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presents
Druglore and Draft-Dodgers
by Gross Genitalia
Toxic File #56
Centre of Eternity 615.552.5747 40 megs Loads of Files HQ of Toxic Shock
[TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS]
With all the drug scares, drug busts, and drug deals of today, it seems only
fitting and proper to look back at the beginnings, to the hippies, the grass
smokers and the acid droppers. It is reasonable to look back at the times of
Augustus Stanley Owsley III, the King of Acid. This was also a time when the
freaked out hippies and druggies came up with some bizarre and TOXIC ways of
evading the draft (Army draft, sorry, no BEER involved).
The following accounts are some "drug legends" of American History.
[TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS]
A 23-year-old female clerical worker in Berkeley tells this legend:
There is a legend in Marin County [California] that there is a lost
marijuana field in the hills near Bolinas or between the Stinson Beach highway
between Mount Tamalpais and the Muir Woods, which was planted by a group of
people in 1943. Five or six people have told me about this field, all of whom
"knew" somebody who was in the original planting group. That date, 1943, has
been consistent from all sources.
I have been on three expeditions to find this field and know of eight
other attempts to find this field between 1960 and 1963. The group supposedly
collected three quart jars of marijuana seeds and scattered them in a one
hundred or two hundred square foot meadow in a circle of trees and brush.
Nobody has ever found this field of course.
There is also a story of some farmers in Indiana that grew hemp for
rope, bags, and other military supplies [time frame was about World War I].
After the war demand for hemp slacked and the fields were abandoned. However,
some of the plants continued to grow. Nearby kids came to pick the flowers
and the leaves from which hashish is obtained. Dismayed, the authorities
burned the fields. Bystanders stood by and inhaled deeply. One of the more
sympathetic officers said to them, "Don't say we've never given you anything!"
Another similar situation is said to have occurred in Mexico. At the time
of the crop burning, the winds changed and the whole population of a nearby
town got high.
[TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS]
A 19-year-old Indiana youth tells this story:
I was out in California during the summer just traveling around. I'd been
doing alot of dope, mostly grass, but was slowly running out of money. So
finally I found myself without any money or any place to stay. It ended up
with me sleeping on the beach for one night with plans on hitchhiking back
home the next day. At the time I was totally out of grass, and despondent
because I didn't have any money to buy some.
So I got up the next morning quite unstoned and started towards the road to
begin hitching. No rides came along, so I started walking. Before long I
glanced down and there was a baggie lying beside the road. I picked it up and
my gosh, it was half full of grass. Naturally this gave me a little boost in
spirit. I went into the woods beside the road and did a joint. It turned out
to be some of the best I'd had in a long time. Feeling much better I started
hitching again. Before long three freaks in a Volks bus stopped and picked
me up. We got around to smoking some grass and I rolled quite a few out of
my bag. But the strange thing is that it never seemed to go down in quantity.
It looked like exactly as much as I started out with.
I rode on with them for about three hours until they had to turn off. Even
though I had dope they laid another lid on me for free - it seems as though
they had quite a bit. I thanked them and took off truckin', both bags of
dope in my knapsack. About an hour later I stopped to roll a joint, but when
I looked for the dope I'd found, it was gone. I KNOW it was in my knapsack
because I'd checked it before I started walking. And it was in the bottom,
so it couldn't have just slipped out. Besides, the other dope was still there.
I finally decided that there must have been a mystic bag of dope - one
that could only belong to people who didn't have any. Because I found it when
I was out, it never seemed to get smaller, and it disappeared after I got
some other dope. I just picture it appearing all over to the poor unfortunates
who don't have any dope.
[TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS]
OWSLEY: KING OF ACID
Legends of "The Henry Ford of Acid"
-----------------------------------
Augustus Stanley Owsley III is the primary folk hero of Bay Area heads.
This character has such a mystical quality about him that any particular
story concerning his activities is bound to be both fantastic and quite
possibly true.
Owsley is the son of a wealthy family. In a few years before the illegal-
ization of LSD in California, Owsley made over a million dollars through the
sale of that drug. He was recently arrested for possession of over ten
million dollars worth of LSD. Owsley's name lent to any particular variety
of LSD, such as Owsley purples or Owsley 1000's, is an almost certain way
of promoting a sale because this man, according to folk belief, deals only
in the finest quality of acid.
In 1965 Owsley purchased 800 grams of lysergic acid from two chemical
companies and began manufacturing and selling his blue, aspirin-sized
tablets, which sold on the street for about five hundred dollars a dose.
The Los Angeles police department narcotics chief, Captain Alfred W. Trembly,
testified to a Snate investigating committee that Owsley paid $20,000 in
new hundred-dollar bills for five hundred grams of lysergic acid bought
from Cyclo Chemical Corporation. Owsley's production was estimated at ten
million tablets. These purchases were then legal, and lysergic acid did not
become hallucinogenic until blended with the diethalymide radical. By
thirty-one Owsley was a millionaire.
------------------------------
Owsley was a part of this group of Kesey and the Merry Pranksters and he
made millions of dollars selling his acid, and he made just the best acid
anybody's ever had. And so his reputation has grown since the days that LSD
was legal. He's a legend, but he's a real person, and he had a really good
reputation among the early acid heads.
Everybody related to LSD at all is acquainted with this aspect of Owsley,
that he became a millionaire by synthesizing LSD and selling his product
before it became illegal.
The Merry Pranksters played a big part in the early acid tests held in
San Francisco when LSD was still legal and which turned San Francisco on to
acid.
Owsley - before he was busted in Orinda there were rumors he was in the
City [San Francisco], on the East Coast, up in the mountains, but wherever
he was, he was sitting up there making good acid and it's gonna get to us.
The only way that anyone can sell acid is to say that it's Owsley's.
Owsley was at Golden Gate Park one day giving away acid. Thousands of
caps. Well, the cops found out and went to bust him but when they found him
all the acid was gone. Somebody said he dropped about ten caps he had left
when he saw the cops coming. (A superhuman feat.) I heard he's taken so much
that that's a normal trip for him. (LSD does not build a physical tolerance,
however.)
The police wanted to question him but he put them down so bad they just let
him go.
I heard Owsley and a friend were cooking some acid. They had all the
ingredients going and were waiting for it to finish. The cops learned about
it and came over to bust him.
It turns out that they came too soon and the acid wasn't formed yet. They
couldn't bust him.
You mean Stanley Augustus Owsley III? He's a millionaire's son and also a
millionaire himself. He made it on LSD 25. He just got out of jail. He bought
the lysergic acid from the army four to six years ago. He purchased four
55-gallon drums full of lysergic acid.
Up until recently acid was legal - then it was made illegal and everyone
started using it. But just before it was made illegal, Owsley, a chemist,
built a lab and made acid. During this time he made up to ten million caps,
which means, at a low estimate, he could have made up to ten million dollars making acid legally.
He lives in the Berkeley hills and is a millionaire hippie.
As everyone knows, the best acid made in this country is made by Augustus
Stanley Owsley III. To my knowledge he started producing around 1964, in
great quantities. His stuff was so good, and there was so much of it around,
that for a while acid was called "Owlsley Acid". Almost makes you think of
Kleenex. His first stuff was in small transparent capsules, and the stuff was
in purple powder.
Nowadays, when somebody says, "I dropped some real good acid the other
night," the obvious question is, "Wow man, was it Owlsley?"
I heard that Owsley gave something like $20,000 to the "Grateful Dead"
[the first psychedelic rock band] to go out and buy some equipment.
On one Saturday afternoon when they were having those things on Mount
Tamalpais - like mass meetings on the mountain - Owsley flew in in a
helicopter. He got out and just distributed like Jesus, and then pulled
out - a real classic type of thing.
A friend of mine was there and he got some of the acid.
[TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS]
DRUGLORE LATRINALIA
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Christ was a hippie.
Give me librium or give me meth.
People who live in grass houses must get stoned.
A friend with weed is a friend indeed.
Where there's dope there's hope, take tea and see.
DRUGLORE JOKES
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
What did one marijuana plant say to the other?
Let's get out of this joint.
What is better than LSD?
SEX, if you have the right pusher.
There were two hippies in a room and they were smoking pot and taking LSD.
And one hippie turned to the other and said, "Hey man, go turn on the radio."
So the hippie got up, walked over to the radio, and facing it he said,
"I love you."
There's this one guy who's really high, loaded, a knocked-out cat. Then this
old lady walks up to him and says, "Do the cross-town buses run all night
long?"
And he says, "Doo da, do daa."
Two stoned hippies were crawling along the railroad tracks. One looked back
at the other and said, "This sure is a long ladder."
The other said, "Yeah, but the handrail is out of sight."
A hippie was driving the wrong way down a one-way street, and a policeman
pulled him over and said, "Look-it buddy, didn't you see the arrows?"
"No man, I didn't even see the Indians."
A sign in a cannibal restaurant read:
MISSIONARY DINNER.......... $3.00
OIL MAN DINNER............. $3.00
HIPPIE DINNER.............. $6.00
Reading this menu, a prospective client asked why the hippie dinner cost
twice as much as the other two selections. The restaurant owner replied,
"Have YOU ever tried to clean a hippie?"
[TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS]
THE HIPPIE AND THE SHOPKEEPER
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
One late afternoon, this hippie walked into a grocery store and said,
"I'd like to buy some dog food."
The storeowner looked at him and asked him, "You got a dog?" The hippie
replied, "Yes." He said, "Well, prove it to me."
So the hippie goes out the door, half an hour later comes back, shows the
owner the dog, the owner sells him the dog food, and the hippie goes about
his way.
About half an hour later the same hippie came in, said, "I'd like to buy
some birdseed." The storeowner looked at him, said, "Do you have a bird?"
They hippie replied, "Yes." Storeowner said, "Prove it to me."
So he goes out, comes back half an hour later, has this bird in a bird
cage, says, "Here." So the storeowner sold him the birdseed and he walks on.
About half an hour later he comes in with a shoebox under his arm, with
a hole cut in the top. Storeowner looks at him and says, "what do you want?"
He said, "Stick your hand in this box." Storeowner stuck his hand in the box,
and was feeling around and said, "What's in here?" The hippie replied,
"What does it feel like to you?"
Said, "Feels like SHIT."
Said, "That's right. I want a roll of toilet paper."
[TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS]
DRUG GAMES
Game to play while fucked up
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
"COAT-HANGER CHIME" [Oooh sounds like Toxic Shock! COATHANGER!]
You take a wire coat hanger and untwist it, shaping it into a large curve.
Tie a length of thread on both ends of the hanger. The person who you are
going to have receive all the groovy sensations hangs the contraption on his
head, thread side up, hanger hanging down in front. The person then sticks
the thread in his ears with his fingers. Now you are ready to play the chime.
Another person stands in from of the personwho is wearing the chime, and
proceeds to tap the metal sharply with metal, plastic, and wood objects. The
sound waves travel through the metal to the thread and directly into the ears.
"ZILCH"
Zilch is the name of the game. It is played by taking a long piece of
cellophane, generally the type that clothes are returned in from the cleaners
[i.e. plastic bags], and rolled up so that it is a long jelly roll. It is
helpful to tie knots in it to keep it from unraveling. At the top a piece
of scotch tape will affix it to the ceiling and allow it to hang. On the
floor beneath it is placed tin foil or aluminum foil. Then the bottom of
the cellophane is set aflame, the lights in the room are turned out and
everyone watches it burn. It burns in an upward direction, slowly at
first and more rapidly later, and flaming bits of cellophane drop to the
covered floor at increasing speeds. It is quite beautiful to watch and the
viewers are generally, but not necessarily, stoned on marijuana. Afterwards,
the viewers share their thoughts on what they saw. Often the viewers realize
that their thoughts were phallic and that the burning cellophane was a
phallic symbol. --It is called "Zilch" because of the sound made by the
dripping.
[TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS]
DRAFT DODGERS
=-=-=-=-=-=-=
One elaborate strategem has the offender walking around the camp bent over
picking up scraps of paper muttering all the time, "That's not it." He
continues this on duty and off. Called in by the C.O. he shambles into his
office and starts shuffling through the papers on his desk, again mutters as
he picks up each paper, "That's not it".
The C.O. puts him in the hospital for observation, and the soldier continues
his performance. At length the hospital psychiatrist decides that he must be
"off the murky end" and fills out a section eight [insanity] discharge. Called
in by the psychiatrist, he starts going through all the papers on the psychia-
trist's desk again muttering "That's not it" until he comes to his section
eight discharge. He grabs it and shouts, "That's it!"
In another form of this story, the soldier rides an imaginary motorcycle
all around the army camp until committed for psychiatric observation in an
army hospital, and finally given a section eight discharge. He then mounts
his phantom motorcycle, rides it to the hospital entrance, parks it by the
gate, and starts to walk away. "Hey, don't you want your motorcycle?" an
orderly yells after him. "No thanks, I don't need it anymore," replies the
ex-GI.
Here is another story about someone who beat the draft. They went down
there and they were going to feign having tuberculosis, and what they did
was, they put some iodine on the back of a cigarette and they smoked it.
And what happens is these pieces of iodine got in their lungs. When they
appeared on the X-ray wich they gave to test for tuberculosis, it looked as
if they had spots on their lungs.
And they got out for faking tuberculosis.
-------------
One series of stories deals with the draftee hiding objects up his anal
orifice:
Oh, there was this guy who stuck a rat up his ass. Then when they were
looking for hemorrhoids they saw this long tail hanging out. So they said,
"What's that?" The guy said, "That's my pet rat."
"Well take it out!"
"No, it's MY pet rat."
There was a guy who was so desperate to beat the draft that he inserted
an egg into his ass. When he was subsequently called into the proctologist
during the course of the inspection, the proctologist inspected his rectum
and this egg fell out on the floor. And in front of everybody the egg cracked
open and inside was a tiny paper American flag.
At which point this guy started to sing "The Star Spangled Banner" and he
was promptly given a 4-F.
This is the best story I ever heard of getting out of the draft. This guy
shoved crunchy peanut butter up his ass before going to his physical. When
the time came to have asses examined, he pulled his pants down, and just as the
captain was approaching him reached back and got some peanut butter from his
ass and ate it.
It grossed the captain out so badly, he just let him out.
------------
I heard this story about this guy who went down to the draft board, and
when he went down there he didn't say anything. He said absolutely nothing
all the time. And the only thing he did was, when they gave him the forms
to fill out he just pissed all over them.
And anything they ever gave him he just pissed all over and they eventually
threw him out.
Another guy went down to the center. There was a guy there with long hair
halfway down his back. He said he wanted to see a psychiatrist. They told him
to wait, and after about twenty minutes the psychiatrist came in.
The guy said, "Can I go to the bathroom now?" The psychiatrist said,
"Sure go ahead." So the guy pissed all over the floor. The psychiatrist
yelled at him to get out. He got 4-F.
This guy was called in for his physical, and he told them he was a
homosexual. And when he went to see the psychiatrist he convinced him, or
thought he convinced him, that he was a homosexual by telling him stories
about the experiences he [the inductee] had supposedly had. But actually he
hadn't had any.
So the psychiatrist said, "Okay, I believe you, we won't be bothering you
any more." Then the psychiatrist started coming on to him pretty strong,
saying things like "Why don't you come to my house for dinner tonight?"
And the guy said, "No, I would rather not." And the psychiatrist said, "I can
show you a good time."
But the guy said "No" and finally he just left.
-------------
In its most elaborate form, the draft-dodging freakout involves a whole
cast of characters and a procession:
I heard about this guy who had to go down for his physical one morning. So
what he did is he came to Ludwig's Foundation on the Cal Campus at six in the
morning dressed as Jesus Christ. And he had on these long flowing robes and
he had a full-faced beard and the whole bit. And he started just sorta
preaching at all the people as they walked by telling them to follow him down
to his draft board as his disciplesso he could go down and just prove how
freaked out he was. And he gathered a very large crowd until about nine in the
morning he had fifty followers.
At which time they proceeded to go down to the draft board, and he said,
"I am Christ." And he looked like Christ, you know, and he convinced them
that he had all these followers who were his disciples.
And he convinced then that he was so freaked out they gave him a 1-Y.
[TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS]
(c)May 1990 Toxic Shock. By Gross Genitalia.
Stories as taken from "America in Legend" by Richard M. Dorson.
Remember, Fetus Almighty is seeking new Followers. Apply at Centre of Eternity.