“I got some groceries, some peanut butter, to last a couple of days… ￼I got three passports, a couple of visas – You don’t even know my real name”
this ain’t no disco This ain’t no fooling around No time for dancing, or lovey dovey I ain’t got time for that now… (Actually, i have allll the time for lovey dovey ;))
The fact that this peanut butter is like as good as any peanut butter I’ve ever had in the world, and it’s available at a certain store that the wife found and totally reasonably priced, organic, made in Canada and delicious… makes Japan perfect for me , no change required (well maybe a few things about the patriarchy but that’s another post)
High in Jamaica, Uncle Weed visits Black Ras’ abundant mountain growfield to discuss “swamp weed” grown in morass versus “hard land weed” grown in volcanic soil with bat guano, plus varieties of ganja strains – both domestic and imported. Plus background about his family teaching him the ways of growing most anything and living an Ital lifestyle.
High up a mountaintop of ancient uplifted coral, unaccompanied by bodyguards, escalades or a single Marley (unlike “reincarnated” snoop), I found a happy place– surrounded by thousands of little ladies. I squeezed the buds to savour the moment and smells of mangos and papayas, limes and skunks.
Note audio recorder in hand. My wanders are different now. I still wonder. Snapped with a single-use disposable camera