Vol 8. Edition 6
News from CannaTown
Page 13
Christember in Cannatown
Yes, Virginia, There is a St. Nickeljoint First published in the CannaTown Register , 1897
Dear Editor, I am 18 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Saint Nickeljoint. But my homie said, “If ya see it in Cannapages, it is so.” Please tell me the truth, is there a St. Nickeljoint? - Virginia O’Green Virginia, Those skeptic dudes are are wrong. They’ve been affected by the total drag of the downer age. They do not believe except what they smake. They think that nothing can be, which is not smake-able by their little bowls. All bowls, Virginia, whether they be men’s, or women’s, are little. In this great Canniverse of ours, man is a mere insect, an ant, especially when medicated. Yes, Virginia, there is a St. Nickeljoint. He exists as certainly as sparkling flower, and hash oil, and keef-rolled wax-infused doobies, and you know that these things abound and give to our life its high- est, highest joy. And munchies. Alas! How big a bummer, would be the world if there were no St. Nickeljoint! As much a drag, as if there were no Virginias! There would be no illustrious highs, no jolts through the atmosphere, bitzkrieg smack-dabs or flying through space to make tolerable this existence. The eternal bowl with which cadet-hood fills the world, would be cashed out, cashed ! Not believe in St. Nickeljoint? You might as well not believe in Rupert the Red-eyed Reindeer! You might get your homies to watch all the couches in town, just to catch Nickeljoint crashing for a few hours, then roasting a bowl before duck-taping Zip-loc bags full of freshly-cured cannabis upon the mantel--but even if they didn’t see this very spectacle, what would that prove? Nobody sees St. Nickeljoint, not since he gave all his clothes and belongings away on the Amsterdam river flats in the 80’s. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t a Nickeljoint. The most real things in the world, are the things you only see when you’re higher than a kite and sitting in your own living room. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course you did, we all did, when the Durban Poison wax came through town. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders that are unseen, unless we keep smakin’ on that wax. Where was I? Oh, yes. Only a true, teary-eyed roast can push aside that curtain, to view the supernatural glory of cannabis beyond our wildest dreams. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world, there is nothing else that totally abides so hard. No St. Nickeljoint? Thank God he lives and he lives forever, up in the Highlands! A thousand years from now, maybe 4 times 20 years from now, he will continue to make glad the hearts of cadets!
Season's Greetings From Purp Yuletide greetin's, ya smooth bastards. Let me be the first to offer the most congenial of welcomes. Why am I so charitable on this crisp autumnal day? Because of the harvest, my vast bales of crops, hangin' to dry at the homestead. Y'all need some purp? I got that. I got that purp right here. And this ain't just any purp. This my friends is a special cultivar of grand delight, one entrusted to me by the divine. When the crop finishes curin', the holiday will suddenly fit together. All means of spectacular news will fly about the yuletide purp at Purp's Purp. Just you wait, for the headlines, for the front page photo- graphical documentation. That's right, it'll happen, sure and begorra, or my name ain't Bertrand DePurp the Third . Now I'm sure St. Nickel- joint will bless y'all this month, but remember, even the sparkliest elf- grown highlands nugget goes fast, especially 'round the family circle. Lest y'all cast yer winter stash to fortuity, y'all better stock up. She's a gorgeous goddess of flower and she goes quick. So, y'all need that purp? I got that, right here .
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