It’s the highest of holidays, folks.
On April 20, the stone prone among us celebrate cannabis Christmas. As of this year, 24 states and the District of Columbia have legalized small amounts of marijuana for medical and recreational use, recognizing getting high as an acceptable pursuit of happiness.
According to PBS, the origins of 4/20 are appropriately hazy, “Some claimed it referred to a police code for marijuana possession or that it arose from Bob Dylan’s ‘Rainy Day Women No. 12 & 35,’ with its refrain of ‘Everybody must get stoned’ — 420 being the product of 12 times 35.”
But as it turns out, a bunch of high school stoners from the Bay Area who called themselves “the Waldos” are responsible for 4/20 as we know it.
During the fall of 1971, at 4:20 p.m., after class and football practice, the Waldos would convene, smoke a joint and go hunting for a promised weed patch. The patch was never discovered, but their shorthand for smoking spread like a mighty bong exhale, especially when the crew began keeping company with the Grateful Dead. And there you have it.
And as anyone who has ever inhaled, imbibed or ingested marijuana can attest, the s–t makes you hungry. In honor of 4/20 and the most natural of appetite stimulants, we bring you a list of the zodiac signs as stoner snacks.
Read on, breathe deep, eat with abandon.
In appearance and attitude, Aries is a Flamin’ Hot Cheeto. Extra AF, arresting to the palette, livening to the senses and very likely to leave a stain.
A pseudo-wise friend of mine once decreed that you can tell a person’s income bracket by the richness of their cheese board, but one sign that goes big even when they’re broke is Taurus. If you’re going to get high, do it in the domain of a bull. They will undoubtedly come through with a coffee table full of strange cured meats, fresh fruit, artisanal honey and cheese that costs as much as cocaine.
More of the mind than the body, Gemini does not snack in any remotely direct or satisfying way. In between thoughts of doom and soliloquies about the pros and cons of vaccination, you’re likely to find them free-ranging on gum, aloe vera juice, cold french fries and Adderall.
Anything that won’t interrupt the stream of consciousness they call conversation.
Real talk, the Pillsbury Doughboy is a Cancer. With a taste for the Laughing Buddha strain, his cinnamon rolls are the iced fruits of his soft-baked loins. Cancer represents emotional root systems and the ideals of nurturing, and crabs are the kind of stoners that can operate an oven and deliver to their cohorts a taste of the home they deserved but never experienced. So good it brings a tear to the eye and a wistfulness to the heart.
As the sign of the regal inner child and/or the tiny petulant tyrant within, weed makes Leo even more of a decadent despot than normal. They’re likely to only want to smoke their extravagant cool kid weed out of their weird expensive apparatus. When it comes to bread and circuses, no one likes the pageantry and flattery more. Lions will want to order macaroons, birthday cake for their half-birthday, Edible Arrangements and other show pieces that give them the sense that they are a cause worth celebrating.
Associated with the harvest, Virgo might have on hand some sourdough and whipped breast milk butter they made while cosplaying/slumming it as a trad wife.
Alternatively, they’re the type to suggest a nature excursion and come correct with a healthy, life-sustaining trail mix. As underdogs themselves, Virgos are straight champions of the maligned and the under-appreciated, and nothing fits the bill like a god—n raisin, rising out of an otherwise beautiful medley like some unholy combination of vitamins and ingrown pubic hair.
Ah, Libra, you cheap, charm-doling, well-heeled opportunists. The Libra move is to rapturously convince present company how delicious a certain food or drink item will be: “Imagine the celestial fizz of a root beer float RN! The marriage of dark and light, Americana and effervescence, the underworld and the ethereal, it’s the blessing Roger Ebert longed for when he no longer had the capacity to consume!” They’ll leave you stoned and wanting and then bait-and-switch you into ordering or preparing it and paying for it either way.
Stoned or not, and in sunshine or in shadow, Scorpio folks have an insatiable appetite for secrets, background checks, black licorice, edging (alone or with a partner), and red meat. Already deeply psychic and unnervingly cerebral, weed stimulates their hunger and encourages them to confuse paranoia for intuition and wile away the hours imagining their own deaths while eating truffles.
Sagittarius stoners will hold you intellectually hostage as they ruminate on the meaning of life and quantum physics while balancing a bong between their thighs and driving a s—ty car with a great sound system. Have opinions, will travel is the name of this game and Munchies snack mix, available everywhere gas is sold and slushies are siphoned, is the perfect accompaniment to their brand of whimsical, road tested f—ery.
Bless you, Capricorn, while you’re unequivocally more likely to be a high-end drug dealer than a casual drug user, you lend a certain degree of class to both endeavors. When I picture a sea goat getting stoned, it is in a club chair surrounded by first edition books, antiques and ink pens. What are they eating? At best, something on a silver platter, at least takeout from somewhere with a decent wine list. They’ve got work to do god–n it and can’t afford to waste time on the ordinary.
Fun fact: Most Aquarians are alien consciousness born into human form, an elaborate contract that enables them to collect data about corruption and lead us towards a higher path. Because of this fact, they are heady AF to get high with and usually subsist on mini marshmallows, blueberries and freeze-dried snacks that can be consumed in space.
The contents of the refrigerator of the average Pisces is like a sad surrealist puzzle — scotch, gummy bears, whipped cream canister devoid of nitrous, homeopathic tincture, half a burrito. Yet, the beauty of the last sign in the zodiac is their ability to make rainbows from ruin or an inspired snack out of an onion bagel shaved of mold, an obscene spackling of Funfetti frosting and a sprinkle of chili crunch. Suspect but satisfying — a Pisces poem.
Astrologer Reda Wigle researches and irreverently reports back on planetary configurations and their effect on each zodiac sign. Her horoscopes integrate history, poetry, pop culture, and personal experience. She is also an accomplished writer who has profiled a variety of artists and performers, as well as extensively chronicled her experiences while traveling. Among the many intriguing topics she has tackled are cemetery etiquette, her love for dive bars, a “girl’s guide” to strip clubs, and the “weirdest” foods available abroad.
