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Dispatches from the Highlands
News from CannaTown JAN-FEB 2023
Vol 1. Edition 1
$4.20 Cents
ELON MUSK REVEALS IDENTITY: DR. CLAW WEALTHY ENTREPENEUR ADMITS FAILURE TO CAPTURE GADGET
********* Criminal organization M.A.D. sinks Musk's reputation as evil genius aer repeat-foiling by local girl and her canine - full story pg B17 HEAD OF M.A.D. CONSIDERS REPLACEMENT CEO FOL- LOWING SERIES OF GAFFES
A Bowlswabber's Tale From Res to Kind, Page 12 Deals In Your Area! Local Maps, Page 18 You have to eat this burger Note to Self, Page 11 Opinion: Ok now that you've ordered this monstrosity, self, you have to eat it. See Note to Self..... ..................Page 11 Dispatches from the Highlands cata- logues aairs and news from the beau- tiful city of Cannatown, a quaint and quiet village built upon the conuence of the mighty IcyBong and Resinald Rivers, amidst the misty foothills of the Highlands. e Dispatches fam- ily is proud to present completely unique content--a cannacopia of squibs, lifestyle columns, reviews and deals--from across the globe. e publication is written and edited by a mostly-ripped team of writers and editors headquartered in the heart of Cannatown, and with help from old friends, they've assembled this most amazing spectacle of literature you see before you. Read, enjoy--now, make haste, to the smakery! - e Editors NEWS FROM CANNATOWN Re: Rice Krispy Treats Travesty, Page 6 Good sir, how dare you make Rice Krispy Treats using a jar of marshmal- low goo instead of the real thing? See Travesty........ .....................Page 6 This Buffet is All Infused? Moira Bitterman, Pg 10 I just wish someone would’ve told me, “Hey, by the way, this food is all packed with a ton of cannabis!" See Moira Bitterman ...............Page 10
Campstein Recognized New Exhibit, Page 8 Genius Dankmatician Steve "e Campstein" Einstein is immortalized in exhibit form at the museum . See New Exhibit .........................Page 8 A Little ank You Album Notes, Page 16 New albums, old albums -- they’re all game as Erickson takes on the soundtrack to your chill. See Album Notes. ..................Page 16 Creamy Berry Patties Cousin D Recipe, Page 17 Savor for yourself or be the life of the party! Cooking with THC made easy. See Recipe ................................Page 17 Visit magical Ripped Travel & Leisure, Page 14 Weekly CannaScopes See Fortunes, Page 7 CannaSaver TM Today’s Coupons feature:
West/Central Los Angeles CANNABIS LISTINGS Addresses, Phone by Categories: Dispensaries . . . . . . . . . . 20 GlassShops ........... 25 Vape Shops . . . . . . . . . . . 29 Hemp/CBD........... 29 Grow Stores . . . . . . . . . . . 29 Doctors . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29
Josephine & Billie's Page 37
Sixty Four & Hope Page 41, 43
Trees of Echo Park Page 45
Find Medical & Recreational Dispensary Listings pg 20 GET YOUR BUD DELIVERED pg 23 **** SAVE BIG WITH COUPONS pg 33
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Dispatches from the Highlands
$4.20 Cents
Opinion
How dare you wreck Rice Krispies Treats
By Rutherford Jenkins To the sniveling cumberworld who made Rice Krispies treats with that store bought jar of marshmallow cream, I say, how dare you good sir, how dare you ? ese krispy bars aren’t gooey sticky -- they are gelatinous oozing puscles undeserving of human consumption. ey are undeserving of
e Highest Authority Since 2009
Cannapages is a JohnsonConcept Company Local Publications Greater Denver & Boulder Southern Colorado Greater Phoenix & Tucson West/Central Los Angeles Published by Isaac Johnson Sales Director Dillon Rice Advertising Director Andrew Piña Production Kyle Dickens Customer Success Molly Norton Lead Developer Mike Morris Contributors Dan Henrickson Matthew A. Erickson Cover Art Justin Redmon Logo Aaron Draplin CANNAPAGES.COM and CANNASAVER.COM Editorial Board editors@cannapages.com Sales & Advertising sales@cannapages.com O ce | 1-800-699-8169 info@cannapages.com Copyright 2023 Nathan Johnson Micah Johnson All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or reprinted without expressed written consent of the publishers. Every attempt has been made to ensure the accuracy of these listings and their inclusion. Cannapages does not accept responsi- bility or liability for any omissions or errors.
OTHER HEADLINES Construction commences on Cinnamon Toast Crunch tower Daryl vows to build until the Nutella runs dry pg 150 Turn your closet into an extra shitter in 2 easy steps pg 157 City reverses temporary ban on public muumuu’s pg 166 Not too late to admit you're not a brain surgeon pg 171 **BROUGHT TO YOU by OAK FAMILY BUTTERESS** “Churned Slowly to the Sound of Crickets.” Surely, you intend to set ablaze this heap of rank guano you call dessert , before I turn it to lubbering shite with my plumb hatchet. Your arsemongering will not go unknownst--never again may you plague our lunch room with your Rice Krisp- ies excreta nor any other baked ordure you may ever muster. consumption by even the vilest of creatures on this wretched earth, mind you, and you’ve brought them into our place of employ? You’ve bescumbed us all, you fawning milksop! You nihilist ninnyhammer! You plucky peasant of miserable malfeasance! I spit at your feet, I throw rice at your mother. May you pay for such treason, may your jowls become aromatic as buttocks--and let the taste of this fowl toxicity forever haunt your restless nights as real , monstrous marsh- mallows chase you through endless nightmares. How, how could you have forgotten that those jars of weird goo exist purely for the purpose of eating spoonful aer spoonful of synthetic marshmallowy goodness until we are vomiting facedown in a sugar coma? How dare you break so far from such utilitarian balance? Did it not occur to you this was one thing-- one thing in this godforsaken age --upon which we can all agree? You swinging sot of smellfungus! Begone , you sugar-spiting bastard, you bakery buoon, you patisserie-patronizing puissance. You coprophagic wank of a fopdoodle. You fusty scobberlotcher of sweets, you whi-whaing stamp-crab of society; my contempt resounds between the churning of my disappointed digestion.
Vol 1. Edition 1
News from CannaTown
Page 7
Libra - e dierence between you and a real lumberjack is, real lumberjacks chop down wood, not other stu made from wood. Scorpio - At precisely the same moment you notice something has been chewing on the drywall, you'll look down to realize it was you. Sagittarius - You’ll never get away with this, they’d tell you, if they’re weren’t a bunch of adorable, delicious, baby oysters. Capricorn - Most gamblers play coy during a blu, but your strategy is a straight guttural Popeye stutter . Aquarius - Despite climbing the bestseller list, you will be labeled a plagiarist for your novel, Fellowship of the Small Metal Finger-Circle . Pisces - e girl didn't seem very enthused about listening to your order. en again, she doesn't work here.
CANNASCOPES : Discover Your Fortune! Aries - It’s not that everybody hates to hear your inner dialogue. It’s just that nobody re- ally needs another 50 recipes for meatloaf. Taurus - ere may be no stupider way of looking at the situation, than through goggles on a pogo-stick. Gemini - Nothing speaks to the depravity of your resin high like this homemade meal of dipped cheese slices in melted cheese. Cancer - Friends don’t push friends out of moving cars, then make love to their spouse and burn their house down. Leo - You idiot, you’re not supposed to rip the teabag open. Virgo - e tattoo wasn’t really received well, but you have to admit it was a clever way to request a divorce. Aer months of grueling research, involving scientic bases and smaking circles world- wide, scientists say they have discovered the absolute highest that mankind get get, a high- water mark now known as “Absolute 420.” As chief scientist Wendy Hazelton explained, this landmark study “shows that most people who think they could not be any higher actu- ally have no idea how much higher they could be,” adding, “nor did we realize that humans could be moved to tears of laughter or have deep, philosophical conversations with so many inanimate objects.” A sole volunteer, Ronald Slough, is credited with the discovery, pushing on even when others insisted he stop. Accounts of the nal experiment describe Slough as “incomprehensible; subject believed he was an ostrich on a scuba expedition, and searched several minutes for a resting place before deciding to sleep on a large cus.” What Came to Pass News in Brief Scientists Discover Absolute 420
Resinville gied huge vaporizer bag, Pg B4
Stories in Today’s Other Sections
Utterly high pâtissier accidentally makes award-winning Pâte à Choux.................... E2 Where to get free uid on national wind- shield wiper uid day................................. F6 Rotten ower bouquet survives another week .................................... ............ ...... G13 Dems’ ghtin’ words............................... H1
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Dispatches from the Highlands
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ADVERTISEMENT
CAMPSTEIN'S COLLECTION INDUCTED Museum to Host Exhibit of Late Dankmatician
Aer decades of ownership by a slew of private collectors, a new cache of items used by historic genius Steve “e Camptstein” Einstein have been inducted into the CannaTown Museum of Science and Cannatechnol- ogy. At a ceremony Saturday, Einstein’s notebook, cheeng jacket, and shards of his laboratory bub- bler were on display for the public, along with other legendary oce items including his giant bean bag chair and extensive Wesley Willis record collection.
Turkish Delight Just How You Remember Chewy. Nutty. Eat it on the farm between your chores. Feel that powdery sugary gelatin goodness sliding down your throat and remember the good old summers from your days growing up on the rolling hills of Tunisia. is is Turkish Delight like you've never known but you've always known. is is the stu. e most delightful stu you can get. e ratluk of royalty. e loukoumi of love. e malban of madness. Don't get your britches in a bunch over popsicles and cotton candy, dar- lin', it's Turkish Delight and only Turkish De- light from here on out, for the rest of your life. And you like that. We got your rosewater. We got your bergamot. Making cozonac? Got you cov- ered. Tricking Edmund Pevensie into betray- ing his loved ones? is is the ticket right here. We swear you will liter- ally shit your eyeballs out and gag to death from the sheer thrill that is eating BIG SAL'S TURKISH DELIGHT Find It At e Nearest Gas Station
Steve, lesser-known brother of Albert Einstein, established his own recognized eory of Dankativity aer parting ways with his sibling. e two had famously disagreed on what caused inertia--Steve argued that the answer, simply, was ‘Kush’--and insisted on moving into dierent sciences. He was infamous for camping on bowls. Once, it was reported, he spent three full nights camping, bowl in hand, only breaking from his trance to jot a few notes down, then camped again for a week. It would have been the kind of thing that sent cadets in his age straight to the institution for a mental exam -- or at least, got you skipped in the circle -- except that this type of behavior was typical of him. “You couldn’t pass to ol’ Campstein unless you were cool with pausing the circle-smake for at least a day,” said local historian Dana Charonic at the ceremony. Oen criticized sharply for his terrible “habit,” it was only aer his death that dankness experts began to realize just how many calculations he’d been making every time he camped. "None, no calculations," Charonic noted. “Most of his research just involved him sitting there, in deep thought,” Over time, Campstein found less friends and circles to smake
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Vol 1. Edition 1
News from CannaTown
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Cannatown News
“Campstein still stands out as one of the greats, if not the Greatest.” - Professor Peter Skeedz
Man Suers Bout of Led Zeppelin Poisoning Medics had to rush a lo- cal resident, Gus Halvor- son, to be treated for Led Zeppelin poisoning, aer friends found him wandering the streets in the middle of the night, singing the opening to Immigrant Song over and over again. “At rst we thought he was choking on his beer,” said buddy Brett Taylor. “But then he got to the Ice and Snow part.” Halvorson spent most of the earlier evening with worsening symp- toms, and sat alone, playing air guitar and drumming even without music. “He was hum- ming madly under his breath, but we could oc- casionally recognize the song,” Taylor said. “It was Ramble On.” Halvorson is one of thousands to be treated for Zeppelin, a rising problem in 21 states. Health ocials are be- coming more aware of warning signs such a full-wall blacklight mu- ral in a garage, rocking out in public during a guitar solo, and head- banging despite a pattern of baldness. Halvorson was airlied portside to join a group of drinking sherman in an old sea chanty. “It’s the best treatment, literally pulls the patient back away from the Zep- plin to the other end of the cultural spectrum,” said the patient’s doctor, Edna Statz. “Sung in a round is best.”
with despite his growing following of scientic dabfellows. He told those few remaining that he was close to unveiling the ultimate theory on dankness, something that would “replace the Berjiggity Scale,” the potency measurement system developed during the Dark Ages, modied and passed down even into modern times. “Berjiggity didn’t factor in space-out-time,” Peter Skeedz, Professor of Dankage at Cannatown University (CTU) said at the induction. “Campstein was proposing a whole new spectrum of dankness levels like Dankapotumus , Stanka Dank Dank , Gnar Gnar Binks , and even Intergalactic Emergency , considered the highest level of dankness possible in the given universe.” His penultimate contribution to science, the equation D=SC 2 ( Dank = Shwag x Camp 2 ), demonstrated the signicance of the camp in establishing nuggersh dankness. Each bowl of smake was reduced to its basic shwag level as common denominator. e crowning achievement was nding the exponent he called the “Nuggies Constant,” which turned out to be the number two. “It took a decade,” he admitted in his notebook’s nal entry, “but I nally plugged in my lucky number and it worked.” e equation and notebook, released a year before his death 20 years ago, became an icon and rallying cry for other dankol- ogy experts. He was able to witness only the beginning of the movement he sparked, which went on to inspire several schools of Dankthought. In droves, groups tried to recreate his camping experiments in their own laboratory settings. Curriculums and textbooks were written. Seminars and industry trades, launched. Now, with an exhibit celebrating his life’s
achievement, scholars feel the theory has come full-circle into cultural acceptance. “Technically new math such as Dinkle Dank eory has given rise to higher, abstract levels of Dankness, but technically none of those have been observed.” Skeedz said. “Campstein still stands out as one of the greats, if not the Greatest.”
"Purp" DePurp
Local icon and proprietor Bertrand “Purp” DePurp is one of a small minority that disagrees with the science. Purp, adjunct professor of Purpology at CTU issued a counter-statement to the newspaper at the event. “If it looks like purp, and smell like purp, smakes like purp, it’s purp,” he said. “Hands down, I never needed no dank scale tellin’ me what’s the most euphorious nug in the world. For that, I got me a nose and two eyeballs.” Purp added that he’s been working on his own Purp eory, and a device he called the “Hoobie-Danker.”
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Dispatches from the Highlands
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Smells Ain't Free
the fella that’s listenin’ when you start askin’ Homes here what he’s got available in a violet hue. Violet hue ? at’s like askin’ a grey duck who’s a goose! See everyone ‘round these parts just says, “Purp?” en I say “What, you need Purp? I got that Purp. I got that Purp right here.” But this ain’t just any Purp. is is like a swig of pure mash. Picked on the edges of Grape Gorge. Hand-picked! P-R-P, Purrrr-urp! See, that’s why smells ain’t free. And I saw you treatin’ your shnoz to a couple whis. Pull out that cash, son, I also accept bullion--gold. New customer, old customer. Smells ain’t free, not never . Y’all need that Purp? I got that right here.
Don’t pretend ya’ didn’t see me. You were lookin my direction since you walked in the room and I was showin’ the stanky dank to Rollo. at’s right. I got that Purp. You been enjoyin’ her smooth aroma. And I’m tellin’ you right
By Purp
now, son, smells ain’t free. I shouldn’t have to tell you that! Where you from anyway! You’re in Cannatown Proper now, Jimbo. You never hearda Purp? My name’s Purp. I’M Purp. P-R-P, PURP. I’m
Wish I'd Known is was an Infused Buet
Oh my gawd , did I just hear Denise right? Did I understand her correctly, that all the food over on that entire taco bar is “medicated”? Like, with heavy THC? Oh my gawd you guys, are you telling me, I just ate a half-plate of a nacho mountain, two crispy rellenos and a chimichanga, and my entire weight in sopapillas, and it was all hopped up on delta- nine? Holy jalopies , gals! Why didn’t anyone tell me? I would’ve liked to know that the freakin’ buet was infused! Did nobody hear my little story about having to eat dinner at Carl’s parents’ house? ey served lukewarm cod! And in the morn- ing the leovers that lugnut brought home stunk up the whole fridge, I couldn’t even be in the kitchen ! And then I had to skip lunch, running to the bank between the massage and jazzercise. Didn’t anyone see me raven- ously eating over here like my life depended on it? I was making up for 24 hours worth of meals in one! Nobody? Gawd, girls. I just wish someone would’ve told me, “Hey, by the way, this food is all packed with a ton of cannabis !” Can’t you agree, Gina , that you’d probably be pretty pissed if you were about to lose your mind? I don’t have time to trip right now, do you? Oh, you only ate half a churro? Good for you , that’s great Jennifer, I ate four servings . Aw, Jeez. I don’t even know where I put my
car keys and jacket. But I should probably get them from the
Moira Bitterman coat room and put it all together and then nd a safe place to sit. Or maybe I should try to make it home rst, before all this kicks in. at’s not a bad idea. How long ago did I order those sopapillas? Where'd my watch go? Did you just play the trumpet? Geez, Linda, who does your nails? You’re talking loud, what did you say? Oh no, it’s kicking in? Oh, cupcakes, girls, it’s kickin’ in. It’s kickin’ in. It’s too late to go home, ladies. Gina, thanks for this makeshi helmet. And Linda, for grabbing my purse--I’ve got it safe and I’m sitting on it. Ooh, tiddles, I may need to go lay down in the broom closet. Oh Tiddles ME. Tiddles me sideways. Did you have the el pastor? I know it’s pork, but is it, like, serene ? Gina! Gina! Gina! Did you have the El Pastor ? It seems like there was something bothering me a few minutes ago. Hmm. Do you think they’re bringing out any fried ice cream? Hello, Margaret? Any- one? Where are we? What are we doing right now? Oh my gosh, gals, look at the spread! ey have sopapillas !
Vol 1. Edition 1
News from CannaTown
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Cannatown Perspectives OPINION: OK SELF, YOU HAVE TO EAT THIS BURGER
Ok, self. You bit into this huge ol’ bacon stacked, aioli-shmeared beefy weirdness and immediately the rst bite was a punch to the gut. Holy cow. We shouldn't have or- dered it. But now what? Now what, as your family and peers watch, what now, aer Sheryl said you'd never nish such a huge meal and how it was a waste, what now, af- ter that hungry man outside began watch- ing you intensely through the window, now that we have but precious time before the show? What say you, what now? You have to go through with it. Yes. You must eat this burger. is is the gauntlet you've been training for. Oh sweet cheezus, ugh. Ugh, ugh ugh . e second bite was much worse than the rst. Oh my gosh, there's no way you can swallow it! e swallowing mechanism is stoned shut. Little. By. Little. Oh. Fudge. Me. Wilburforce, you masochist ! You gotta eat this hambeezy, mofo. Oh, self. Oh, gentle, stupid, miseable self, you are f*cked. You know if you continue eating this huge grease-slogged meat- biscuit you will either puke ‘til kingdom come or suer ten hours of uncontrollable diarrhea like a walking Pepto Bismol com- mercial. Oh crackers, oh Mallory J. Peter-Whis- kers. Blurgh! Oh you son of a gun, you dumb son of a bitch, it looked just so good in the ad but when you unwrapped it you almost cried. Now you'll have this soggy, baby-sized mash churning your stomach to shreds. You'll stink up the house! Every trip to the lavatory will be a parade to hell, every time
the bastards will whistle that insuer- able burger jingle at you, sing it louder and louder until nally they're bel- lowing at the tops of their lungs while
Dr. Basil Wilburforce
you eject hell's own wrath from both ends, sobbing to yourself between each attack in exhausted surrender. Oh fudge, you fool! at bite almost didn't stay down! Abort! Abort! For the love of ground sirloin, abort mission! No...no. You dumb twat. You have to go through with it. It probably wouldn't be so bad if you
hadn't eaten that whole bag of party-size Skittles an hour ago. Or that corndog. And, the other corndog. Ok dude, steady on, stay the course. Let every burning belch out. Control it. at's it. Were gonna get thru, self. ere's light at the end of the tunnel. ey can all see you're sweating buckets but who cares? Bite, chew, chew. Bite, chew, chew. Come on, we’re doing it! Last--wad-- trapped--mid--throat...quench me, Captain Sprite. Blurgh. ere. Swallowed and done. Resist that urge to break into bittersweet tears. Crush your wrapper into a ball, like a man . Whatever happens now, they will al- ways say, He ate it, he never inched, never cried for his mother, never chickened out. We did it, you lucky idiot. We did it. EVER WANTED ANOTHER BIRTHDAY ? * NOW YOU CAN! *WE'VE GOT ALL THE DATES!* MARCH 15th JUNE 7th OR CHOOSE YOUR OWN! SecondBirthdays.com *Does not equal additional years in age or proverbial wisdom, thus cannot be used to receive Social Security early. Oer subject to licensing through the CBA (Cannatown Birthday Association). All fees, taxes, and extra birthday money or Chuck E. Cheese tokens not included in shown price. Discounts on February 29th good only during leap years. AUGUST 28th OCTOBER 3rd And all the rest!
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Dispatches from the Highlands
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Cannatown News
FROM RESIN TO PURE KIND BUD A bowl-swabber’s life-long dream nally comes true
Bong Water Pipeline Resumes Operation Despite a season of pro- tests that drew crowds from across the globe, construction of the bong water pipeline was com- pleted last month and began pumping dank, pu- trid bong water away from the city this week. But of- cials, who say the abrupt launch was somewhat political, admit that no safeguards or regulations were set in place, much less lunch breaks. at puts the project in peril, according to canngineers. Like the bong water that burst on Mount Satchelkin, soak- ing a local village in con- taminated, rancid lth, the new pipeline was a highly-sought reeferen- dum item but could bring with it certain damage. “ere’s almost nothing worse than a couple drops of bong water in your lap,” said geobowlogist Chris Shrofe. “Now imagine oating down your side- walk in a canoe. at’s what happened up in Monarch Township.” Opponents say the pipe will shuttle away long-over- due residue and stink, and create jobs. But the ques- tion is whether enough work has already been put in, enough to prevent the nasty spills. “ere are reports of some workers literally duct-taping pieces together to make this hap- pen,” Shrofe said. “In the old days we would’ve had 100 of the top glass blowers creating one long pipe from an arsenal of discarded bowls, steamrollers -- and now, it’s a bunch of ama- teur MacGyver’s, hired by the state. We’re pretty sure they’re using discarded bubblers and gravity bongs made from plastic bottles.”
Samuel Hillis is not new to Resin. e 87-year-old Can- natown resident was born in Resinville during some of the village’s most dicult years, the dust bowl. “ey called it that because there was liter- ally nothin’ but dust in our bowls,” he recalls. “at year people said whatever resin you smaked, was resin rst scraped 20 bowls ago, scraped and smaked, scraped and smaked again and again.” He grew up in a household with scant belongings or experiences. It wasn’t until he was 25 that he smaked his rst combina- tion resin-and-stem blunt. “I remember thinking, what is this other stu? You mean there’s more than resin?” But kind bud was an exotic myth in those days. And they didn’t have all the nice waxes and butters -- only a gelatinous ex- tract called lard . Some people talked about ower but you never really thought of it as real. Like Turkish delight. And polar bears.” One day Hillis says he recalls seeing a photo from his friend’s vacation. ere, in his friend’s hand, was a giant, sparkling nugget. It was almost technicolor. “I only recall my heart dropping. It was surreal.” Stories in Resinville spread, and soon there was talk of a revolution, a renaissance and push to nd ower.
Some of Hillis’ friends, local revolutionaries were fortunate enough to experiment and gradually change what they smaked. ey began by add- ing “cracklers” (seeds), then stems, eventually leaves and nally nuggets into their resin bowls and rolls, and over time, gradually omitting the resin until their smake was “pure kind.” is led to the great Resin- ville purge of 1969, when all ower-smakers were exiled out of village limits, follow- ing the most widespread riots in town history. Hillis was wrongly accused of smaking ower, and even though he had long desired in his heart to do so, he’d never really gotten a chance to try. By time he and the revolu- tionaries made it to Canna- town, they were eager to smake and start a new life. But they
Vol 1. Edition 1
News from CannaTown
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Cannatown News Restaurant Review: Dad’s CannaTown’s newest munchery opened down- town just weeks ago and we were fortunate to get a table! Already word is spreading about Dad’s famous microwaved curly fries and discolored dijon. We were also eager to try the “Gutbuster” donut dessert, a cosmopoli- tan amalgamation of pastries, hershey’s syrup and unseasonal ice creams and popsicles. We were immediately oered a complimen- tary Schlitz beer, a little warm, as if just put in the fridge. For a signature drink, try the “sneaky shot,” a pull of whiskey, where they ac- tually pass you the bottle to take a swig under the table. Dad’s had only the nest liquors, but you do have to sneak them o the shelves yourself. From there we moved on to some innovative appetizers: trail mix with all the M&M’s missing, and extremely aged beef jerky. e Half-burned Hot Pocket was a little overdone, but lived up to its name. Dad’s also makes a con- vincing reheated Wings dish. Unfortunately it was served with only a side of ketchup to dip. Upon request it turned out ketchup was the only condiment available for any meals, end of story. Dessert was sumptu- ous in its own way, but you could tell the donuts were a few days old. en again we were blazed and it was all ne.
found survival in Cannatown wasn’t so easy, either. So many of them did the only thing they knew how to do: they became bowl-swabbers. Every day they would scrape and clean the insides of bowls, for personal and corporate accounts. Every day, they toiled, bent over their
step, was a present and a note. Inspired by his generous service scraping and cleaning their bowls during his retirement, his neighbors together pitched in to buy him a giant Scooby Snacks nugget. Hillis said he was so moved, that he called everyone over to smake it with
“Nothing, nothing, feels better than smaking dank with a person in need. And being there for the rst time, that’s just special.” - Neighbor, Jan Newton
work tables doing green-collar work, so that future generations could enjoy a better life. Flash forward forty years, and Hillis was nally retiring at the age of 79. He had still never packed ower, forced by his own pride for decades to smake only the resin he scraped, an ailment that le him with a dirty, yellow-toothed grin, and the unwashable stink of bong tar. His associates at Goopen- heim’s wanted him to smake ower at the retirement party. ey readied a large group bong, but the local grinderage got the order wrong and ac- cidentally delivered and packed brown shwag. It was a mess. e party lasted just minutes. Traumatically, the experience got even worse when Hillis recklessly sprinted into an eight-foot rack of metal chairs and began st-ghting them. But everything changed last Tuesday on the eve of Hillis’ birthday, when he received a knock on the door at 4:20 in the aernoon. ere, on the door-
him; everyone brought their own nuggetry and those that partook said they’d never seen an old man so heartwarmingly happy to nally smake kind bud. “is is what it’s all about,” said Jan Newton, who lives just down the street. “Nothing, nothing, feels better than smak- ing dank with a person in need. And being there for the rst time, that’s just special.” ose close to Hillis say the change has been drastic. Long gone are the resin repositories nailed to walls throughout his house, and glass cabinet of scrapers. He recently rented a cabin to watch Dark Side of the Rainbow and enjoys a new hobby, staring at black light posters, for up to “four to six hours per day.” It’s clear he’s been given another lease on life. “For so long people have been telling me to just try some ower,” he remarked last Sunday as he packed for a river raing trip. “Years ago I would’ve packed resin, but you can see it’s only ower now, ‘til death do us part.”
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Cannatown Travel & Leisure
D rive on a blustery early spring day out north of Cannatown, up the foothills past Black Reefer Falls, into the the dona Juanita Valley, and you’ll come upon Ripped, a small little town known to few outside its forest walls. Without thinking, you can zip through the main strip, in and out and further skyward in just seconds, “I GOT RIPPED IN RIPPED” A Small Town, an Epicenter of Major Vibes
ere’s a calmer air here too, a thick smoke rolling in every morning just half- past nine, when the earliest of risers tra- verse to the misty morning rigs to spark up the dawn dabs that billow and blast anyone in a giant valley-wide hotbox. “We’re family here,” says Harmony Blazer, head of Nails at the local utility. “I just really can’t think of anything more self-actualizing than rolling out 50-gallon barrels of wax to wake and bake a whole valleys’ worth of people at once.”
e Town of Ripped
unaware of the living his- tory you’re passing by. But for those who stop to ex- plore, this strangely magical destination presents a truly unique world apart from the one we know. Hidden among the lush trees and cavernous rocky pleats cleaving Mt. IcyBong’s south face, the alpine village sports a grand view of some of the High- land’s highest peaks, a sort
of last-stop chill before adventuring into the clouds, all with a laid-back country lilt some would even call “old-school.” Time moves dierently here. From the rst butt-plant in the benches at the lo- cal train station, to the passage through skunky elds and into the picturesque downtown, the vibrant colors and resonat- ing mountain sounds usher in the serenity that comes once in a blue moon, away from the stresses of every day life. Despite the remote location, it doesn’t take long to bump into new friends; from the front steps of Ginny’s coee emporium to Dale’s back porch, to the couch at Fred’s, everyone has shared the smoking circle. ey still use a match to spark up a bowl. You can still buy dime sacks down on the corner from Willie. ere’s a free bubbler on each corner, and a giant communal bong in the public quare.
“To me, that’s it, ” she says. “at’s the job.” With each morning’s roast follows a knee-jerk hunt for breakfast, a ritual yearning that sends many locals straight into the streets, wandering like zombies for the nearest café. Which isn’t a bad thing, because the local economy exists on the premise that people are ravenously return- ing to diners about every few hours. Foodies with munchies will want to fre- quent the Krispies King, the local “devil’s workshop” of decadence, and an establish- ment that actually touts its formal boycott by members of the Dentist Association. Try a donut-and-icecream sandwich, drizzled in strawberry sauce and topped in Mike and Ike candies. Follow it up with a double-shot of pure Hershey’s syrup and Foreman- Grilled Hotdogs with aged ketchup. ose who grow suddenly tired aer a
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grand journey into the Highlands will want to check out a number of the boutique inns dotting the rocky landscape, all with their own unique charm. e Wax Well oers just that -- a large vat of wax for midnight vapers -- in the foyer at an old country hospital converted to a lodge. For the ghost-hunting
farmer Gwen Hinckel the answer isn’t what you think. e stories pre-date Perin--we’re talking hundreds of years ago. Hinkel notes that Ripped is built on “hallowed” ground. It is a place the ancients called “Blessed Earth”; the rst settlers
from Amsterdam hailed it as “Groen in Onze Ogen,” literally translating to the “Green in Our Eyes.” Each group in history noted the peculiar sluggishness derailing the thought pro- cess, psychedelic sensations
e rst settlers from Amsterdam hailed it as “Groen in Onze Ogen,” literally translating to the “Green in Our Eyes.”
adventurous pursuing a more hair-raising experi- ence, there’s always Harold’s Haze, a mysterious hillside manor with a litany of haunting stories going back a hundred years.
felt throughout both day and night, the occasional bouts of raging munchies, and how cool the black light posters of traveling gypsies looked at 4:20 in the aernoon. “Science would tell us it’s a strange mix of limestone and other minerals, creat- ing a rare geological high not unlike the sedentary tendencies felt by the residents of Couchlock,” says Hinckel. “In plain English, to be here is to be high. To lived in Ripped is to be high. To live the high life.” e theory could explain the magical buzz--if not, aura--felt throughout your stay. It explains, why, even if abstaining for journalistic integrity, you may still nd yourself wearing mismatched pants and coat, seeking directions to the local ice cream shoppe from an angry chipmunk at three in the morning. (Cont. on pg 181)
“Most of our guests freak out,” said 3rd- generation proprietor Alfred Haze. “Even with warnings, the paranoia is still pretty common. Every sound puts you on edge.” A few of the older folks in town will tell you this is the birthplace and eventual hideout of Gamut Perin, the infamous alchemist said to have engineered the highest, stonedest bud the Highlands have ever seen. It made Ripped infamous at least for a period of time nearly a century ago, when it was second-most-populous in the Highlands and county seat. Everything was lost, though, when a late-night-re in the townsquare iron bong leapt via windy gusts to nearby buildings and the entire town nearly went up in ames. “And that was the last time they made the
bricks out of hemp,” says town Historian Bartelby James of Resinville. e question most asked by touring gardeners is “How?” a da grower, with barely any prior knowledge of cannabis, could walk out of the Highlands decades later with now-lost seeds of the world’s most potent bud? Some say he found it. According to local archeologist and hobby
Revelers at Krispies King lose their minds aer shots of Hershey’s Syrup
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Dispatches from the Highlands
$4.20 Cents
between a winter dreamland and a hymnal, is perfect for this time of year. Mering's previous eort Titanic Rising was featured here and my then description of her sounding "right at home alongside contempo- raries like Father John Misty or Sharon Van Etten" with "shades of Beach Boys melodic themes, or early 70s Southern California songwriting" is fully applicable here. at 2019 release was apparently part one of a tril- ogy with And In the Darkness, Hearts
Album Notes from Erickson “The Soundtrack to your Chill”
Little Simz No ank You
Little more than 15 months aer
Sometimes I Might Be Introvert , Little Simz is back with No ank You . It's been an eventful year for the British artist. Her 2021 LP garnered critical acclaim, including the Mercury Award. She attracted additional attention for the cancellation, and the justication as to why, of her US tour. en in December, somewhat surprisingly, she dropped No ank You , only ten tracks but with no shortage of views on numerous topics, most notably the music industry, her thoughts on what that ideally should entail, and her experience within. Simz' ow and rhyme schemes largely pick up where they le o, and as with Sometimes , the lyrics demand attention. e unabashed condence in the message and delivery eludes the braggadocio that so oen accompanies music of the ilk. e R&B/soul orchestral avor of the beats and backing tracks bubble with a distilled crispiness. Simz chose No ank You as the title for reasons that become increasing in number as the album unfolds. On behalf of her fans, the response is equally clear: No, thank you .
Aglow representing the second install-
ment. God help me whenever the nal entry arrives because this one lands a notch above Titanic and was assuredly in my top ten of 2022. Guranfoe Gumbo Gumbo (October 2022)
Prog rock is a delicate needle to thread. e genre itself is a wide spectrum, but far too of- ten it can easily come across as overly showy, grandiose, pompous, where the tunes are an excuse for the musicians to exhibit their virtu- osity while creating the auditory equivalent of empty calories. Not so for Guranfoe. e English quartet out of Norwich cra accessible compositions that allow their prociency to be demonstrat- ed in an organic fashion. In other words, the horse is before the cart. Yes, Guranfoe are progy, but also psych, and jam fans will likely nd something to indulge themselves in here as well. e title of their second album, Gumbo Gumbo , stood out considering the deployment of the word from other artists who could be classied along similar genre lines at various times through- out their careers. Funnily enough, the band went by the name "Gumbo Variation" for the rst four years of their existence. Go gure.
Weyes Blood And In the Darkness, Hearts Aglow
Gorgeous. I am unable to more succinctly sum up And In the Darkness, Hearts Aglow , the h album from Natalie Mering, aka Weyes Blood. Arrangements, vocals, harmo- nies, it's all simply stunning. Released in No- vember, the spellbinding mood, somewhere
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Recipes from Cousin D Berry Creamy Patties
shiny (but will still be somewhat dry to the touch). I found it best to rst mix by hand, then I put in a big resealable bag and contin- ued to knead it. Dust your surface with spare powdered sugar. Roll the mixture out thin and use a small circular cutter or an old open pill bottle, shot glass, you name it. Re-roll your leover dough and repeat until fully used up. Freeze the discs. en, melt your chocolate and dip each. Chocolate chips and other types may require more refrigeration, choco- late with less additives holds up the best. is recipe makes a heaping harvest of pat- ties depending on size, so you’ll have more than enough to package in clear boxes and bows for Valentine’s day. eir dosage and thickness are up to you -- along with even the avor or shape (you could change for each season). Want to take this recipe to the next level? Find a heart-shaped cutter. Bon Appetit!
e Peppermint Patty deserves its well- earned place in the munchies hall of fame. Only problem is, it doesn't make much of a Valentine treat. Today we experiment with what you might call a more romantic hue! Ingredients: 1 can sweetened condensed milk 1 bag of powdered sugar 1/3 cup (infused!) Crisco 2-Pack Strawberry avoring Red food coloring 2 tsp vanilla or cream avor Melting Chocolates (Chips, wafers, etc) Directions: is one’s really quite simple. Mix the milk, sugar, Crisco, avoring and coloring--using a mixer with a dough hook if you’ve got one. It’ll be ready when it looks wet and almost
101
STUDIO CITY
Franklin Canyon Park, Mountains Recreation & Conservation Authority
BEL AIR
WEST HOLLYWOOD
405
2
BEVERLY HILLS
BRENTWOOD
10
2
10
BALDWIN HILLS
Kenneth Hahn State Recreation Area
1
405
Marina Del Rey
PLAYA VISTA
1
GLENDALE
5
2
Griffith Park
Forest Lawn
101
HOLLYWOOD
5
2
Elysian Park
CENTRALA
101
2
LOS ANGELES
10
MIDCITY
10
CRENSHAW
VERMONT SQUARE
110
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