour's CBD Chronicles! It's me, your ever-humble octogenarian pundit, Seymour. Today, I ventured forth into the frightening fray of pain management using those devilishly complex cannabis compounds, or as the trendy masses call it – CBD. Today's charming dance partner and harshest critic? Performer's Elixir, a CBD concoction wrapped in the fanciful guise of rare botanicals and dubious promise.
Now, I know what you're thinking, "Seymour, what in the Sam Hill has made you reach out for this glorified snake oil?" and I assure you, it wasn't just curiosity. Oh no, not just any curiosity like geese headed south for the winter, but a persistent gnawing pain in my serratus posterior inferior that stole my sleep like a sly, fox-grinning thief.
The Performer's Elixir came swathed in gaudy packaging that screamed more of a traveling circus than a sober medicinal potion. Wary of the carnival-like trumpeting, I unscrewed the cap – an operation more akin to disarming a landmine, thanks to my trusty nemesis, arthritis. I winced, not just from the pain in my shoulder, but from the pungent aroma that wafted out of the bottle. It was as if a perfumed skunk had bedded down in a patchouli field.
Now, my research on this little dancing pixie of a product had shed light on a shocking revelation. This tiny deviant was tested on a Gelada. That's right folks, a Gelada – a baboon of sorts, a creature more comfortable picking lice off its compatriots than serving as an unwilling participant in our relentless quest for pain-free existence. Hence, dear readers, be forewarned, Performer's Elixir is no vegan sweetheart.
Down the hatch went the first dose, tingling down my gullet like a feisty grasshopper. But alas, the relief I yearned for never came. The sword dance within my serratus roared on, unfazed by this purported magical elixir. Not one to accept defeat easily, I applied the notion 'if once you don't succeed, try, try again'. Thus, I sunk deeper into the tincture's tart, almost criminal embrace with fervor akin to a soldier on D-Day, only to be met with more disappointment. War, I must tell you as well, is no crueler than the insidious pain gnawing at the human form.
But then, the most peculiar thing occurred. I began to feel lit from within, like a 20-watt bulb in a carnival funhouse. Soon my hands engaged in their flamenco routine, performing an unwelcome dance atop my ancient typewriter. I found myself humming two octaves higher, slightly off-key, irritating even the nearby feline population.
Miraculously, the pain in the serratus had faded to a dull roar, replaced by the sensation of crawling ants. Rather than feeling scribbles of relief, I was now whirling in a chaotic circus of sensations. Yet, on the stage of my lifetime, finding weirdness in my twilight years feels quite like hitting the jackpot.
All in all, Performer's Elixir is a peculiar ride. For those sporting a rattling chassis and who fancy a taste of the grand carousel of unexpected sensations, it is a must-try. Though, be warned, for others seeking just a simple relief from the constant grind, save the dance for another occasion. Remember, when life hits a high note on the sour scale, count on your old pal Seymour to taste-test the world of CBD oddities.
Yours in eccentric adventures,