LONDON - HOW MUCH COKE IS BAD FOR ME?

A dentist friend treated a woman who had done so much cocaine it had rotted a hole between her nose and mouth, as well as perforating her septum. This woman had a three-centimeter-by-1.5-centimeter-wide black rancid pit on the roof of her mouth through which her rotting nose would drip. Her mouth was her brain’s own colostomy bag.

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.

SNEAKY LEAF'S DIARY OF A DEALER - WELCOME TO NEW YORK, FUCKFACE!

It took less than a minute for two guys and their steel-reinforced Timberland boots to kick in my friend Marvin’s door. Neighbors said they both had handguns drawn and ready for a shootout if necessary. But whoever stormed in and stole a pound of weed and about 80 grams of primo hash probably didn't expect a fight because they knew Marvin and his schedule pretty well. These guys hit his place hard, exactly at the time he left every day to meet his girlfriend who worked in Manhattan.

SNEAKY LEAF'S DIARY OF A DEALER - A NAKED GIRL AND DIESEL FATIGUE

If you live in New York (or any big city for that matter), you know how much of a bummer weed-delivery guys can be. They're always showing up late, skimping you on the weight, and are generally pretty miserable human beings. But not Sneaky Leaf, our resident "guy" with Santa Claus-sized sacks full of marijuana. He shows up on time (and has the courtesy to call you if he's going to be even five minutes late), has a multitude of varieties to choose from, offers referral discounts, and is just one hell of a nice guy. So one day when we were buying something with a name like Blueberry Pink Skullcrusher 2000X Beast Stink Marmaduke Midge Tickler, we said, "Hey, Sneaky Leaf, why don't you write a column that simultaneously expounds your weed buff tendencies while exploring your undoubtedly interesting backlog of drug-dealing stories?" And to our surprise he said, "Sure." So here it is... the first installment of Sneaky Leaf's Diary of a Dealer. Enjoy!

NEW YORK - BEGRIMED TOKENS

The big excitement of my first high school trip to New York was the eager buzz concerning who would be the first to find a crack vial on the sidewalk. I don't think I saw anything but ground the entire time we were supposed to be admiring all the civilized fuss. On the bus, heading back home to West Virginia, this one gal continuously trumpeted having found that empty vial. She failed to cough up the evidence though, pleading that if she procured the sacred curio, she'd be facing some stone cold jail time. And we were all like, Bitch, you know you'd be dangling your vial on a necklace string if you had the shit. Despite all the cool things I had seen, and the energy, lights, and people, I still felt completely gypped by my New York experience not rewarding me with true druggie grit. I wanted to smash my new Hard Rock Cafe shot glass in brutal disillusionment!

SPAIN - PICOGRAMS FOR EVERYONE

Two years ago we woke up with news stating that Spain was the world leader in cocaine and whiskey consumption (take that, Scotland), so a research the Centro Superior de Investigaciones Científicas (CSIC) recently published shouldn’t surprise anyone. The folks at the CSIC’s lab stated that they have detected in Barcelona’s and Madrid’s atmospheres traces of cannabis, cocaine and heroin—the latter found only in Madrid, which must be remains of the 80s Movida punk scene. But before anyone hits the roof over these declamations of consumption, we should probably read the statements of the research and see what it says, exactly...

HAMILTON'S PHARMACOPIA - SCAMIFLU!

Only a couple weeks ago some drunk guy at a party was shouting at me about swine flu and I had no idea what he was talking about. Now pandemic profiteers are selling Tamiflu (one of swine flu’s only treatments) for more than $300 a box. By weight that’s 14 times more valuable than gold. I just got this hysterical email from an online pharmacy selling the stuff:

HAMILTON'S PHARMACOPIA - NEW WEED-RELATED VOMITING DISORDER

Yesterday was 4/20, hell yes, the most blazed day of the year! I spent the day completely sober in the library. But I was reading about this new disorder that is becoming a huge sensation in the gastroenterology community. Suddenly all these hardcore stoners are becoming crippled by overpowering waves of nausea that cause them to vomit non-stop for hours and hours on end, and the only known cure is to take a hot shower. Seriously. It's being documented by independent case reports across the globe, and still nobody knows exactly what the cause is. Weed is supposed to prevent nausea not send you to the hospital in a sea of throw up, so this is totally bizarre.

LONDON - DRUG REPORT: MEPHEDRONE BENDER

 This hilarious and informative story has moved here.

NEW YORK - CRISIS AVERTED

On Friday my buddy was like, "Want to split a 60 from the jar guy?" I was like TOTALLY! You see, the jar guy is not for the masses and a close connection is required to obtain his services. The other option is the overpriced baggie of some powder that resembles cocaine but would more likely test positive for drano and baking powder. I even had an empty jar from weeks earlier sitting around for such an occasion, so splitting it up would be a breeze... unless disaster struck.

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