WARNING! WARNING! (Adult Subject Matter)
27 April 2021
Seeing how this is an archival website, I’d like to introduce to my newer 420 readers, a series of essays I did for a non-profit pro-cannabis website out of New York City, some years ago. One that I’ve gotten involved with, back in the year, 2011. The webmistress was the wonderful Arlene Williams aka Ganja Granny. I love her to death! The website, Green Ribbon World, sadly disappeared here recently. I was happy and grateful to be a part.
Please note … regarding this republishing. We’re going back in time. Things were different. I was married for the second time. That union was dissolved one day shy of us being a couple of 22 years. Add the time we dated, and now it’s closer to 25 years. No resentment or hard feelings. I’d rather look forward more than backward.
Versions 2.0 of Uncle G’s Corner… I aim to clean up any remaining typos and grammar errors. Content remains the same as it first appeared. When I’m finally done (this could take some time) archiving all the past essays published, I’ll start writing new ones. In a way, I already have done so: Uncle G’s FUN 420 Reviews.
Gary “Uncle G” Brown (GaryBrown@garyunclegbrownarchives.com)
Date First Published: Thursday, 19 April 2012 at 4:20 PM – Green Ribbon World (DotCom)
Uncle G’s Corner (#16)
Monthly Column: April 2012
For some of us, our whole lives seem like we’d been wronged. Our parents were no good at raising us. Public school education only went so far. For me, it lacked inspiration pretty much throughout the whole ordeal. Was a relief to have finished. I cheated and at age 16, dropped out of traditional high school, and got my GED instead. No real interest to follow that up with college. School, at least until age 16, was nothing more than something that legally I had to do. My penis while in high school, unfortunately, got excited more often, than my brain. Manasquan and Long Branch High Schools, both located in New Jersey, failed me. I was bored silly the majority of my time there. When my education wasn’t any longer an issue, it wasn’t like life got better. For many of us uninspired teens, our first job and every damn one thereafter sucked through a long plastic straw. For many it begins with:
“Would you like an apple pie with that?”
The lovely world of semi-skilled labor. Do you care that some stranger follows up his or her burger with artificial cheese on their fries with a fried dessert? No, for this person isn’t even a memory, five minutes after interacting with them. Following a script. You do it, to get paid. Which is important. In short, money is needed to help us continue the week-to-week cycle. It’s a blue-collar world. As the progressive rock band Emerson, Lake, & Palmer said; welcome back my friends to a show that never ends.
And then there was cannabis.
Taking breaks is important. Especially if one is living a life such as that. A good distraction’s worth its weight in gold; Acapulco Gold. Not all weed has that good a reputation. Just normal pot can’t make all of life’s troubles disappear but it can make one feel somewhat better with themselves as they wash the shit stains of life from their shorts. As long as it’s cannabis, it works. Regardless of whether it’s a premium weed strain or not. It doesn’t have to be the strongest weed, the one with the most THC, for it to be the best.
Some call us potheads. Like it’s a bad thing. We’d been wronged. Our natural buzz was stolen from us and made illegal. Like something made in a lab. The people who helped make the laws the way they are today concerning cannabis, long dead. So tell me, why aren’t their damn laws? Thrown in a kettle that was filled with real evils. Repeat after me; drugs are bad. Period! End of sentence. They are the Alpha and the Omega. Pot being labeled a drug and then stirred in with the horrible ones as if they coexisted with each other. What total bullshit this is! Say I’m wasted, just don’t call me stupid.
Speaking of, politicians don’t normally smoke weed. Not the majority I bet. Never tried it one damn time. More the nerd crowd. This is how they get their revenge. When it comes to marijuana, they act like zombies back before George Romero redefined the word. Repeating whatever words their supporters wish them to:
How can one take for face value anything that comes out of this environment?
I wondered to myself, I said:
“Self…do politicians know the real difference between pot and say cocaine?”
After all, they are lumped into the same class of drugs such as heroin, and opiates. Which implies they all can be the same thing. Including cannabis or what they call marijuana, is wrong. I’ve done most things that they mention. Experience is what I offer with my written opinions. These folks offer fantasy found in comic books. Standing in front of me saying this and my jaw would be open in disbelief. Pot and Cocaine are the same things? The same risks involved doing them? That isn’t true.
Here’s one fact worth repeating. Heroin is physically addicting. I’ve seen guys kick. I remember hearing the horrifying screams in the middle of the night. Covered in sweat. One guy pissed himself. Trashing about in bed all night. Thank god, cannabis doesn’t do any of that.
I regret having a cocaine problem, many years ago. What’s not to love about coke? I would ask myself that while cooking it up in a spoon. Little did I know that my actions were answering the question for me. To start, how the coke got in the spoon, to begin with, was criminal. Nothing after that was good. I stayed up three days once doing cocaine. I finally crashed. Passed out on a Wednesday, and re-opened my eyes on a Friday. The whole day before was gone. Thursday disappeared like it wasn’t even there. Felt bizarre when that sank in. I woke up real thirsty. Dazed and confused for sure.
An “Uncle G” Revelation
I learned to pay more attention to what a person does sometimes and to pay less attention to what they utter aloud. Points more towards the truth. It’s sound advice.
I‘d like to think that over the years I become an individual — instead of being just part of the herd. Never take anything for granted. If most of the population is into something, stay the fuck away from it; for example – the movie Avatar. I’ve always been that way. As big of a film buff that I am, it took me ten years to see Star Wars. To me, it was a GIANT toy commercial. I just had no interest. Besides, I liked Star Trek. Avatar I will never see because I like artist Roger Dean and the music of the progressive rock band, Yes. Just like director James Cameron does, or did.
I‘ve admitted to inhaling Ganja. Just like our current President has already admitted to; lots. You’d think legalizing would be a damn given. Why such an uphill battle?
This Is A FYI Moment: A coke spoon and a spoon to cook coke in are two different things. Just in case you didn’t know. Unless in the year 1986 you carried a bigger one around your neck. Like a kitchen teaspoon. Most people kept theirs in the grove compartment of their car. Who would think?
“Guess what I found. This is it! Aunt Josephine was shooting cocaine into those frail arms of hers. Here’s the kitchen teaspoon that she used to cook her cocaine in. Got it from Sears. I was with her when she brought the set. Funny, all those fucking cotton balls scattered around her house and she never used nail polish. Explains a lot. Oh well, God bless her soul. You know, and I hate to speak ill of the recently departed, but there were stories that she owned and was found next to her bed, a vibrator the size of a horse’s dick. It was a plug-in that was brown in color and had a long electric cord. Was excluded from the estate sale, of course. Most don’t know, but the woman behind closed doors was a real cunt. Strangers loved her. It was all an act. Nastiest to those closest to her. She was a widower, while in her 50s. That’s sad. Here’s a family secret you might not know. One evening, cousin Donna walked by Aunt Josephine’s townhouse. Past her bedroom window. She, of course, peeked inside, being the nosey bitch that she is. There were no window blinds. Donna caught Josephine going at it. One of those things one can’t un-see. You know, the town people would say that the electric lights in people’s homes for blocks around Josephine, would dim every time that woman was feeling amorous. No more of that. When it was time, the Grim Reaper himself, reached down her throat and pulled out her rotten soul. All I can say is all those in Hell must have been trembling in fear, for they had a new arrival, unlike any other monster they had seen before.”
On a lighter note, I’m considering doing edibles. It’s a different cannabis high. As a part recreational weed smoker, I’d like to check it out. An old saying; can’t write a book about baseball unless you played the game. Eat some and then maybe go play Frisbee in the park? If I end up enjoying the experience, I’ll be sure to add it to my list of fun things to do while in Houston, but away from real civilization.
Way back when I has a desire that involved LSD. I always wanted to trip while in the desert. Sand in between my toes. Maybe run around bare ass? Who needs clothes? That means having to go to a real desert first. The state of California has some fine ones. Find a secluded area. Park the car. Drop some acid. See what happens. Maybe, I’ll bring some company? I had this friend; Tim The Drunk. Met him at an Alcoholics Anonymous Meeting. Explains his nickname. Tim and I planned on taking that trip together. He was a huge Doors fan. Liked psychedelics also. At the time I’m also into this BIG Eric Clapton kick. Between every cassette of Clapton’s I could find, I would play The Doors. That was the music rotation back then. Depression lurked around every corner I’m sure.
Oh yeah, my first marriage went to shit at around this time. Living on my own. Had my cat Lola for company. Given to me by, Tim The Drunk. He said once that a guy should always come home to some pussy. I of course was thinking, something else.
Lola took a shit, in the backseat of my car once. Totally emptied her bowels, right on the floor. Very discreetly. No immediate smell. This happened while driving. Lola was in the backseat, of my 1981 Olds Cutlass. I’d sometimes look back at her and there she’d be, this little angel made of fur. In a ball, sleeping. Looking so damn cute. Cats, much like people, can be very deceiving; politicians.
Anyway, Tim The Drunk, and I was part of a small group that hung out before and after A.A. meetings. With us, a lot of times were Susie The Drug Addict and Danny The Over-Eater. We’d sit in diners, places akin to Denny’s, before going home for the evening. This all occurred during the early 1990s. Susie was a sex addict also. Not with me. I always had a problem using a hole that’s been drilled one too many times before. Regardless, a fun gal to hang around sometimes, you know, when she kept her panties on and wasn’t doing any illegal substances. Both Susie and Tim also practiced still getting drunk. Who hasn’t ever fallen off the wagon before? Unfortunately, it happens to those who sincerely desire to stop. With these two it was really hard to tell.
Why is being a daily pot user a crime? Who are we hurting? Millions upon millions smoke or consume one way or another in the year 2012. Pot busts in New York are on the rise. Fifty thousand in the year 2011. For small amounts of pot. It’s a victimless crime. Something magical with weed is that it’s meant to be given away. Take two hits and there is an overwhelming urge to pass it on to another human being. To the person on your right. The three p’s; puff puff – pass. The stories which include the real drugs are at most times horrifying. People blame cannabis for their bad behavior. You read it in the news. A poor excuse, that I’m sure many juries will figure right out.
For everything has an opposite side. Once high, now crashed. Now illegal, but soon legal. Believe that. Pass it on. Say it aloud. Like Ganja Granny sez; keep it lit. Fight the good fight. Don’t get busted in the process, but try doing your part. There are reasons why certain activities are illegal; sex with children. There is no logical reason why cannabis is illegal in the United States, in the year 2012. Believe that and one day pot will just be yet another hand-picked item for our elected officials to add yet another sin tax to it.
In solidarity…onward through the fog,
Note: You may contact “Uncle G”, in care of this website: Ganjagrannysez@greenribbonworld.com
…or try contacting him directly at: UncleGsCorner@gmail.com
01.) Our Website – Green Ribbon World – Please take a moment and sign our guest book/petition. Much appreciated.
02.) The main purpose for writing this every month is so people can read about cannabis in a more positive, and sometimes humorous fashion. If enjoyed, don’t keep it a secret. Make it like a joint…provide the link…..and pass it on. And as always…thank you!
Photo Credits: “Uncle G” Behind Bars by Kevin Landreneau in Dallas Texas (2008) and Lola by Gary Brown.
End of Story
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