Friday, November 21
Left work, punched a grogan, checked for my passport, tickets, and fake moustache. A long bus ride unloaded me at LAX, British Airways desk. 1hr 47 minuted before take off, I head off to the bar to smoke DMT laced cigarettes and sip on a double for a dollar more. Heard someone complain about a burning plastic smell, and put out my cigarette.
    Slurked into the chair, through the post attached to the floor, and dropped onto the luggage belt. Attendants loaded me into the cargo bay of a 747. I napped for a while and then went up to the cabin to order a Speef Narkle. The fucking thing lands in Amsterdam and its freezing.
    The Cannabis Cup began in 1988 when a couple of stoned idiots from High Times magazine flew over to The Netherlands and smoked dope. The competition was restricted to just the commercial seed companies. Four strains entered. Only one won.
    "Shaas lawal," (Austrian for "fart loaf") greets my friend Gernot, a professional snow boarder and accomplished pot smoker. "Souhen een un apen lil," ("Suck an ape's dick" in Dutch) I respond. We leave the airport in his 68 VW camper bus, known as "the boss". Gernot has serious mental problems and he drives like a cannibal. Wait, maybe its my brain that's damaged. A mule deer on a three wheeled orange motorcycle rips a greasy fart, burns out, and implodes leaving a lead chicken beak on the road. Gernot slows down and I grab it.
    Humping cats is the joie de vivre in Amsterdam, they love it...

(Continued tomorrow.)

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