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When Kush Comes to Shove

Marijuana plants grow under special lights inside a grow facility in Denver
Marijuana plants grow under special lights inside a grow facility in Denver / AP
• January 16, 2014 12:00 pm

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DIAMOND CABARET & STEAKHOUSE, Denver – Green is the new gold. Take it from Biff.

Just as the pioneers and left-wing immigrants of yore ventured westward in search of shiny metal, vagrants have arrived here in the Centennial State for a taste of Sour Diesel. The nugs might be different. But the ambition is the same.

Weed is legal now in Colorado. You can buy it and get high and the cops don’t care. I had to come to Denver to find out for myself, because I sure as hell didn’t read about it in the Washington Free Beacon. Here, do a search. There’s not a single story on the whole friggin’ site. Pretty much the only Colorado-related thing I could find was a blurb about Suzette Hall, a topless grandmother from Loveland seeking work as a hair stylist. Suzette, call me.

My relationship with Mary Jane over the years has been rather complicated. I admit it: There have been times when that saucy temptress has gotten the better of me. In Baden-Württemberg after a spliff I was known to go on walkabouts through Black Forest, where I would transcribe orchestral movements in the dew of spider webs. It was delicate work. Alas, the music was almost always too sophisticated for the local symphony to reproduce.

I will never forget the time when, during a stifling heat wave, I spent weeks studying sacred texts at a Lutheran monastery near Haslach im Kinzigtal. That was some strong stuff I smoked there. A couple of Jagdhunds eventually found me huddled in a disused barn on the edge of town, famished and semi-nude, taken in by a family of crows. The birds had to be shot after they attacked the paramedics trying to revive me. For almost a year I was in and out of the hospital, where I relearned the English language.

In October of ’73 I bought 13 pounds of fetid hash off some Bedouin tribesman in the Negev. I wandered the desert for days before realizing there was a war on. It was then that I reportedly ambushed an Egyptian battalion, commandeered one of their T-55s and made a beeline for Cairo. I didn’t get very far before I was apprehended by Koah Patzi and General Sharon’s 143rd Armored Division. "Don’t f*** with the lion’s den!" I yelled as they pulled me from the tank, according to IDF transcripts. I have no memory of the event.

Speaking of the Middle East, is it too much to ask of the Free Beacon or any of the other Beltway rags to at least act like they care about what’s happening in Fallujah? I ran a discount mercenary operation out of there in the mid-1980s, and though I have been back only a few times since, I cannot stand the thought of terrorists taking over. Why isn’t Adam Kredo on the ground reporting, or better yet, sabotaging al Qaeda supply lines? I think we know why.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a plane to catch.

Published under: Humor, Parody