SNEAKY LEAF'S DIARY OF A DEALER - PUSSY ON THE BRAIN GIVES ME RED-ZONE PAINS

Every time you smoke a joint of sensimilla, you’ve got pussy on your brain! The resin female plants excrete is their sex juice, and these lovely ladies can reproduce from almost any point on their body. I know this is super basic shit that just about everyone who’s ever taken a bong rip knows, but it leads me to an important pair of questions: Is this why the clientele of almost every weed dealer I know is predominately male? And is the copious amount of marijuana I ingest the reason why I’m willing to bend the rules and deliver my goods to women who live in extremely dangerous “red zone” areas? We’ll probably never know for sure, but what I am certain of is that New York’s high-volume drug business means that these red zones can be found in every borough of this heavily policed city.

You have absolutely no rights in these areas. Police can search absolutely anyone for any reason at any time they fucking feel like it. Try to resist and you just might get torn a brand new asshole courtesy of an officer’s radio antenna. It could happen on the subway platform, just like that poor bastard who was sodomized in the Prospect Park station.

Clients call me from these areas pretty frequently because party-loving hipsters like to spend lots of money on drugs and that doesn’t leave much leftover for rent—so they move to seedy and crime-ridden neighborhoods because it’s cheap. I don’t do coke, I don’t know coke guys, and I don’t want to. That said, I wouldn’t have told David Bowie to stop snorting powder because he did his best work on that shit! But I digress… I must have at least a vague idea of where these dudes work because wherever they are, I can’t be. This is mainly because the way the police conduct surveillance on these guys is a whole other world—serious shit that I don’t want to fuck with. The other reason I steer clear of these areas is that I am an unarmed peacenick and an unabashed, life-loving hippie. If either the gangsters or police had a clue about what’s inside my little red car, I would be severely fucked.

This job has its glories, daily, but it also makes me a little hollow sometimes. Cold, hard numbers define the value of my life every day, and sometimes it’s worth just 85 bucks of profit. It can kind of make you feel like a whore. And yet the sound of a sweet female voice makes me risk it all for nothing.

These scary realities are flashing through my mind as I drive past an incredible angry mob that’s surrounded by at least four police cars. Everyone is going completely insane. I can’t look too long. My destination, a girl who’s a first time customer, is two blocks away, and when I arrive I see four massive dudes who look serious and as crazy as shithouse rats. Their vibe tells me everything I need to know. And, mysteriously, they disappear in the time it takes me to park my car. But sure as fuck they’re watching me, and I think they vanished because they were nervous I might be one of the many undercover cops working the area. Still, my brain is pulsating with thoughts of vagina so I bite the bullet and head inside.

The girl’s apartment is tidy, and a beautiful cat cautiously greets me as I close the door. The girl’s confidence is striking, especially considering she and I have never met. I’m (technically) a drug dealer and she is alone. I can tell she’s strong and could probably kick my ass, but she won’t need to—I am a gentleman. She’s a fashion designer and, damn, I like her, which is a problem because there is no way in fuck I’m coming back to this neighborhood. But I can’t help myself. As I’m leaving I say, “I will be glad to see you again.” It’s a true statement, but another meeting will never happen at this fucking location. Yet I still dig my grave a little deeper and say, “Yeah, you’re a total sweetie and I will definitely be back.” Goddamn it. I’ve just got too much pussy on the brain!

SNEAKY LEAF

Comments

[nathan]

i thought girls didn't buy pot because they know they can always get it for free from guys. when has a girl asked for a bowl and not gotten it? never.

[purple smudgehole]

good observation nathan. now go eat a hot dog.

[anon]

i'm going out on a limb and guessing that is walton county florida. i was just there a month ago. damn i had no clue there was weight around like that.

[williebeamen]

you defintely get different kinda vibes from weed dealers vs coke dealers. coke dealers are either always pissed off about something or are nice but just looks too serious. weed dealers can be really cool but not cool enough for you to want to stick around with them all day.

[kimono]

@nathan
i've been hanging out with this chick lately who's cute as hell and buys her own pot. rolls her own pot and shares it with the fellas.

[TheDon]

what neighboorhood is this?

[@williebeamen]

weed dealers are cool until you take the first hit. then they morph into someone annoying hanging out at your place. its like cinderella at midnight but you don't end up with a pumpkin just a douchebag.

[Paolo]

Hate to nit pic but the psychoactive resin found in female cannabis is the same resin males produce in a smaller quantity and it serves no reproductive purpose. The female reproductive organ is called the pistil and can be seen protruding from the top of every calyx. These are the "little red hairs" found a lot on high grade cannabis. These hairs are the pollen receptacles (the male pollen producing organ is called the stamen) and are void of any psychoactive resins. Botanists can't explain why we just love to get high, but some theorize that the resin was originally intended to act as a defense against mammal herbivores

SCIENCE!!!!

[bong n bong]

haha. how high does the guy in the picture look? im sure that he is a cop or whatever but he is looking seriously dazed.

[@paolo]

relax. and i know you dont hate nit picking, you love it.

[@bong n bong]

i love when cops find a grow area and burn bonfires of plants. they stand as close as possible to the pyre to "guard" it from who knows? maybe the cameraman from the local paper is going to try to run off with a burning pot plant? i don't know, but it sure seems like they are trying to get high on tax dollars to me.

[louuuuu]

i'm new to the city. i'm tired of using my bf's drug dealers. sneaky leaf save me.

[Halcyon]

Lol everyone in Cali has/sells/buys weed. No biggie. Oh, cops don't care either. It feels good man. *shrug*

[Blah]

Once again this guy talks about liking pussy, but comes up with nothing. I want to hear about a cool dealer--who has some moves--any moves! I think if this chick answered the door with only socks on, Sneaky would look back and wonder whether he should have tried to hold her hand.... It's annoying to read. C'mon Sneaky, some of us want sex stories...

[blarg]

so what are these red zones in the city? specifically.

[purple smudgehole]

@blarg: up your ass

[Anonymous]

Area's without money. Mostly brown and Spanish speaking, usually the most fun to hand out in so long as you're not holding anything. Uptown Manhattan, Spanish Harlem, anywhere in brooklyn nowhere near the L train and of course the entirty of the Bronx. It Sucks.

[chingy]

This guy is a total pussy who writes articles that read like bad detective novels. Oh, youve got "pussy on the brain" all the time? And its because you love to smoke "sensimilla?" Instead of writing a shitty story about going to a scary "red zone" and not getting laid, I would recommend smoking a little less weed and growing a pair. That will increase your chances of getting some pussy by about 150%. Until then, eat shit and save your shitty stories for your clients.