Wednesday, 14 January 2009

[Turtlewind] I Tried, I Didn't Like It, I Did Not Impale

I have a very serious problem with cannabis. Ever since the young apprentices at the Turtlewind Scorpion Research Academy discovered that I had mislead them as to the true provenance of the 'nettles' behind my greenhouse, I have been tripping along to the police station most weekday afternoons to bail out one or other of the little tykes, who can frequently be seen falling asleep over fences. I had no idea you could get so mashed by smoking bindweed.

And that's the thing. They're so much easier to handle when they're stuffed so full of low-grade narcotics that they belch colours. It's only when they're in their right minds that they ask disquieting questions such as: 'Why haven't you ever shown us a real scorpion? That toy's fooling no one!'; 'Why do I have to sign this?' and the most frustrating one: 'Are you a real doctor?'

But the cannabis issue sends this island's legal world into a frenzy. Crackheads. Just because it causes cancer, impotence, memory loss and paranoia, the Man doesn't want anyone to smoke it. Why can't Brown think of me, surrounded by a load of drugs-deprived adolescents and thinking bad thoughts. Placebos work to an extent, and I spent a merry evening passing out Oxo cubes to the addicted scamps, but if I can't find a new dealer pretty soon, they're going to start wondering how they got to Turtle Grange, and we can't have that.

In addition, I think it is demeaning to arthritis sufferers that they are forced to break the law in order to get the medication they need. Or I would, if most of them weren't aging hippies mocking your moral crisis as they get happily wasted rolling phat ones and giggling at pens.

It's obvious really, don't you think? If ganja IS the only thing that these poor arthritic sods can use to relieve their suffering then... well... HOW DO THEY SKIN UP? My good friend the Earl of Rochester can barely shake hands with Kevin, Squire of Rochester since his arthritis developed. The thought of the old goat still having the dexterity to roll a phat one is almost as laughable as the thought of Ben Affleck having sex (with a woman).

Even so, there are so many good reasons to legalise cannabis, and no real bad ones. There's the comedy: arthritis patients going to their dealers only to be told: 'No Mon, I ain't sellin' you dis s*** without a prescription, Mon.' There's the practical: the police have better things to be doing than telling me that my lanky blond Belgian apprentice is catching butterflies in his teeth in some old lady's garden.

But most importantly, spare a thought to my doped-up band of adolescent slave workers. If the Kettering drug drought (brought on by an exceptionally relaxed WI convention) doesn't abate soon, I'm going to have to break out the acid toads. Mmm...

Your friend with the first sample free,
The Mysterious Mr Turtlewind

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  1. Okay, I know this question has nothing to do with this post, but it's the only way I can contact you other than your Youtube Channel, and the message which I sent you on there still lies unanswered. My question that I want to ask you is: WHY IN GODS NAME DO YOU NOT HAVE YOUR E-MAIL ADDRESS ON THIS WEBSITE?! Seriously, it's common sense and I really would like to e-mail you a few requests for articles.

  2. Yes, I do need to, someone else has mentioned that too. Consider it done! (Well, by tonight!)