I Happened by this site at just the right. My partaking of the mystic herb goes back a full thirty years. In this expanse of time no one liked burning one or marathon bonging until my mouth couldn't make words for a while.

Naturally I've acquired a memory shorter than the last roach that burnt my fingers getting that last hit. BUT, I do remember all the noteworthy episodes of cannabis delerium bliss. Never, since nor do I ever expect to have that much fun as I did in my teenage years that spanned from nineteen sixtynine to just barely into the eighties. During this decade the world was just as flakey indecisive as the group of heads in our clique. We never even knew what we had already let alone what was next!

Nixon was prez for some of it. He wanted to go down as the perfect fixer of all the nations woes. Turning on, with anything seemed to be a federal offense. kids were getting the crap knocked out of themselves for merely taking a toke or two. Then Tricky Dicky (our term of endearment for a fine totalitarian, power starved egomaniacal tyrant) had a brainstorm he convinced the south americans that were so proudly producing most of the buds found in tha country to spray all thier glowing green and gold pot fields with a toxin called paraquat Supposedly this stuff was leaking into the country via greedy slime balls like the FBI and the CIA or anyof the dozens of special ops. causes in the federal cesspool called the government. democrocy came only to those that could afford it and some fed. agencies would strip the populace of whatever it took to bankroll thier little piece of it. Well the paraquat scare came and went with little fanfare and was soon forgotten.

Then there was the times when weed was everywhere and everbody was a dealer. Me being no different,had never less than a pound or two stashed in my parents house. sometimes I'd cut up a few lids to sell while I was out to the foozeball parlor or wherever I was headed that particular night. on the day I'm going to tello you about I had stashed acouple of bags behind a loosened bourd in the stairwell leading into the attic. When I went to get them only the bags were left wsith holes chewed in the ends by what appeared to be mice or rats. I laughed it off and accepted the loss. Well, it was more than twenty years before I was told the truth. My younger brother Danny had foun them and schemed the perfect plan to rob me (RODENT IMPERSINATION) the suspects living in the walls and other substructures.He knew I wouldn't kick his ass if I didn't think he did it.Well I wish I never found out the truth no one would've ever told me had Danny not died one November afternoon on our fathers bathroom floor with a needle in his arm and some junkie so called friends emmptying his pockets of all his money and the rest of the good shit that killed him. Wow what a score for those pathetic bastards!

I was going to retaliate but then I realized it was his choice and he knew the risks and consequences. This is the U.S.A. LAND OF OPPORTUNITY HOME OF THE OPPORTUNIST taking advantage of every situation is our patriotic duty. I miss my brother.

Getting late more to follow thanks for listening

yours truly,

Kabamoty
06/07/02