In the land of grass and hazy skies,
Where athletes trained with bloodshot eyes,
The Stoned Olympics came to town,
With couch potatoes dressed in crowns.
They toed the line for the 100-meter dash,
But first, they snacked on some tasty hash;
With brownies stacked and gummy bears,
They questioned life and cosmic affairs.
The race began, but oh, what a sight,
One runner tripped, then took a flight;
He soared through clouds, with dreadlocked hair,
“I’m winning!” he yelled, lost in the air.
In synchronized swimming, they floated with glee,
Diving through waves of marshmallowy spree;
But when they forgot to come up for air,
The lifeguards all laughed, a groovy affair.
Next up was the high jump, a test of pure grace,
But they leaped too far, thanks to that space,
They touched the stars, then came crashing down,
Bouncing back up, in a cloud they were found.
With every event, the crowd let out roars,
As competitors tumbled and rolled on the floors;
“Is this even a sport?” the commentators squealed,
As athletes took breaks to refuel and yield.
The final event—the “Slowest Race Ever,”
Made them ponder, “How’s it… whatever?”
With snacks in hand and giggles galore,
They crossed the line and just wanted more.
So raise a joint to this whimsical game,
Where everyone’s stoned but the fun’s still the same;
For in the Stoned Olympics, we all truly win,
With laughter and love and a lifetime of grins!
Hazy Humor is licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0
