Dozen dopey yarns - tales from the pot prohibition

203 Pages·1979·2.906 MB·English

by  McRoach J. J.

A DOZEN
DOPEY YARNS
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
How to make a million dollars quick.
How to make half a million dollars not so quick.
How to make fifty thousand dollars slow.
How to scrape up ten thousand bucks with luck.
How to live off the government.
How to relate to poverty.
Poverty can be fun, can’t it?
How to apply for unskilled jobs.
Suicide; Do you owe it yourself and others?
A DOZEN
DOPEY YARNS
TALES FROM THE
POT PROHIBITION
By J.J.McROACH
Copyright © 1979 by J.J. McRoach.
National Library of Australia
Card Number and ISBN:
0 908200 00 5 (Paperbound edition)
First published in Australia.
Australian Marijuana Party edition: March 1979.
This book is copyright. Apart from any fair dealing as permitted
under the Copyright Act, no part may be reproduced by any process
without permission. Enquiries should be addressed to the publishers.
Australian Marijuana Party
175 Brunswick St. Fitzroy, Victoria.
Printed in Australia by The Globe Press, Collingwood.
Cover Art and book layout design by
LAUREL OLSZEWSKI
McRoach caricature by MICHAEL LEUNIG.
Some of the yarns in this book, or sections of some yarns, or indeed
sections of some sections of some yarns have appeared in the following
magazines and/or newspapers: Nation Review (and the ‘New’ Nation
Review); The Living Daylights; Digger; Loose Licks; RAM magazine;
Bottom Line (it certainly turned out that way); Farrago; National U;
National Weed (New York); Australasian Weed.
“Fun and danger hardly put margarine
on the toast or feed the cat. You give
up toast and end up eating the cat.”
— Charles Bukowski.
CONTENTS
THE PAGES IN THIS BOOK ARE ACTUALLY GIANT
PERFORATED ANISEED FLAVOURED AMERICAN
JOINT PAPERS.
MAIL ORDER SHIT HITS THE FAN.
MANDRAXED WOMBATS AND THE MONSTER IN
ROOM 450
An account of Dr. Hunter S. Thompsons Australian
lecture tour.
MAGIC MUSHROOMS AND MULLUMBIMBY
MADNESS.
STEPPING OUT FOR A SNAKES HISS
WHO KILLED DON MACKAY?
WARNING: SMOKING MARIJUANA CAN LEAD TO
DANGEROUS DANGEROUS DRUGS!
THIS IS NOT A T.V. SHOW. THIS IS QUEENSLAND.
THE CASE OF THE UNDERSTANDING COP, THE
BENEVOLENT MAGISTRATE AND GEORGE AND
BRENDAS STRANGE NOTION ABOUT PLANTS.
CONFESSIONS OF A FAILED JUNKIE.
EVERYTHING YOU NEVER WANTED TO KNOW
ABOUT THE NEW ZEALAND MARIJUANA SCENE
AND COULDN’T BE BOTHERED ASKING ANYWAY.
STORMING THE SENATE
The story behind the Australian Marijuana Party
Senate Campaign.
THE PAGES IN THIS BOOK
ARE ACTUALLY GIANT
PERFORATED ANISEED
FLAVOURED AMERICAN
JOINT PAPERS.
Roll something in them and see.*
CERAMIC JOHN
the perfect pipe for
your favonte stash
• dissembles
for easy
cleaning
Send check
$19.95 or money order
only
(Wash. To:
Residents add CERAMIC
5% Tax) JOHN
*There is NO money back guarantee, dummy.
l
Let’s slip back in time, back a few years, back through a lot of hazy
clouds of cough cough marijuana smoke, back into the acid-munchers
ghetto of Melbourne’s grimy inner suburban Carlton, late 60s, early 70s,
approximately the Year of the Hip.
I’m living in this tiny arrangement of cramped corridors and poky
rooms with Grooch, and Grooch is in the lounge room entertaining part
of his ever-present collection of female dope smoking companions. I
leave the room for a few minutes and suddenly hear this godawful,
gargling, gurgling strangulated cry.
I rush back into the room and Grooch, all six long gangly feet of
him, is dancing wildly in the middle of the room like some berserk
bowlegged heron on a violent acid trip. He’s jabbering, his body is
entering heavy paroxysm, his tongue is flickering furiously, eyes rollin’,
and he’s waving a thin little pink piece of paper in the air.
“Ooooowahoo,oo,ooo.”
He’s trying to say something.
“Jeeeeezuz fuggin sheeeeyit.”
Words are beginning to form.
“Jeeeeeeeezuz man, look at, just take a fuggin . . . sheeet, just look
at this oh christ owahhhhhhhhh oo oooo.”
This pink paper seems to be causing all the consternation so I grab it
and examine it. It’s a cigarette paper, double size, with little perforated
holes.
“So it’s a fancy joint paper,” I say, “So what?”
Grooch however is not really listening even though his face is jutted
inches from mine and we’re confronting each other on a fairly danger-
ous eyeball to eyeball basis. His clawed contorted hand convulsively
jabs a papers-packet into the thin gap between our noses and four
extremely cross-eyed eyeballs try to focus on it.
The words on the packet say . . . Double Wide Papers . . .
Strawberry . . . Perforated.
American joint papers!
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