Tour de Force of Amsterdam Coffeeshops

The first time I came to Amsterdam, I was on an interrail. I was not there just for the weed, but to be educated.

This time I went for both pleasure and research. This is my own mini-version of “Super High” me…..

Day 1 – Arrival
1. Dampkring.

Tourists passing out.
No hat policy inside. In a backstreet. Hidden. No view. Small. Always full.
OK weed. C5 13 Euros, and super silver haze joint. (Medical Uses: Pain relief, glaucoma, migraines, depression, muscle spasms.) silver haze prerolled. Trippy. Bonghit with C5 (Medical Uses: Depression, glaucoma, migraines, arthritis) hit my throat with bullets of sand paper.

Was tired from little sleep, and the travel. Don’t call it “journey” unless you want to include the journey you take in your mind from one place to another. A flight is just flight. The journey you do in your mind goes way deeper. And further.
Still managed to keep things up. Tried to hit the bong with my C5 (Medical Uses: Depression, glaucoma, migraines, arthritis). Blew me over as I have a sore throat.
Was soon getting euforic. The world outside became distant, yet I was fully aware of all. Longed for a couch, a better company, and better music.

Got the munchies big time. Didn’t eat all day save from a bag of chips on the plane. Went to an Argentinian steak house after some confusion about directions (as normal when high and deliriously hungry).
Had a combo of sirloin and tenderloin.

2. Smokey.

Larger area. More sitting places on the inside and out. View of the sqare. Serves beer as well.
Two prerolled joints. White Widow (hybrid – Medical Uses: Pain relief, arthritis, migraines, nausea, anorexia, diabetes, muscle spasms, anxiety) & 1 Black Bombay (Indica dominant) for sleep later. Was still good and fucked on the other weed. And stuffed from the steaks.
Had two pints and coke. Mind getting weird. Reading Jean Genet. Mind getting weirder. Miss a fucking pen. A girl sitting on the outside reminds me of someone. Someone I once knew closely. Or at least thought I did. Strange lad sitting next to me looking strange on me. “Fuck off” I thought. Trying to read the deeply disturbing pages of Jean Genet.
Got something in common with the old sodomite.
We’re both homeless. Perhaps in more than one way. While he was the “moncule” in any sexual setting, my only sexual pleasure, is the ones I have given myself since 2012. And I’m TRYING to be a writer. Or perhaps already am and I’m trying to escape from it. Even when your’e not putting words down on paper constantly, your mind does. While the brain meat works constantly, even when I’m stoned, there’s a disconnect between the hard drive and the software.
Only booze have at least oiled the machine for a little while. Don’t like the fucking hangovers, and the bloody anxiety that comes with hangovers. Drinking more, only gives me gas, and worse stomach.
Gotta find my mojo. Gotta find it with weed. That’s why I was going to Amsterdam in the first place. Went to Amsterdam, blew my brain meat out, and became a fucking genius.

Went back to the hotel, tired and stuffed. It was rainy and cold…and dark…nothing more…
Toothache came back after going to bed. Went to the reception and got two paracetamols. Smoked a black bombay for maximum effect and sleep.

Day 2.

Rockband coffeeeshop
Bubble Gum (Medical Uses: Pain relief, muscle spasms, asthma, inflammation) – for later tonight.

Amnesia. coffeeshop

purchased:
1 pre-rolled joint of a house mix of several different strains:
Red Cherry Berry Strain
Pineapple chunk
N.Y.C.D.
laughing buddha
amnesia lemon
vanilla kush

1 bag of Liberty Haze – a cross breed of Amnesia Haze & Amnesia Lemon.

Already had my morning splif – a pre-rolled Amnesia House Mix of red cherry berry, pineapple skunk, “N.Y.C.D”, Laughing Buddha, Amnesia Lemon and Vanilla Kush. Most likely randomly mixed together as leftovers…Got in a bit of a writers push. Not yet there, where I need to be.
Now, I had my first tokes of this, and it hit me like a hammer….
I also bought a space cake. I have at least one or two more coffeeshops to visit, with at lest 2 strains to try from each today. This is going to be interesting.
A Journemans Tour de Force through Amsterdams coffeeshops while trying to get his fucking writers mojo back….
It it me like a truck. Two tokes, and my head was going straight into space.
Not for first timers….
Like said, this is foing to be interesting. It’s only my 2nd day here, since I already managed to squeese two coffeeshops in last night and a steak dinner.
This is going to be a long week in clouds of smoke.
Wonder if I have time for a visit to any “useful” places…
I sat at the bar stool all afternoon. Chatted with the nice looking Polish bar girl. We were talking about smoking off course, and finding the perfect spot to get wasted.
Somehow in a context, she said
I’ll smoke a joint with you”. And I cannot even remember bringing it up in the first place.
So I waited to her shift was over. Even though I was getting the munchies. I allready had two cokes, a couple hot chocolates, and a mango juice.
The lst hour before her shift was over, we seemed to connect only for a moment when she turned over and smiled at my direction. Was I back into the flirting game, and just fell into this?
I was ready with another joint of the Amnesia/Lemon mix.
She gave me some pointers to smart shops where I could get some troufles.
After little while, a shared joint, she was tired and went home. I needed meal, and find some other places she could recommend.
As we parted we introduced outrselves to each other by name. She told me she would work on Thursday.
She gave me her name once. In my haze I cannot remember it anymore. At least I could get to know it again in two days.

I found another Argentinian restaurant with expencive steaks a few blocks and a canal way. Not far from a small pearl string of coffeeshops my new friend told me about.
Ordered another tenderloin like yesterday. A beer and a coke.
Chocolate mousse with ice cream and cream with chocolate sauce. Just like when I was a kid, and felt like king on board M/S Sunward 2 in Caribean 20 years earlier.
Irish coffee as an upper.

Bulldog Lounge
Not much. Had Wifi andplug socket.
Didn’t buy anything. Not recommended by my expertese.

The Doors.
Did not have Wifi, or plug socket. Purchased:
Ws recommended, but felt bit stranded, and a bit tired.

Power Plant pre-rolled.
Morisson Haze bag. 80% Sativa, 20% Indica

Siberie

Mentioned in Best Coffeeshops as well.

Purchased Thai joint.

Set up my laptop. Browsed for a while. Got quickly bored as I puffed away. Strange vibed.
Wanted to go somewhere else. Wanted to feel fresh air. Find another setting. It wq
as getting dark.
Soon I was walking down the canal back towards Amnesia. I realized that I had forgotten my spce cake there. If I was lucky, the nice lady behind the counter would have taken care of it.

She did.
“Excellent. I needed that for a snack before bed” I said to her.
“I thought of the same thing if you didn’t show up”, she smiled back at me.

Releived, I could start searching for the Grey Area. Found it quickly. But it was closed.

Found a tram to either go back to the hotel, or to do one last stop. Me head was swimming in THC. A cocktail of sativa, indica, CBD. A dozen different brands. Some of them not even mentioned here.
Went off after Rembrandtplein. Wanted to find Old Amsterdam as a last stop.
Instead, I saw another blinking sign luring me in it’s direction.
Green House Coffeeshop it said. Soon _I found myself inside in a conversation with the dealer about what strain is good as pain killer, and for sleeping.

Purchased:

Diamond girls. He recommended this for my tooth aches. It has helped him before he could inform me.

Jack Herer. Tons of indica. After a full day stuffing my head meat with psychedelic sativa, it was time for a downer.

Smoked the Jack after coming back to the hotel. Felt the body start feeling heavy. So did my eyelids.

Though, it was a bit hard falling asleep immediately. Started also feeling a bit pain in my tooth.
Went up, went out, and started smoking a few tokes of Diamond girls pain relief. It had almost an immedetiate effect. A bit head high.
Went over to the saved Bubble Gum. This seemed better than Jack, or worked on top of the Jack. Half a joint later, I was ready to crash.

Day 3.

History lesson at the defense museum.
At least one thing I haven’t done before. Though ww2 history seems repetitive after the long run 15 years ago.

Found Old Amsterdam. It was a disappointment vibe wise. Small. A typical drop in place. Not a typical hang out place for either tourists or locals.

Purchased Candy Cush for sleep.
Weed.

Went back to the Green House and purchased Arjan’s Ultra haze#2.

Ate yet another steak dinner on my way there.

Abraxia.

Purchased: Hawaiian Super Pollen and a hash pollum ready rolled for sleep later. They did label each bag with the name of the strain. Which is good, so you don’t have to write it down with a marker that will smear.
Dealer seemed to have this typical hard rock/hippie arrogance towards some young tourists when asking for ID. This guy seems to only respond in due kind – show the bastard you’re not a first timer, and on a mission to gain an ounce of respect. When intros was done, and I have made my choice, I said I would be expecting Stones or Pink Floyd on my return from the steak dinner.
Chatted with some comedians upstairs…

Was chatting with an elderly couple from Arizona. I suggested how funny it is that RWers whine about “big government” and “nanny state” to get out of their lives, but cheer when young black men are going to prison for weed. As they are now FOR big governments, dictating, controlling and imposing what you as an individual can and cannot put in your own body.

420 Cafe. On my way to Baba and the Red Light District, I stumbled upon 420 Cafe.

Purchased:
Neville’s Haze. Rolled up some Candy Cush. and smoked some of the other strains brought with me.

Had internet and power socket.

Day 4:

Tired when woke up. 3 straight days of heavy smoking of the real deal. However much I smoke at home, the quality is never the same.
Found Reefer on my way to Bluebird.

No matter how much I wish, a coffeeshop will never be the same as an Irish pub – in Ireland that is. A mix of the atmosphere and clientelle of an Irish pub, and a trippy Amsterdam coffeeshop would be Nirvana. With Greek prices, and all would be perfect.

What I have learned these days, is that coffeeshops for locals are not much like the local pub, as it is a nearby a convenient store. Or a super market as the dealer at Green House frazed it.

I have also learned the major difference between hashish and weed is indeed the body and mind effect regardless of the THC balance of indica and sativa.
We also react differently to different strains on an individual basis. While some first timers would not feel any effect of the cannabis and never try again, while others “get it” the first time.
Scientifically it’s hard to explain. It seems that the endocannabinoids are not activated for some people, and one would need at least one time to activate these components to feel an effect, while others have this activated allready.

Today, I have consumed a half a medicine for my tooth ache, and one space cake with 1-2 gram of cannabis oil (hashish) before stopping by Reefer Cafè.
I am now smoking Bio Blue Cheese and having a mango juice. They have Wifi and power sockets here. Friendly staff. Only a few minutes walk from Niewmarkt and one minute away from Bluebird. Which will be the next stop before I eventually will try to venture on back to Amnesia for hopefully a little rendevoux before the clock hits 4.

At least I’m wearing sandals today.

Stopped by Newbird for some Sog Kush (which will be smoked now) at Amnesia.

I’m still buzzed from the Hawaiian Haze I finished 15 minutes ago.

I stop by a small coffeeshop with a smoking area. Came by surprise. Considering Bob Marley Smoke. Head on further.
Freeworld is another stop on the way. The coffeeshops seem not to be far between now. I look in, but do have a schedule, and need to get a new 3 day travel pass before heading back to Amnesia to get another impression.

I sit there for a few hours before heading off to the Red Light District…For the first time in 15 years.
Has it changed much? I’m in a constant buzz now. And getting hungry. The one hotdog earlier didn’t fill up much, and wasn’t any good either.
Wanted a Chinese this time. Stopped by Baba. The reviews seemed to be conflicting. With a sort of Hindu theme it’s an amusement park for kids. Or as I frazed it to some Americans earlier that day, the whole city is Disneyland for hippies, freaks and pot heads from around the world – but Americans in particular.
I spent some time there before stopping at another small place
Walked to the end of the street, and turned right at the end of Warmoestraat to the canal and walked towards Oude Kerk.
Place: Feelgood
Purchase: F9 Patent Haze.
Moved quickly on.

Finally I was there. The Mekka of coffeeshops. Bulldog #90. the first. I was very well received when stating my (in some eyes bizarre) errand.
“Welcome home” the doorman greeted me at the door.
The hype. The franchises around town, and another one coming in Colorado, the original bulldog is still a must go to place.
The end of the 4th day was going to be spent in the Vatican for pot heads. The Mecca of hippies. The canal the Ganges for sacred herb worshippers. I did plan to take an early night. I was getting worn out.4 days of blowing my brains out on the best weed, walking around high, getting something to eat, finding the next place to get stoned.
Listening to stories, ending up with self absorbed digressions and reminiscense.
I shared tables with a couple (guy living in London from Jordan, and a girl from Dubai living in Amsterdam), a Belgian lad, and a German).
Throwing out bad jokes here and there.
Doug Benson can blow me.
The company seems excellent. And diverse. I find a place next to the window, between two tables, and other travellers more than happy to strike up a conversation. Some weed are made for this. Spezially the stronger haze types for the intelligent, mature pot head.
The view of the canal was excellent, the conversations from the most clichè (enjoy Amsterdam, where are you from,

Day 5

Smoke Palace

Purchased: All Mighty Ganja

Woke earlier than expected as I was late last night. The THC was still hanging in there. Went out, smoked some medicinal, and it was better. Went up to my room to plan the day.

A sort of long route on the outskirts of the city centre. From Osterpark to Leidsplein.

Are now smoking something I rolled last night for today, and will roll the OMG haze before lunch and moving on.

Plus: have Wifi, and power sockets underneath every single table on the inside.
They say it has pool tables on the inside. Must have changed that now, and have gotten cafè/pub tables instead with wall to wall leather couch, and screens on the wall, where music vids are being played or a selection of 60’s music.

In that perspective, the interior does not match the music flavor. It’s midday, so the place is still quiet.

The haze I rolled last night is starting to kick in. 4 hard days of research. Head is swimming in THC. Some people in Norway would call this an irresponsible drugs binge that will eat up my brain meat. Au contraire. Despite the fact that at times, I feel a bit fried in the mornings, it’s as far as bad as a real hangover from a whisky binge.

And as far as the extended effects on the environment of the two, I have never done or said anything I regret, or should have a reason to regret as I have on booze – or even beer (when the drinking have become heavy).
Just ask some of my ex. girlfriends. If they could only see me now. A bit thinner, new teeth, looks like I’ve gone a few of Dante’s 9 circles of hell, but not a shell of a man with booze running through my vains. Instead, my head is swimming in Sativa and Indica.
I think I have found some excellent strains for writing – to replace the whisky I purchased on my way home from Las Palmas last week.

I’ve started practicing what I preached to my fellow tenants, the insane couple (among others) I shared house with in Dublin not to give a shit.

Smoke Palace:
Very little, and old customer reviews of the place.
Good: Wifi, and wall sockets at each table.
Possible to purchse samples (0.5 grams)

It’s easy to melt in with the weed rolled last nigth to the screens where 60s Motown and Beatles is being played.
So the Amsterdam Tourist Info was right. They have made an effort to acommodate travelers and people with their offices with them.

Bulldog Palace

Took tram #4 5 stops to search for Mellow Yellow. It was closed. Was only open from 6pm to 1am on weekdays and from 7am to 1 am in the weekends.

So I took the next tram to Leidsplein and the mythological Bulldog Palace, situated in what was once a police station. Opened 10 years after the original.

The whole place seem more like a super market, long lines a crowded square and the munchie restaurants with pubs right next.

I didn’t stay there long.

No socket for PC chargers. Smoked a pre-rolled with sativa.

Went to Dolphin down the street. The staff seemed stressed there. It was small, and they seemed equally focused on getting customers seated as to serve the ones waiting at the bar for drinks and smoke.

Internet was down, and no wall socket. The self proclaimed “we’re the best” by one of the staff is not quite correct.

Smoked a small pre-rolled, a White Dolphin strain. Perhaps one of their own.
I was getting restless. Wanted to end my 5th night down by the Oude Kerk as last night. And get a better meal than the crummy whopper meal at Burger King.

I was getting tired. Head meat swimming in THC. Have tried more strains that I can name on top of the shell of my head meat.

Tonight will be an early night.
Found a side street with a small coffeshop and plenty restaurants.
Isn’t that amazing?
Right next to a coffeeshop, you find two steak houses (bragging about having Argentinian steaks), an Italian, a small diner, and a Chinese place.

Or the ingenius cake shop right across from one coffeeshop.

Wanted something different than “Argentinian” steak. My tongue lusted for slithering, while eels going down to the throat. Pasta it was.
Pasta Primo, or Pizza Primo lies right next to one of the roads going from Leidsplein to Rokin that again leads to Dam Square.

But as they say, no pasta is the one mama used to make…

On my way to Bulldog (wanted to relax by the river before heading early back to Rembrandt.

Right in front of me, Kadinsky lay waiting.

Not the most impressive or cosy coffeeshop, but I had to take this oportunity. Purchased Maui Haze in which I rolled immediately for later.

Kadinsky: Maui Haze

Green House Centrum was right at where Bulldog is. It also looked familiar from the last time I was here, and wasn’t alone. It just brushed off of me the last time. I was here on a completely different mission, and from time perspective a hell of a lot important – than to reminiscense from old romantic flings not proving to be worth much more than just that.
Didn’t purchase anything but a hot chocolate and a coke. It was after 8, and I was getting deadly tired. I must have smoked at least some Indica during the day, because my head felt heavy at times.

Found a Smart shop as well. Got some troufles for use tomorrow.

I walked back to the hotel this time.
As someone asking me how much weed I have been smoking, I answered “Who the hell counts anymore! I stopped counting the last coffeeshop I went to.”

For some strange reason, I managed to walk back to the hotel even with a few detours this time as well. Amsterdam takes some time to get used to when you’re high, walking the streets this time, and not melting into a couch at home.

Fell asleep round midnight….

Day 6

Was planning to take the last day off, doing some maritime shit instead. Like going to the maritime museum and visit the old merchant ship.

Woke up early. Started the day with a joint. Went back to my room, while the Sativa was working.
Relaxed a few hours, did some research, and found a string of coffeeshops right across the canal towards Rembrandt plein.
Suddenly there was a change of plans.

It was right back to the dark, smokey shops and cafès in the nearby area to try shit not tried before, and more shops to test their user friendliness.

Hortos De Overkant.
Purchased:
New York Diesel
Pre-rolled hashish.
Right across the brigde towards city center, there’s a small coffeeshop at the corner Muiderstraat and Herengracht.
Follow the canal from there towards Rembrandt Plein, and you’ll get a nice walk after toking up at the shop first.
Got a half a gram of NY Diesel and pre-rolled hashish I cannot remember the name of.

I went this way until I found Sevilla.
Purchased:
White Rhino (pre-rolled indica) weed
Chocoloco half gram weighted.

Cosy little place. Dark interior. Like sitting in a movie theater.
Do have Wifi. Wall socket for charger.
Poor music choice,
Clean.

Old Church
Jack Herrer. Rolled it there for later.

The Saint (around the corner facing the canal)

Hash specialist.

Purchased: Pre-rolled Maroc
Pre-rolle Amnesia Haze

Have just eaten the magic troufles. It’s 10 to 5 PM. This may seem to become quite an intereseting afternoon. Wandering from coffeeshop to coffeeshop nearby high as a fucking kite on troufles and haze….

Bushdocter: 2gr. minimum, no internet, only one seating table as I saw.

Andalucia. Almost hidden. No internet. Two floors if seats. Dark/grey. Not very inviting.

Maroc pre-rolled.
A medium haze.

Want to find a place to chill, and watch the canal with quiet ambient music in the background.
Balou, Barney’s Lounge and Stix to go, and then I’m done. All within walking distance from Plantage Middenlaan where there’s an option ofmid range priced hotels.

Balou: AK47

From there, you have another Bushdocter. Purchased Blueberry joint. Excellent taste. Hits you good, and make your head meat work again.
Sat for a few minutes enjoying the joint. There is possible to do two things at the same time while smoking weed: walk, find directions, and THINK what’s important in your life and what is not. You are in fact able to do this awful thing government claims they want you to do in school: To Think.

From there, I went to the legendary Barney’s Farm. This is where I have settled down with a hot chocolate and a coke, while smoking the rest of my Blueberry.

On the minus side, they don’t have internet. But have wall sockets. Which is not necessarily bady bad, since you can then focus more on your own shit instead of sniffing on everybody elses shit.
They sell half grams, and it’s not as crowded as the original too close to Central station. And they play Stones, and old punk…

Got some measured Utopian Haze…
Will roll it now. The troufles are supposed to have kicked in. Not easy to say. I’m in a haze already….

I like the environment. Clean. Old. Fresh. Miss some tables on the outside. Outside is a canal It’s like sitting inside a wall, watching a movie be played outside.

Have one more stop.

This seem to have been the most effective day of them all. Managed to lay out a plan this morning instead of just following the guide book, to go directly to the directory with ALL coffeeshops in Amsterdam.

And now, I’m sitting, tripping inside Barney’s on medium strength magic troufles, listening to Stones, smoking something I rolled last night, and about to begin with the Utopian Haze. It’s 7.15 pm. Ziggy Stardust is on.

Have rolled a New York Diesel as I leave….

I’m getting the munchies. And cannot seem to find the last place on the list.
The trip is getting more intense as I sit and wait for my last meal in Amsterdam. Like said, this will be interesting when having my head drowning in Sativa and Indica.

Heard about one girl collapsing outside Barney’s after mixing weed with magic troufles…
I guess she was not prepared. Or haven’t crawled out of Willy Nelson’s beard yet.

How obvious is it?
How will I react? When will the gila monsters crawl out of the woodworks?
The salesman said I should choose a midle strengt, for my experience and a good haze would go excellent together with the 10 grams. And now I hear that some yong chick passes out after a troufle and joint trip?
And the bud tender said “it looks like you’re well into the trip already” with a smirky smile and Scottish accent.
And as on a que, two hours after I ate the damn thing, I got struck. A wave of….something….like a trip to India, and people who’s never been there ask what exactly it is about India.
And we say “you just have to go and see and smell and feel for yourself”…
Is this what this troufle trip is?
Or does it feel like I jave just drunk a case of beer within 10 minutes, and now the effects are starting to kick in?

The lamb was a typical French pot with Spanish Chorizo with red wine sauce. Aren’t I the continental gourmet?
The dessert looked like a piece of art in itself. A chocolate mousse with crocain ice, and orange sauce…

9 months ago I was starving in Athens. With a bone fracture, and jaw fracture, wondering how to get out of there…

Now, I tripping on troufles, smoking my brains out on Amnesia haze, stuffing my gills with lamb with garlic in red wine sauce, and ice cream only a few joint puffs away from Red Light District in Amsterdam….

The place I couldn’t find was almost right next to the restaurant. It looked just like a pharmacy, with an extencive menu. Unfortunately I didn’t take any with me, as I was stashed up on at least 6 different strains already.

The troufles are apparently wearing off.

I’ve found my seat at the Green House by Waterlooplein.

Little did I know until the night before that Green House is somehow linked to Strain Hunters. Some locals travelling around the world to find the best strains from Africa to India and Caribean.
I have 7 joints to finish before I head off to the airport tomorrow.
Most of the indica dominant, so I will fall asleep fast.
In fact, I will enjoy the small walk to the hotell in the dark of night with an indica soothing my fried brain meat.

I have noticed something this week. I have hardly touched alcohol. Only for meals, and the first night, where I had one pint at Smokey’s after my first meal on Monday. Not even a pub crawl had room in my journey into the mists of Amnesia.

Oh, my. How time flies when you’re having fun. It’s been a Disneyland of colors, tastes and smells in psychedelialand.

I’m back at the hotel room. Got 6 joints, mostly pure to smoke before my flight tomorrow.

At least 3 of them heavy on the indica – all hashish. Which reminds me, I must try Temple Hash the next time I’m here.

Day 7

Departure.

I smoked my brains out last night on hashish and strong indica weed,
Fell asleep around 3am with still 3 joints to go.

I smoked my AK47 before packing my few things and checked out. Wanted to walk the distance to the train station while smoking my shit.
Stopped by Newmarket and Hill Street Blues. There were 3 coffeeshop almost next to each other. Only had time and cash for one stop and something that would keep me going for the next few hours.

Purchased: A super mix of Amnesia, Lemon and Super Silver haze.
Had some of it before heading on with the joint in my hand feeling the surge from the weed, the canals and the fact that I was going home high and stoned like a motherfucker.
Having a Maroc as I write. Sitting at Voyager with a hint of the old travel excitement.
I will finish off with a strong White Rhino. This will be an interesting experience.
As if I have never travelled stoned like a rock before.
But somehow, I wish I could sit on a train, and live only a few hours away. Airports are a hazzle.
George Carlin was right. Airport security is ridicolous. So is prohibition for that matter. But if it wasn’t for prohibition, I would not have come to Amsterdam for this purpose. There would only be a rich history with guided tours around the old Red Light District and hookers to be the extra attraction.

The couple right next to me who missed their flight was trying to do their best to rearrqnge things through internet while they were smoking the doobie.

A couple of women tucked in an old bastard who looked two yers older than Moses declaring to him that the tobacco was bad for him, and to stick with the pure weed instead. They hve just rrived from the “land of the free” to get some legal weed for an oldie who’s been smoking the shit before the ladies were born.

It was hilarious. They have just arrived to feed their old granddad with weed, while I was on my way back to the country of prohibtion with the heavy THC working like a well oiled machine before I headed off to the trainstation ready to meet “Big Brother” again due to people’s fear of uncertainty and adventure when they travel.

They would rather give up their right to carry a bottle of water through security than to have a nasty man blow up a plane with the help of CO2..

What a fucking progress we have, eh?

I’m deliriously happy to actually experience an Orwellian society in action.

I think I will bring with me some weed back to this pre- stonehenge country of stupidity the next time I’m in Amsterdam to take another joyride of the psychedelia of the canals…
My government aqs of these days can go fuck themselves.

And I ain’t going to rest until they have received the THC their brain meat is in such desperate need of…

By the way: I’m toking up right fucking now!!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s