Tag Archives: marijuana


~ 0 ~
SFO in the early morning
triple couple brunch date
SFO in the afternoon
yellow fever film
SFO late at night
Japanese, Mexican, American, or Chinese?

~ 1 ~
Hank Williams on the
turbulent red-eye
flashlights in the early morning
United Club at IAD
hella babies on the
flight to Jamaica
the first Jamaican woman to speak to/about me:
“it’s not fair. he’s not even using it,”
referencing my hair
all customs agents are the same stern
accosted by taxi drivers
one is hella chill so we go w him ($15)
he walks slow as hell
“we grow up w weed”
tried to sell me some but his guy is out
Caribic House
gentleman clerk
third floor balcony view of the sea
buy weed from souvenir shop ($20 for crap)
Pork Pit
buy weed from random vagrant (J$200 for crap)

~ 2 ~
breakfast at the Mocha Cafe
Knutsford Express to Negril
buy Blue Cheese from taxi driver ($5 for quality)
Yoga Centre
stroll and smoke along the beach
the German dude
yoga in the evening
shower and drinks
Alfred’s Ocean Palace
couple drinks and cricket at the Sunrise

~ 3 ~
smoothies and breakfast at the YC
chillin on the beach
spring rolls and papaya salad
Natalie naps / Americanah
drinks at One Love bar
curried conch w rice & peas at sweet spot

~ 4 ~
goodbye YC & Negril
KE to Kingston
wild winding ride east
the big city
the Spanish Court,
free rum punch on arrival
walking in the rain to
Devon House
coffee for her, coffee i-scream for me
walking in the lightening rain
Natalie goes chic in the city
divine Indian at Nirvanna

~ 5 ~
free breakfast: eggs, platanos, festival, bacon, fruit, coffee, water
taxi drive with a former yam farmer to
the National Gallery of Jamaica
walk through saturday downtown market
taxi to the grocery
Tashanna the angel
Natalie runs on the treadmill, i walk to KE
sunset swimming in the freezing infinity pool
hot bath w love
shower the hair
dress and small dinner
last home drink
up up up the hill to
dub club
smoky dub music in the clouds
saw fireworks
and popcorn
and dancing
circles, circling back to a
champagne glass next to the drivers seat
flask of herb wine next to mine
slowly, slithering back to New Kingston
in the nighttime of a new day

~ 6 ~
free breakfast: kitchen sink omelet, fruit, coffee, water, festival, platanos, and a complimentary mimosa
walking to the banks, several failed withdrawals
packing up
waiting for Robert
red shirt, tan truck, big smile
cash out
ride up
the treehouse
the tour
the pool and trail
dinner at 6?
acki and shellfish, peas and rice, greens not calaloo
reading and drinking
scrabble in bed under the net
never ending music for a wake, then an end

~ 7 ~
wake up puffy eyed a little before 9
shirtless on the balcony
big rainbow across the sky
Chef says breakfast is on the way
coffee, scrambled eggs w veggies, fried plantains, breadfruit (looked like dry pineapple slices), slices of mango, a peeled orange, everything fresh, juicy, lovely
more coffee, Bobby and Chef smoking
driving to Holywell
the waterfall hike
smoke at the falls
kiss on the hills
walk to David’s coffee plantation
the Chinese crew, little kids giggling and playing games, the two big dogs loafing and eyeing everyone, the coffee man deeply darkened by the sun yet profoundly lightened by endless cups of coffee
walking back home
Natalie’s forgotten R1: the run
gap cafe too fancy
walk thru the military yard
flask of clear rum, water, cheese puffs, and chocolates at the bubbles stop
walk home
cold shower (Ginger on drums)
wifi, soup, and dinner (more Fela)
seafish, fried carrots and greens, potato, yams, plantains
greasy spliff
drinks and reading

~ 8 ~
up a little earlier, round 830
coffee and breakfast on the taller balcony
acki and fish, breadfruit, fried plantains, papaya, orange
reading reading reading
the ride to Craighton
the $25 tour w Jerome
280,000 coffee plants—arabica not robusta—the latter 52% of the world coffee, the former 48%—though like the #1 most traded good (oil), the #2 (coffee) is often adulterated as there’s no standard nor authority—and Blue Mountain arabica is something special, with 70% of its sales going to wealthy Japanese—Jamaicans themselves drink instant coffee—unless they’re like Robert—usually Arabica ripens in 5-7 months, in Blue Mountains it takes 9-11—juicier, sweeter—Twyman and other north side farmers get less sun so their harvest is shorter
three cups of coffee after the lesson
walk to red light
bananas and coconut snack from the roadside rasta
walk from red light
Natalie loses her shades
hitching a ride w the 33 year old who spent 20 years living in Kingston before moving to London, comes back to visit family every xmas, warned us of the dangers of hitch hiking
eits cafe
walking up and a ride w David, bobby’s coz
walking to prince valley
glasses for a drink and phone
meeting, laughing, smoking w omero from Oakland and Tazia from near Kingston
drinks and dinner: beans, greens, and pumpkin rice, perfection
beer and adieu
reading, reading, hearts, reading

~ 9 ~
up a little earlier, around 815
Ovid on the balcony
coffee and breakfast in the usual spot
acki and fish, plantains, coco bread
packing up and paying
dj dale down the mountain
bob Marley museum
best dinner (fried chicken, beef stew, pork stew, or curried goat?) plus rum
two wedding episodes of friends

~ 10 ~
coffee, toast, and fruit on the balcony
Mahogany Beach
food and drink on James (same menu)
crazy dance boat party TV
Turtle Beach
souvenir shopping i
drinks on James
moms restaurant (fish stew)

~ 11 ~
coffee, toast, and fruit on the balcony
souvenir shopping ii
passage to passage to India (naan, South Indian chicken, chicken tikka masala)
chilling at KE
KE to Mo Bay
El Greco, cocktail on arrival
cocktails and joint on the balcony (Half Pint)
bellboy escort to room, J$400
atm, the old walk
1/2 lb ribs at pork pit
the walk back
another round

~ 12 ~
up around 8
finished Herzog
breakfast: one American, one Jamaican (mine is fried fish, greens, small banana, yucca, dumpling, and Nat’s French toast)
old white retired everywhere
blacks go J, whites go A
down to the street, rum up
packing, Brilliant Corners, checking out
smoke on the cliff side
delayed flight
walk down to the park shade
bk fries
taxi to airport
lines, lines, food court, hearts
exit row flight
chaos at CLT Continue reading

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The term is generally applied to alcohol, barbiturates, amphetamines, THC, PCP, cocaine, and heroin but also includes caffeine in coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee

why yes, i did just let a man stick a needle in my eyelid and inject steroids. why, you ask? oh, because i trust him.

now, with a swollen lower right lid, i barely sit up—almost lie—in my bed, watching the curtains blow wild and green over my turntables like big ship sails, listening to the Who belt out covers of blues songs that could pass for hardcore sonic pornography, chewing on week-old pistachios, sipping on plastic water, and typing up a vacuous storm. it’s monday and i’m blogging.

i went to a baseball game last week and saw a pitcher end an inning. innings end about 17 or 18 times per baseball game, and pitchers are often the reason for those endings, seeing as how they throw the balls that cause strikes and home runs. anyway, this particular time, the pitcher walked off the mound with a little cross on his face and a little point to the heavens, as if he were thanking the Greek deities for their graciousness in allowing him to end that very inning. what a crock of shit! i don’t end every single paragraph i write with a prayer to Allah. i don’t even do so after each blog post is published! although, Christ, maybe i should…

what other things have i done lately? what other thoughts have i had? after all, what is a blog post but a description of sights and sounds, as mundane, murky, magical, or obsolescent they may be.

today, i went to a television studio. i don’t really have much more to say about that except that i saw lots of monitors and a pretty girl (or two) and important people.

i’ve had two amazing weekends back to back and—coincidentally—my girlfriend has been sober for two whole weekends. this most recent one was spent doing and eating and feeling many things, but it started with my limbs actually assembling a delicious spinach mushroom pasta for Chelsea and myself, followed by the spectacle of spectacles, ballet:

all the critics seem to love the San Francisco Ballet’s 2012 closing-production of Don Quixote and, this time around, i’m not one to disagree with critics. not only did i take my beautiful girl to a beautiful ballet, but i finally closed the loop on something i should have done almost two years ago: mixed marijuana and high art! yup yup yup, during the intermissions, Chelsea and i slipped to the City Hall-facing balcony—the very same one where i was offered a smoke so long ago—and took a toke from my own magic flute. and, as if the universe wasn’t content with closing a single loop, it sent an old man wandering to our balcony, who awkwardly conversed with us until i killed the awkwardness by offering him a smoke. his response: “far out!” i love ballet, i love San Francisco.

i also love girls.

these are the girls that are the waitresses that are the angels at It’s Tops Coffee Shop that i love that i yes that i love more coffee more smiles more eyes bright wide-opened white cream in my coffee, the girls that i love, the coffee that i love, the ballet spins music into my misty ears. coffee.

the rest of the weekend was spent sleeping in super late, loving friends, drinking beers, eating wings, eating omelettes, eating trout, eating salmon, celebrating Rachel, and hating my disgusting eye. oh well, there are worse things, i suppose.

do you ever read a blog post and think to yourself, “i wonder if this blogger stopped mid-post to take a gigantic shit.” not all who wonder are lost.

the weekend prior was just as—if not more—outstanding. if you assume that thursday and the first seventeen and a half hours of friday are not the weekend, that is. but if you somehow take thursday night to be part of the weekend, well then, good reader, i’ll have you know that just about the only good thing that happened to me that night was a small cup of tomato basil soup, a bit of grilled cheese, and a portion of water. the rest was hell and teeth-grating, dreaming of my sweetness pinned down of her own volition, writhing, unsmiling, drowning. and i knew not of her freedom until friday evening, when i threw all care to the wind and descended into Daly City, the land of beer and music.

everything will be okay in the end. if things aren’t okay, then it’s not the end. Continue reading

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here, say

in which the Hero does too many things. Continue reading

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Hardcore, Hardstyle, Electro, Hard Trance

it’s before 1000 on a saturday, and yet i am awake and bursting. it’s much too early to start up the bass, so i might as well try to wank with words instead. last night, i went to Amsterdam. J … Continue reading

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favorite “new” singles of 2010

Donna Summer – “I Feel Love” (1977)

ooh… i feel love i feel love i feel love i feel love i feel love….. consider me an official convert of the Church of Bellotte, Moroder, and Summer, because this shit is seriously the meaning of life and death right here. singing, moaning lovely, simple poetry over a repetitive, thumping synth line that could have come out yesterday, Donna Summer proved to me in just under six minutes why she is called the Queen of Disco. said David Bowie in 1989: “One day in Berlin … Eno came running in and said, ‘I have heard the sound of the future.’ … he puts on ‘I Feel Love’, by Donna Summer … He said, ‘This is it, look no further. This single is going to change the sound of club music for the next fifteen years.’ Which was more or less right.”

Carly Simon – “Why” (1982)

before 2010, all i knew about Carly Simon was that she was some alright white chick from my parent’s time that made one popular song which my favorite band from high school managed to incorporate pretty interestingly into my least favorite song by them. oh, but now, she is so much more. i think during the summer, Stalker posted a YouTube link to this song on his Facebook, and i am so fucking glad i caught it. it’s eight minutes of Simon singing “why. does your love. hurt so much. don’t know why.” over the most bombastic drum and bassline of all fucking time, highlighted by colorful keys in dub rhythm. what. the. fuck. it goes on forever, it sounds the same the whole song through, but it never gets old. fucking blast it.

Grandmaster Flash & the Furious Five – “The Message” (1982)

this track needs no introduction. well, it shouldn’t. but it took me until january 2010 to discover this musical gold. “don’t push me ’cause i’m close to the edge, i’m trying not to to lose my head. it’s like a jungle sometimes it makes me wonder how i keep from going under.” and quite possibly the most superb beat ever produced. or at least the first (this shit preceded Dr. Dre’s chronic tunes by a decade!) i hardly give a shit that he’s rapping about something “real” because i’m too busy bobbing my head in sonic ecstasy. i think i’m seeing a trend here. i like my singles to be BASSY.

Boney M. – “Rasputin” (1978)

god look at all those sparkles on that album art; Music & Lights, that’s where it’s at. so where Grandmaster Flash sung about the hard-knock street life, Boney M. sings about… a Russian mystical legend named Rasputin, in the silliest way possible. i’m really not sure if these guys had any other hits, but it doesn’t really matter because “Rasputin” has everything: delicious disco beat (based on a Turkish folk song), male and female duet, a chorus that you can’t not sing along to, and motherfucking handclaps. hey! hey! hey! hey! hey! hey! hey! hey! let’s fucking rebel against the system! and fucking dance at the same time!

Thieves Like Us – “Drugs in My Body” (2007)

okay, i’ll just throw this out there. maybe, just maybe, i wouldn’t love this song so much if Jacob hadn’t thrown it on while i was on the peak of my very first roll. oh god i’m so glad he did though. i was a free-floating space effigy, representing everything horrible in the world, and i was fucking burning. burning burning burning burning and dancing like a desert phantom with mind-altering ice cubes melting at a million miles per second in the palms of my hands. “go downtown with the drugs in my body, step back up i’m the life of the party, come back home and we’ll get something started, stay up late put some heat in my heartache.” yup.

Panda Bear – “Drone” (2010)

i’m starting to think that singles even more than albums draw their power from nostalgia. this was the very first song i heard Panda Bear perform live. Andrew D. mailed me his Pitchfork ticket, i hopped on a plane for free with my mom’s passes, flew to Ontario (a nice place to potentially get “stranded”), flew to Chicago, took the L downtown, walked into Union Park with a backpack carrying a couple days of clothes and sunglasses hiding yesterday’s ophthalmologist attack on my eyes, walked up to Noah’s stage (after securing an actual roof to sleep under [love you, Nora & Erin]), bummed a puff from some kids, and bowed to the awesome unintelligible sublimity that is “Drone.”

Donna Summer – “Love to Love You Baby” (1975)

ohh… love to love you baby… sound familiar? yes, it’s Miss Summer singing about how lovely love is, but this time she does it for seventeen minutes (the version above is a ridiculous three minutes, so unfortunate), and instead of doing it over a track that is the future of music, she does it over the music that fits the era better–smooth, funky disco perfection. half the time you can’t tell whether she’s singing or orgasming. (Wikipedia said the idea at first made her uncomfortable, naturally enough.) half the time you can’t tell whether you’re listening to music or orgasming. i wonder what it’s like to have sex to this song…

Four Tet – “Love Cry” (2009)

nine minutes of crying, “Love Cry.” i played this for a friend who knew and enjoyed Four Tet’s older material, but to this he said something like, “what is this dancy house bullshit?” oh yes, all electronic musicians must bow down to the Great Disco Ball in the sky at some point in their careers, it is inevitable. i first downloaded this when it was released at the end of 2009, was reminded of it at senior week in San Diego, and it cemented itself in my soul at Treasure Island, when Kieran Hebden performed it as the San Francisco sun set behind the city, leaving only cold and clouds. Love Cry… Love Cry.. Love Cry.. Love Cry..

Panda Bear – “Tomboy” (2010)

i’ve come to realize that i am (at least) a complete sucker for two qualities in music. one, music about music. two, Minimalism. now, “Tomboy” is probably even closer to just plain old rock than the ~Minimalist work i mentioned in my last post, Fly Pan Am, but if you just focus on the guitar portion of the song, you might see what i’m seeing. first chord first measure, second chord second measure, third chord strum for four measures. repeat. it’s as if the first two chords are flight preparation and the third chord is the spiral into infinity. listen to it loud on headphones. i’m a stoner and i can’t fucking wait for Panda Bear’s LP to come out this year.

The Toyes – “Smoke Two Joints” (1983)

you didn’t really think Sublime wrote their own music, did you? just kidding. i’m going to spare you the WHICH IS BETTER THE COVER OR THE ORIGINAL? argument (though, for the record, i ordinarily prefer the original), but this version of probably the best stupidest smoking anthem ever is just undeniable reggay goodness. gone is the Reefer Madness sample, gone are the endless bong rips, gone are the turntable scratches, all that’s left is sincere stoned singing and a rocking band burning happily for a few minutes. now i just want someone to tell me why Sublime cut quite possibly the greatest lyric from their cover: “i smoke two joints when i play video games and at every 10,000 points (i smoke two joints).” Continue reading

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So You Quote Love Unquote Me

My state ate an entire valley
So now it’s fatter than the sun.
Our maths rarely surpass My Dear Aunt Sally,
Humboldt drugs got us on the run.
Deserts, beaches, mountains too,
This golden calf worships surfer girls.
Until the dawn of a Webby few,
Its claim to fame was Haight St. swirls.
And now there nowhere for our green-tech cars
Except maybe a New California on red, red Mars. Continue reading

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PubMed madness

i think some StumbleUpon stoner really amped for California Proposition 19 has gone batshit on PubMed. i’ve stumbledupon three awesome studies in the past week that study the carcinogenic effects of marijuana, the link between marijuana and Alzheimer’s, and the effects of marijuana on cognitive performance, and all three have come out favorably. maybe the negative studies just gets thumbs down, but i really don’t think so. weed rules. mostly, i’m creating this post for my own reference (with the newest studies toward the top) and i’ll try to keep updating it (if i encounter more studies).

A molecular link between the active component of marijuana and Alzheimer’s disease pathology. (2006)
Department of Chemistry and Immunology, The Skaggs Institute for Chemical Biology, The Scripps Research Institute, La Jolla, California 92037, USA.
Alzheimer’s disease is the leading cause of dementia among the elderly, and with the ever-increasing size of this population, cases of Alzheimer’s disease are expected to triple over the next 50 years. Consequently, the development of treatments that slow or halt the disease progression have become imperative to both improve the quality of life for patients and reduce the health care costs attributable to Alzheimer’s disease. Here, we demonstrate that the active component of marijuana, Delta9-tetrahydrocannabinol (THC), competitively inhibits the enzyme acetylcholinesterase (AChE) as well as prevents AChE-induced amyloid beta-peptide (Abeta) aggregation, the key pathological marker of Alzheimer’s disease. Computational modeling of the THC-AChE interaction revealed that THC binds in the peripheral anionic site of AChE, the critical region involved in amyloidgenesis. Compared to currently approved drugs prescribed for the treatment of Alzheimer’s disease, THC is a considerably superior inhibitor of Abeta aggregation, and this study provides a previously unrecognized molecular mechanism through which cannabinoid molecules may directly impact the progression of this debilitating disease.

Cannabis and tobacco smoke are not equally carcinogenic. (2004)
Biology Department, 1420 Austin Bluffs Parkway, University of Colorado, Colorado Springs, 80918, USA
More people are using the cannabis plant as modern basic and clinical science reaffirms and extends its medicinal uses. Concomitantly, concern and opposition to smoked medicine has occurred, in part due to the known carcinogenic consequences of smoking tobacco. Are these reactions justified? While chemically very similar, there are fundamental differences in the pharmacological properties between cannabis and tobacco smoke. Cannabis smoke contains cannabinoids whereas tobacco smoke contains nicotine. Available scientific data, that examines the carcinogenic properties of inhaling smoke and its biological consequences, suggests reasons why tobacco smoke, but not cannabis smoke, may result in lung cancer.

Effects of acute smoked marijuana on complex cognitive performance. (2001)
Division on Substance Abuse, New York State Psychiatric Institute, 1051 Riverside Drive, New York, NY 10032, USA.
Although the ability to perform complex cognitive operations is assumed to be impaired following acute marijuana smoking, complex cognitive performance after acute marijuana use has not been adequately assessed under experimental conditions. In the present study, we used a within-participant double-blind design to evaluate the effects acute marijuana smoking on complex cognitive performance in experienced marijuana smokers. Eighteen healthy research volunteers (8 females, 10 males), averaging 24 marijuana cigarettes per week, completed this three-session outpatient study; sessions were separated by at least 72-hrs. During sessions, participants completed baseline computerized cognitive tasks, smoked a single marijuana cigarette (0%, 1.8%, or 3.9% Delta(9)-THC w/w), and completed additional cognitive tasks. Blood pressure, heart rate, and subjective effects were also assessed throughout sessions. Marijuana cigarettes were administered in a double-blind fashion and the sequence of Delta(9)-THC concentration order was balanced across participants. Although marijuana significantly increased the number of premature responses and the time participants required to complete several tasks, it had no effect on accuracy on measures of cognitive flexibility, mental calculation, and reasoning. Additionally, heart rate and several subjective-effect ratings (e.g., “Good Drug Effect,” “High,” “Mellow”) were significantly increased in a Delta(9)-THC concentration-dependent manner. These data demonstrate that acute marijuana smoking produced minimal effects on complex cognitive task performance in experienced marijuana users.

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1967 [archive]

January 4 February 1 March 12 May 12 June 1 August 5 November 27 December 1

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Where is My Mind? [archive]

if i smoke enough marijuana, i’ll entertain the possibility of death.

if i drink enough alcohol, i’ll forget all about death.

if i eat enough mushrooms, i’ll die and be reborn.

if i snort enough cocaine, i’ll stay awake so long that death will become impossible.

if i shoot enough heroin, i’ll welcome death. Continue reading

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firsts [archive]

they finally posted the coachella lineup:

FRIDAY: i can’t stop loling it up. what a complete joke. paul mccartney? nobody cares about paul mccartney except paul mccartney. hey paul: Hey Jude sucked then and it sucks now. i wish they had gotten John Lennon instead. i hear Morrissey is cool, so i guess people could watch him instead of franz ferdinand. Meryl raved a bit about Leonard Cohen but i know nothing about him. Conor Oberst is a dick but i’m sure he’ll put on a cool show, along with Beirut, Black Keys, and Girl Talk. god i think the only act i would actually be crazy about seeing on friday is M. Ward. i’ve also heard a lot of good things about the Bug from people whose music taste i respect.
consider: Aphex Twin and mum alone destroy this entire lineup.

SATURDAY: the killers? the killers? people listen to the killers? i mean, the killers? the killers was the band that i kept comparing nin to the day The Hand That Feeds leaked. my head dropped in my hands and i almost cried because my favorite band in the whole universe was turning into the killers. now the band i used for such lofty comparisons is headlining coachella on saturday. awesome. amy winehouse? i don’t know. Thievery Corporation is cool and all, but it’s really just second-rate Portishead. everyone loves TV on the Radio and MSTRKRFT but i have yet to get into either. Fleet Foxes!! Mastodon! Henry Rollins?? Hercules and Love Affair? Dr. Dog? Calexico? alright these are pretty cool acts, but still nothing that really wows. i’m pretty sure this was the killer (ha) day for me at last coachella.
consider: Kraftwerk, Portishead, Animal Collective, and Prince vs. Thievery Corporation, Amy Winehouse, Fleet Foxes, and The Killers

SUNDAY: wow! a good headliner! i actually would love to see The Cure, but they’re not going to make me crazy about missing the festival. with My Bloody Valentine, we’re starting to talk. Public Enemy? apparently Sunday is the day to go. i guess Sebastien Tellier, Junior Boys, and Supermayer might be cool to see. but still…..
consider: Roger Waters performs the Dark Side of the Moon followed by Justice afterparty.

as much as i bitch about the lineup, it pleases me immensely to see how much it sucks….. because i can’t go anyway! moving on.

i bought my first pack of cigarettes yesterday. why? i am a big proponent of experimentation and indulgence. experimentation opens up the mind to the world and its many ways. i feel that the unexperimenters have destined themselves to the couch in front of their tv, watching reruns, fast forwarding through commercials, eating the food they know they love, happy, content, placid, bored. experimenting not only helps you understand the billions of people and animals and rocks and nothingness around you, but it also helps you understand yourself. indulgence is less defendable, in my opinion, but it just happens to reflect a big part of who i am. jumping into a pool is far more interesting than inching in. i like to spread out my arms and say Everything Everything Everything. i can’t just “like” bands, i have to obsess over them. i am going to enter the world of smoking while in Europe and then i’ll leave when i return to the US. i actually made a $20 bet with Xanthe last night that i will never buy a single damn cigarette in the US. as naive as it might sound, i am serious about this. why smoke tobacco when you can smoke marijuana?

yesterday was also the first time that i went to a lesbian bar. i’m friends with these girls that live together–Xanthe, Maddy, Caitlin–and the latter has been here since last semester. she wanted to take us and since they’re all really cool, i didn’t have any problem with it. the four of us, sam, and whitney went together and had a pretty sweet time. for not being a lesbian (besides being the kind stuck in a man’s body, ha ha), i actually really liked the place. it was chill.

today i woke up around 2 and got out of bed to get myself some lunch at cya. i ate alone, but since i’ve managed to get my iphone on the wireless network there, i made good use of the time to read a ton of nytimes. apparently a bunch of neo-forests are springing up where older rain forests had been slaughtered earlier, with such great intensity and speed that scientists around the world are going ? ? ? what’s going on ? ? ? are environmentalists crazy ? ? ? i wish i understood the world ? ? ? it’s funny watching people try to figure out what the hell is happening around them. it made me happy to see that millions have been protesting in the streets of France against sarkozy. no matter what the cause, i always support protest. it makes me happy to see people getting pissed off and yelling. they seem so alive!

i actually found myself surprised to read some nice articles about the US. apparently senators can still do things. i don’t know the details of the bill, but it seems good enough on the surface. unfortunately, “The bill would increase tobacco taxes to offset the increase in spending, estimated at more than $32 billion over four and a half years.” it sucks that smokers get punished for something they should be free to do without special taxes. raise taxes on broccoli and alcohol and roller coasters, too.

dude. look at our fucking president:

what. a fucking. baller. Obama makes signing a bill look like moonwalking. i’m down with girls getting paid the same as boys. then after calling out the bulls on parade, he tells people to just chill out a little bit. leaving lunch, i started a little wander through the streets of Athens. a few minutes after starting my walk, with all the nytimes running through my head, a smile just broke across my face. the sky was a pale blue with some scattered puffs of clouds and i actually felt good about things my President was saying and doing. i almost wanted to go up to some random person and say, “hey. do you know Barack Obama? he’s my president.” this is so unlike me and i’m still remembering that he’s plugged into one of the most corruptible systems in the world, but still. things are looking pretty alright so far. he seems to actually think, care, consider. he seems to hate bullshit and bullshitting around. he seems cool. THIS is the guy i would want to kick a few beers back with.

i have a map of Athens pinned on the wall behind my computer, so i’m always thinking with my eyes, i want to go.. there! the closest thing to me was what looked like a giant cemetery. so i started wandering there, mapless, and eventually found it. i don’t know how it compares to say, pere lachaise, in size, but it’s pretty massive. i just walked through it directionless, trying to get lost among death, and i eventually got deep enough in that the ambience of traffic was nearly muted. death obsesses me. i really have no idea if other people are down with exploring random cemeteries by themselves, but i think its pretty profound. i think a lot about how everyone thinks about death. we think about those who have gone before and we wonder when our own time will come. we wonder why so many people have such big markers, but then we consider those who were left to the dogs.

in classical Greece, being left for the dogs stood as one of the, if not the one, deepest disgraces one could suffer. personally, i wouldn’t mind being left for the dogs. they’re hungry dogs, and even if you hide under meters of marble, they’ll find you eventually. Continue reading

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