Friends, as you well know, my existence has become a prolong dance with the absurd. Surely, if the good lord had meant for me to chase the dragon of youthfulness with such fervour, he would have furnished me with the stamina of a spry gazelle, rather than the lumbering fortitude of an antiquated tortoise. But, the needles of time keep on jabbing, and while I'm busy counting my laughter lines, my trusty steed, the 'flexor hallucis brevis,' has become a greater foe than my truculent prostate.
Thus, with modest reluctance, I ventured into the wild yonder of the newfangled CBD market. These days it seems that every Tom, Dick and Harry is jumping on this cannabidiol bandwagon. Nevertheless, never let it be noted that ol' Seymour is a man to back down from a challenge. Thus, I armed myself with a bottle labeled 'Biggie's Mellow Moose Tincture,' boldly stepping forth into the unknown.
It was a peculiar concoction, let me tell you, brewed with the kind of audacity that could only be conceived by folks who decided to test their product on the bulky frame of a North American moose. Now don't get carried away, the good folks at Biggie's did not confirm whether they chose to immolate the moose in fiery bath of CBD oil or opted for the classic oral infusion, but you bet your backside it furthers my narrative, and so we persist.
Embark with me, dear reader, on this tragicomic expedition…
The tincture arrived, dressed more flamboyantly than a peacock in heat, bottled within an eye-catching flacon. It boasted a hefty 1000mg of active CBD, infused with spearmint, and as I would soon discover, arrogance. Opening the vial, I was immediately greeted by an aroma, suspiciously reminiscent of a moose caught in spring showers. My first instinct was to retreat, but shunning my survival skills, I tilted my head back and let Biggie's brew embark on its perilous journey.
Those of you familiar with the flexor hallucis brevis, or as I fondly call it, "the confounded curmudgeon," would know it hails from the foot domain. Presently it has been raising a ruckus, refusing to let this old dog rest. Beguiled by promises of CBD induced serenity, I envisioned it, idling in the foot hamlet, placid like a monk in deep meditation
Alas! Biggie's Mellow Moose Tincture catapulted this quaint fantasy into the abyss of cold reality. Upon consumption, instead of supplying a soothing sense of tranquillity, it engaged my curmudgeon in an electrifying tango that could put a certain Mr. Michael Flatley to shame. As my hopes for pain-free twilight years dwindled, I began to agonize over the questions that remain unanswered: How has this size bias manifested in CBD? Why does a subspecies of deer come equipped with a better response to the ambiguities of CBD?
In conclusion, Biggie's Mellow Moose Tincture was like hitching a ride with a speeding locomotive of disappointment. It took me and my disgruntled foot on a wild goose chase, ending in an amalgamation of frustration and bewildered laughter. Sorry, Biggie, your concoction might mellow a moose, but it sure as high-water hell caterwauled my flexor hallucis brevis!
For now, ol' Seymour's hunt for a CBD savior continues, unfettered by Biggie's botch. Keep tuned for more hapless adventures and rambunctious reviews, kiddos… The CBD saga of a cranky octogenarian has only just begun!