[zamalito]

Muddy, humito loves your posts. There's been 2-3 times in the last few weeks where you've posted the exact same thing he would've.

If I wanted to ever buy some mexican pot what state is the best to get a good deal?

[zamalito]

What state in the us or in mexico?

[sqwirl]

New Mexico is right by Mexico, and I always hear about huge semi busts happining somewhere there. More probably gets through than that gets busted.

Not sure why you would mess with that stuff anyways though.

[muddy waters]

i am very happy to channel humito. maybe if i keep this up his seed collection will magically appear in my refrigerator? just call me muddito

randude the best deal would be found wherever you could buy in pesos rather than dollars. you could have a killer pot field trip just bus bumming it along the pacific coast say from mazatlan to puerto escondido over about two weeks. if you're friendly and speak some spanish you're bound to find a lot of killer herb along the route. i found some authentic oaxacan loose resinous stuff in the capital city, at a gringo hostel, far from the coast and the mountains where it's grown. on the coast it's available at most bars if you ask properly, but careful to avoid scammers.

[ginogreeng]

have you ever heard of this trick take some brick put it in the micro sprinkle water on it and it fluffs back up? a bud gets mexi for about $300lb in middle usa I wish i could post some pic of the buds they are huge lackin trichs but a beautiful smell like the kindest.

muddy i found 2 out of the qp so far

thanks all for the response

ggg

just call me muddito

lol, ok muddi

bests, hhf

One of the best experiences I;ve ever had from smoking weed was from really bad looking super compressed brown/very dark green mexican brick I bought in Cancun, 2005, it blew my head off, definitely a sativa, very paranoid, heart pounding, tripping, I was having strong auditory hallucinations, got so damn paranopid. Ended up locking myself in my hotel room as there had been a small alligator at the end of the hotel garden where it met the lagoon, I swear to god I was shit feared that thing was gonna be trying to get in my patio door during the night. When I regained my composure (after giggling at myself for being so silly for a while) I wandered back into the hotel bar, met some Canadian ladies who immediately knew I was high as hell, they were from BC so were hardened smokers and i got them hgh as hell too, best sativa I've had in as long as I can remember, the Zamal x Haze I grew was as psychedelic but in a different way and didn't have the heart-pounding speeding effect, I saved the seeds I found in that brick and brought them home. Tried germing about 30 and no dice, I still have about another 30. They had a middle-aged Mexican dude playing total lounge versions of classic tunes on a keyboard and he suddenly started playing CCR and I remember dancing round the bar with a Canuck girl on either arm singing 'Left a good job in the city... working for the man every night and day...'

I woke up in the morning with an empty Tequila bottle and an 8 ball from a pool table in my bed, found one canuck girl asleep in my bathroom and the other one asleep on my patio on the tiles, the patio door wide open. That gave me a wry smile remembering the alligator, I suppose it could have chomped on her then wandered inside and made short work of me too.

Muddy is right about if you are friendly and get off the beaten track you can find some top notch stuff in Mexico. I took a few buses out of Cansun (I was there 19 days and after the first 10 was sick of clubbing every night and trying to down my own bodyweight in Long Island Iced Teas). One day I went all the way down to the Honduran border, I swear to god everyone was trying to sell me cocaine, and it was damn good stuff, looked to be very lightly cut as it was flaky like dandruff and although it;s not my thing, I did weaken and buy a gram from a nice old guy. I was walking down the main street of some sleepy town on the cost about 125km down the coast from Cancun and had a bottle of diet coke in my hand, being a big guy with a beard and a Panama hat a lot of Mexicans teased my by calling me Hemingway. Anyway, this old guy was stood outside hiw silver shop and said 'hey senor, you like coke?' pointing to my bottle, 'Sure i replied' He grinned really wide and said 'I got good coke but it's not diet!' and beckoned me to follow him into his shop. An old lady, probably his wife was sat behind the till at a small counter and behind her was a doorway into another room. He led me in to the back room and there was more silver goods all over the walls of this room and another till on a table, he opened the till and sat iin the drawe was a ziplok with a few ounces of this lovely flaky coke. He produced a bag of white plastic spoons, selected a new one and dug it into the coke then held it up under my nose, so not wishing to be rude I inhaled. He wanted to sell me a hundred bucks worth and shovelled what looked to be about 5 grams onto a large pair of jeweller's silver scales, I explained I wanted only a gram and he happily sold me a g for 20 bucks. I never saw a single cop in that town and I remember by the time I had walked 100 yards down the road was very very high, i plonked myself down at a roadside cafe table and bought a huge ice cream sundae then decided to go in search of some ganja, having smoked all the brick I bought in Cancun.

Ended up having a surf n turf in a restaurant called the Blue Lobster and drinking half a dozen cervezas then deciding to find a hotel for the night. Found a lovely little family run place with a dozen rooms and paid 25 bucks for a room with a beach view.

Next day decided to have a sniff to start the day and soon regretted it, was far too high and sketchy, went i nto la pharmacia to buy some suntan cream and ended up buying a box of valium, or some mexican equivalent, a couple of those levelled me out nicely. Got another bus down to almost the Honduran border and everyone in that town had bags of coke with plastic spoons profferring samples, but I had no interest. Too many state and federal police there for my coked up paranoia so got a bus back north and inland a ways, no idea where, it was like being in a movi, watching the world go by out of the bus window then being deposited in some small prvincial town with a burro drinking from the fountain in the town square and an elderly senora soaking her tired feet in the fountain too. It was still afternoon and baking hot, the locals slumbering in the sahde wth hats slanted forward over their faces. I wandered into a bar, had a couple of cervezas muy frigo, amused the bartender and the handful of locals in the bar by reciting faithfully from my Spanish phrasebook. Eventually they understood that I wanted to know where the local market was and a young guy led me to his shop and nicely asked me to have a look round and see if I wanted to buy anything. Prices were a quarter of what they had been in Canun for the same trinkets and souveneirs, I bought a really nice black ashtray made of some kind of stone with silver veins running through it and a pumas head carving and gave him a nice propina then he pointed me in the direction of the market which turned out to be a dozen stalls on a dusty side road, the first stall was manned by a yound guy and an old lady, the young guy immediately greeted me with the usual patter asking me if I wanted to buy Cuban cigars, slver, yada, yada, yada, I noticed he had a nice selection of pipes on a table and I picked out a nice soapstone spoon type pipe. Hey hey, the young guy clicked onto this gringo wasn't your respectable American tourist but the much rarer (in Mexico at least) lesser spotted British psychopath with a craving for exotic substances (apparently in Mexico, the Brits are seen as being less wealthy than the Americans, or less willing to part with their dinero at least, but very keen to sample the local substances). His eyes had lit up and he said 'ah, you wanna smoke!' 'maybe I replied, whatcha got?'. Now I was expecting the usual nod to some other guy closeby to keep an eye out before leading me off to some back room, but he simply fired off some Spaish to the old lady and she reached under the table next to her and produced a plastic carrier bag, in this bag were loads of rolled up pieces of newspaper, she began to open some of them to inspect the contents and laid a half dozen out on the table, I examined and each one contained a different sixed pile of ganja, not bricked, different shades, some dark, others lime green almost, all definitely locally grown as it was just lumps of colas (unmanicured of course) wrapped in paper, I selected three pieces of paper, each with a different shade of ganja and paid the princely sum of 50 bucks for what must have been about 5 ounces. Nowhere, and I mean nowhere in that town sold rolling papers, so I bought a couple of packs of Mexican filterless cigarettes and emptied a few to refill the tubes with ganja, I vividly remember a hobo very politely asking for a cigarette 'fumar senor?' and his eyes nearly dropping out of his head when I gave him a whole pack of 20 and a bic lighter, he began to amble away grinning happily, and I called after him, gave him half the sliced watermelon I'd just bought and a handful of ganja, he was ecstatic. I saw him happily munching on it a while later. I found a nice spot under a tree and merrily puffed away on 3 joints, one of each type of ganja then ate my watermelon. The ganja was all pretty much the same in taste, reminded me of cream soda and vanilla ice cream, the smoke just seemed to absorb into your lungs, very few wisps appeared on exhalation. Sat and watched some kids playing football despite the baking heat, drinking beers kept in steady supply by a small kid who thought xmas had come early as I paid him in dollar bills and insisted on paying a buck a bottle for beer that probably cost 50 cents if I could be bothered to get off my fat gringo ass and walk the 40 yards to the bar and buy it myself.

Eventually I decided I better get on a bus back north to a larger town before nightfall. Wandered back to the square and noticed a poster advertising lucha libre, I recognised a few of the names (I'm a big lucha fan) and managed to find someone who spoke english and managed to find out that the lucha was tonight in some bigger town to the north so I hungaround waiting for the bus with a load of Mexicans sporting lucha masks and there was even a guy with a trumpet who kept playing little tunes that started everyone of singing, I ended up crammed on the 80 capacity bus with about 150 people, and watched half a dozen lucha bouts in a tiny concrete bullring with the most broken-down ring you've ever seen, but fuerza guerrera, los hermanos dinamita and perro aguayo were on the card, I had a ringside spot (I gave the actual seat to some old guy to sit on) and spent 3 hours shouting 'rudo, rudo rudo'.

So here I was, ten oclock at night in some unknown town (Santa something) outside a bullring watching all the Mexicans pile into pickup trucks and drive away into the night and I'm thinking 'what the fuck do I do now?' spent ages trying to decide whether it was safer to find a hotel here or get a taxi to Cancun or somewhere further north on the coast that had tourists and tourist hotels, found a bar, had a coupla beers while deciding and eventually found a taxi driver willing to take me wherever I wanted, including his sister's house, he reckoned I would enjoy his sister very much, but I declined and endured a white-knuckle ride along the road to the coastal highway, then did my best to stay awake as we blasted all the way to Playa Del Carmen (about 25km south of Cancun) at 100 mph in a Toyota, paid him the promised 50 bucks and staggered into the first hotel I saw, to discover the lobby bar was full of folks from Louisiana who spoke with an accent so strange I could barely understand them, paid for a room, dumped my stuff and sat on the beach till 4am with these good ole boys smoking my nice Mexican ganja and talking about creole cooking and Dr John songs.

For the last 5 days of my holiday I decided to hire a car and went inland to Valladolid and various touristy places like Chichen Itza and Merida looking at ruins and trying to smoke all the remaining ganja, never found many seeds and what there were were tiny white and immature, methinks the farmer pulled his males (albeit a little late).

[Dank-j]

British Hempire, freaking awesome post, I felt like I was back in mexico reading that.

[Elevator Man]

BH - Brilliant man, I thoroughly enjoyed reading that...