Disclaimer

Friday morning I was pretty hungover from my Thursday night exploits, Thursday being the last day of my work week. Typically, I go to the Lucky 13 and drink and smoke; on this Thursday, though, a coworker had a birthday party in the city, so I stayed after work, went to the movies and then made my way to a Chinatown bar where I played Texas Hold'em on my iPhone for an hour before anyone showed up. Then, after having a couple of drinks with my coworker and his friends, I came back to the island and went to the Lucky 13.

My point is, Friday morning ... yeah. So, since Friday's like my Saturday, I medicated myself and decided to watch a movie I had from Netflix called Harold & Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay. As much as the first movie had surprised me, I was surprised again at how hilarious this sequel was. I had a good time - and the film, no bullshit, has some complicated and slyly perceptive things to say about race and hysteria in post-9/11 America, a lot more than most films that purport to be about such things, but I'll let that go.

What I thought was kinda bizarre was that, toward the end of the credits of a movie that is basically a wall-to-wall pot joke, with all kinds of other drugs, sex and violence thrown in, not to mention the usual excretory humor, this was the disclaimer someone felt was needed:

Well, that's a relief. I guess there may have been cigarette smoking in the film, though that's not what's most memorable about it (Kumar's graphic, dream-sequence threesome with his ex-girlfriend and a giant, anthropomorphic bag of weed sticks in my head, though). I wonder if, through some strangulated logic, a bong counts as a "tobacco product" in this instance? I do remember one or two of those...