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Wednesday, September 07, 2005
Hey, hey, my, my, this hippy is always HIGH!
And hello to you my fine fucking friends. How the hell are you? Are you digging the scene? Is it your hearty-party electric party dream?
Yeah, thought so.
Well it’s a sunny Wednesday morning, here in the fabulous ghettos of north London. The crack heads are still sleeping and the gang members are too, dreaming of Glock 17s and endless supplies of rock. It’s safe to go out and take care of your business. But in 7 or 8 hours, the bad guys will return to these mean streets, searching for easy prey and easier pickings. Lock up your cars and your teenagers!
Mrs. H is home and yipppeee, yipppeee, came through her surgery just fine. I wish the same could be said for the NHS.
The NHS, or National Health Service, for those of you outside of modern Britain is our nationalised health care provider. In theory, it is suppose to provide health care for the entire nation, for free. On paper, this sounds like a wonderful idea and in an ideal world, it should be.
But we all know we don’t live in an ideal world!
The standard and level of care is atrocious, the facilities are an embarrassment. Obviously, I can really only write about London, since I don’t know what the rest of the country is really like. Around these parts, it sucks moosecock. Through a straw!
Without going into too many specifics, I’ll try to give you a little flavour of what this experience was like for Mrs. H. In the interests of confidentiality and respect, I won’t reveal that many details either.
- The surgery Mrs. H had lasted about 30 mins. And how long did Mrs. H wait for this 30 minute visit to an operating theatre? 10 months.
- We arrived at 7am at the day surgery ward. No one could tell us anything. Six hours later, Mrs. H was taken to the operating theatre. On a gurney, via ambulance, to another building, elsewhere in the facility. Impressive.
- Mrs. H was gone for over 4 hours. In that time, I was given no news. I was given nothing, but attitude for even enquiring politely.
- The staff are rude, unpleasant and ill-mannered. They don’t listen or know how to interact with people in any meaningful way
- The ward was filthy, with peeling paint and grime. The cleaner merely shifted the dirt around on her one visit to the room in 17 hours
- After the surgery, Mrs. H was ignored. Her IV drip ran dry for an hour and the refused to get her so much as a drink of water.
- The staff are lazy. They all talk about how over-worked nurses are in the NHS. Bullshit, I saw these lazy fucking cunts standing around doing nothing most of the time. I’m not exaggerating either.
- In the end, I took Mrs. H home early, they wanted her to stay overnight, but it was just so pitiful.
The conditions could best be described as “third world”. It’s embarrassing that the system has turned out to be such a cunting motherfucking piece of cunting shit.
I’ve made a promise to Mrs. H, that if she ever needs any other sort of treatment, we go private. I don’t care what it costs, she’s not going through anything like that again.
BUPA here we come! The NHS can suck my cock! But only if it uses an antiseptic mouthwash first. Blecccch!
If I was only a tiny bit crazier, I would return to that ward with a machete and chop every one of them into the tiniest of bite-sized bits. I would then feed the bits to some pigs. Once the pigs shit it all out, I would then burn the shit with petrol. Then I would take the ashes, pack it into a tin and bury it at the end of my garden. Then I would pray to Satan every night for a year to damn their eternal souls to hell and torture them with gusto.
And once I’d done all that, then I’d go after their families.
Yes, I am that fucking angry and disgusted by the entire thing. Cunts!
Enough. They are not worth the time and effort. How about some drug news!
I’ll start out with an interesting article from the INDEPENDENT on cannabis connoisseurs. I’ve always had a taste for the higher-end bud and I’ve been lucky that up until recently, have had a decent source. That source is gone now, so I need a new one.
Do you grow gourmet bud? Do you have extra? Do you every sell any? Would you like to give some to the internet’s favourite hippy? I’d appreciate it far more than any of your mates. My dope palate is educated and I could praise your green fingers with a depth of knowledge unmatched by anyone else you know.
Perhaps you have a good supplier yourself, who would love to have this hippy as a regular customer. I’m regular and prolific in my dope purchases and don’t mind paying a premium for top-class, organic, hydroponically grown, hybrid strain, THC laden bud! I’m cool, I’m happening and I know how to keep a dealer sweet!
Even better, perhaps you have a relationship with one of the fine organised distribution networks in London. You know what I mean, you ring a number, give some secret password and within an hour, some guy on a moped is at your door with the finest selection drugs that money can buy! Oh man, I would love to hook up with a service like that. It would be as easy as ordering pizza and I wouldn’t mind not getting a free bottle of Pepsi with every delivery!
Here’s another cool story I picked up on the other day, regarding a recent survey done here in the UK on trends in drug availability and usage. It’s from my favourite lefty, liberal paper, the GUARDIAN. Even though they haven't done a feature report on me, or named me their drug correspondent (I know, can you believe it?), it’s still my fav paper. So there, fuckers!
The report says that in some parts of the UK, pills are selling for 50p a go. By pills, of course I mean “E”, ecstasy, or MDMA. Fifty fucking pence!!! That’s dirt cheap.
I know they are not as good, or as strong as they used to be, but still, that is just unbelievable. Do you understand the concept of supply-side economics? It’s simple. When there is a glut in supply, prices drop. The last time I bought a pill, it was five pounds. That same fiver will now get you ten pills. I’m not sure where exactly I would have to travel to get this bargain, as they didn’t provide purchasing or contact details, but it sounds to me like they are 10 times more available, if you believe in simple math.
The war on drugs, eh?
If people want to take MDMA, and believe me, they do, where’s the logic in sending them to the street to buy any old crap. How about some harm reduction? How about selling them legally, with quality control and age checks and even VAT! I’d pay an extra 17.5% on my drugs, if I could be sure I was getting something of a high quality!
Even better, that same article talks about the increasing popularity of Ketamin, or “special K”, or and this was a new one on me, “techo-smack’.
Ketamin is an anaesthetic, or horse traquillizer. During the Vietnam war they started using it on people in field surgery, because of the quote-unquote disassociative effects of the drug. In plain English, that means it separates your mind from your body. Cool, eh?
Currently, Ketamin exists in a grey area legally, which means there are no real penalties for possession. They are talking about making it class “C”, which is the same as steroids and weed.
I tried Ketamin once, around 20 years ago. Yes, I know I’m old.
I hated it; it really fucked me up. I was living in a very small city at the time, I mean really small, one square mile. It was literally 14 streets by 14 streets on a grid. You couldn’t get lost if you tried.
I didn’t try, but I got lost just the same, walking 2 blocks up and 2 blocks over. The round trip journey, on foot, took over 2 hours. My brain was mush.
Kids, stay away from special K! Listen to the hippy! Stick to weed, shrooms and other natural goodies!
The shit is worse than bad. It’s typical that this nasty crap is legal and moving to class C, while my beloved and recently banned, all natural magic mushrooms are now class A. Fucking nonsense!
And finally, another one from today’s GUARDIAN, which says the Spanish are the most prolific consumers of cocaine in the world.
I could have told you that! They all talk fast and stay out late every night, of course they dig charlie!
And on that somewhat stereotypical note, I bid you all adieu. I hope you enjoyed this rambling hippy rant! Catch ya next time, my beloved hippyfans and fuckers alike!