Remember that post not too long ago in which I described the frustrations my German wife and I experienced trying to grow rhododendrons in our back yard? That was an example of the kind of quotes which make my wife so unintentionally hilarious. This post, however, is an example of Denglish at it’s finest… and potentially most illegal.
What we’re talking about here is marijuana. Cannabis. Pot. Weed. Reefer buds. The Green Meany. Matanuska Thunderfuck. Whatever you want to call it, marijuana is still illegal in Germany. Oh sure, the Federal Institute for Drugs and Medical Devices (Bundesinstitut für Arzneimittel und Medizinprodukte, AKA: BfArM) has granted medical licenses for about 400 people with terminal cancer to grow it, but in a country with a populace of 80 million, that’s like 0.0005% of the population — and all of them are fucked.
It’s definitely illegal to walk around with weed on you, but if you’re arrested for it in Germany and you happen to have just a little bit, the cops and lawyers won’t do anything but laugh at you. NOTE: A “little” bit varies from state to state: In smelly, hipster places like Berlin, you might not even get a fine for anything less than 15 grams. But in states run by uptight nerds who sit down to pee, you’re only safe with about 5 grams. (I’m looking at you, Bavaria.)
Anyway, my wife and I did a lot of gardening last summer. We planted all sorts of things in our raised beds — all of them perfectly legal, NSA, BND or whoever else might be reading this — and I suggested it might be fun to start some potted plants, like blueberries or tomatoes, so we could bring them inside during winter if we wanted to. My wife nodded, stroking her chin sagely and gazing out over our garden as the sun began to set, saying:
“Yes, we should grow some pot plants.”*
*From the German word, “Topfpflanzen,” (literally, “pot-plants”) which refers to plants grown in pots. (We Americans typically call them “potted plants,” but my wife’s version is way more awesome.)