flapjack-theking asked: What is your favorite moment from Flapjack?

When the alien rides his bicycle back home, and makes a phone call.

flapjacksblog2 asked: Do you consider yourself a pirate adventurer?

As opposed to a ninja adventurer? Maybe. Whilst I have always respected pirates more than ninjas, Die Antwoord has once again made Ninjas respectable.

I’m out of sight now and I can’t hear the sounds of the sirens. Something is wrong. My heart is beating fast. Must have taken too many amphetamines. Don’t even know what was in my system when I woke up. Paranoia is starting to kick in. I can’t deal with amphetamine psychosis right now. I need something to bring me down. A few swigs of Evan. Grimacing at the taste. Good shit, but hard to drink with amphetamine cotton mouth.

Fast forward half an hour. I’m driving, but don’t know where I am. Noises in my head. Voices. Things on the windshield. Amphetamine hallucinations. The car is changing shape. Sirens all around me. Screeching tires. Thud and a bump. Guess I took out a mailbox. Hope it was a mailbox: too many children in suburbia. Something is out to get me. Are there helicopters? Fuck. More Evan. This has all got to be in my head. I gotta get out of here, but I don’t know where I am. Where to go? 

I pull over to the side of the road. Out of the car to the trunk. Grab the .357 magnum and all the ammo I have. Can’t be too safe in these dark times. The voices are still going, and I’m being surrounded by dark-amphetamine demon hallucinations with fangs and teeth mashing and tears of blood coming from their black eyes and cloudy retinas. I’m in deep this time. Too deep. I cock the .357. More Evan. The demons have erections. Huge bulbous scaly reptilian erections spurting goo with every step. Veins bulging. This is turning into a demon orgy, some kind of sexual ceremony ending in sacrifice and I’m the sacrifice. This is too real. This can’t be the amphetamines.

I take aim with the .357. Please God, I know I’ve forsaken you but If you have my back this one time I swear to You that I will change my ways. I’ll go to church. Volunteer. Feed the homeless. I’ll be like Mother fucking Theresa for fucks sake. Just save me. Amen. I fire the first shot and the demons start to close in. Bam Bam Bam Bam. Die fucking hell-spawn. Bam. Click. Shit. Reload. I’m going out in style tonight.

I walked out to the Nova. The car looked fine. Good. Hadn’t been in an accident. I crossed my fingers. Had to check the back seat for blood. You never know what happened the night/days before you come out of a blackout. Always gotta check for blood. I opened the door and looked in. No blood. A lot of shit though. I’m talking shit smeared all over the back seat. How the hell did it get there? What happened? I must have really gone overboard this time.

Yelling. I look over to the source of the yelling. The manager of the hotel is pointing at me and yelling to his coworker, who is on his cell phone. I can’t tell what he is saying though. I think it’s in arabic or something. I must have pissed them off.

I run into the motel and grab whatever shit I need. The rest of my clothes, my cigarettes, my wallet, and a half empty handle of Evan. I walk out to my car and throw them in the back seat. Sirens start sounding in the distance. Fuck. I pop a couple more amphetamines and jump in the car.

I gun it, pull out, and onto the road. I look back and see why they must be so angry. The windows of the front office are busted out and there is a soda machine on it’s side with cans spilled all over the place. Nice. The sirens start to get louder so I gun it and find the nearest side street. If I get deep enough into suburbia they will never find me. Can’t use the highways, they are too easy to catch someone in.

It happened again. I woke up in a random motel room last night. I’ve been traveling for months, which is why I haven’t posted, and lots of shit has gone down…

As I usually do when I wake up from a bender in which I’ve been blacked out for quite awhile, I got up from bed and searched the motel room. First I saw the room key. Motel six. After getting my bearings a bit, I started looking for signs of struggle. Blood, broken objects, whatever. Sometimes blackouts get crazy and bad things happen. My body was fine, save for a few bruises and the hotel room was in decent shape, save for being covered in beer bottles and a couple of handles of Evan Williams. 

I stumbled over to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Sacks under my eyes. Shit. Reached into my pocket. Bottle of amphetamines. Pop a couple to wake up. Look around. Panties on the ground, but no girl filling them. How could someone forget their panties? Didn’t matter. Had to get out of there, so I didn’t get stuck with the bill…If I hadn’t already paid. I hoped i didn’t give them a real identity. If they knew my name I would have to pay for this. Maybe even get some jail time. I did a sweep of the room and grabbed all my shit. The Nova was parked out front. The time had come to escape…

to be continued..

Now I know y’all like to smoke your marihuana…and I do to. But most of us pick it up from our dealer in eights or half-tracks for 25-50 or 30-60. How does it get here? Well that’s an interesting story…The first way I’m gonna discuss is the easiest way:

It comes from suburbia! Having been a grower and associated with growers at numerous points in my life, I can tell you that it is being grown everywhere. Up the Stoners!

Picture this…walk into a house, back to a back room. The door is closed but there is a luminescent glow coming from under it. Your host opens the door and there are a bunch of marijuana plants. One part of the room is used for vegetative growing, where a few plants are grown in 24 hour light till they are ready for fruiting. Later they are moved into the fruiting area, where the light cycle is closer to 12/12.

The room feels like it has a sun in it it is so bright…The glow of the Metal Halide and High pressure sodium lights is alien and other-worldy. The plants smell beautiful.

Growing, while not the most expensive process in the world, is risky. But profitable when it works out. After it is grown, the growers sell it in bulk to the sellers, making a nice profit. Then the sellers jack up the price even more, paying 280 to 375 an ounce and then selling it from 420 to 480 an ounce in eighths/quarters/grams or whatevs.

And that is how it happens. Magic. Beauty. THC!

nofingerss asked: post more. please.

I’m working on it…been quite busy. Will hopefully start soon!

I think we’ve all felt this way at one point or another…

I’m sorry I haven’t posted in forever, but I have been traveling and adventuring and have not had internet most of the time. I am now once again settling down and hopefully will be posting again soon. Fuck yea!