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Dj Hashish - Draw the line (Original Mix) Author: nejixx Keywords: Dj Hashish Draw the line Niklas Harding Remix trance tiesto house state of arround world ferry armin Added: May 23, 2008

-- It had not occurred to me to be loved. Now I dream of some strange incendiary device. An IED. The danger to this place had to do with it becoming so much more fundamentally religious than when I knew it. I was a stranger now. Again. He "had someone" he used to write "back home" to. Why is he telling me this. Erase that. I don't want to know. I say nothing. I should say something stupid but comforting like: that's nice. But I am not a comforting kind of guy. I'm just a mean old son-of-a-bitch. Bitch. And I was trying to write. I am never at my best when someone is watching me trying to write. The problem with trying to write with anyone in the room you are writing in curious enough to keep glancing -- repeatedly -- at what you are writing on (laptop) is that at some point they are going to make the assumption that you are writing about them -- you can feel it in the way their eyes are beginning to accuse you -- and in my case they'd just about always be right. "Are you writing about us." At this point, there were three of us. Whores and wars come to distant shores. "I am." "I thought this was all supposed to be off the record, Tim. Like secret." "Not to worry. No one will believe a word of it." I continue writing. He pauses but not for long. He seems annoyed. I have that effect on people. "If you're telling them about us why won't people think it's real." "I could google myself for you. Or you could call Poets and Writers magazine; they'd give me a character reference. It used to jerk me off that everything I wrote was seen as outrageous. Oh, he's a bad bad evil man and look at what he's doing now. I have arrived at this place where I don't expect normal people, whatever that means, to understand my life, or to comprehend that it's just different from what they know; it's never been normal and probably never will be. I just accept that now. It's my life. It does not belong to them. I live inside it in my skin. The fact that normal people, moral people with rules who do not smoke hashish, cannot even recognize the kind of life I live as a life at all, isn't my fucking problem. I could use your real names which I'm not and no one on the planet would believe it which is fine with me because it simply adds another layer to my life of disguise and I rather like disguise and I am not about to apologize for that now. At this late date you might say." "So. You've written before." "I am extremely obscure. Except to the people who know me. The only people who know of me are the people who know of me and they all hate my guts. This is outside of the people who actually know me and the people who actually know me try but usually fail to understand the disconnect between the person they know who lives this life I have and the idiot who writes about it. Trust me. I could take your photograph and I have and no one on planet earth will think you are real. It might be the way to go. If it's anonymity you want, I'll write about you, and no one will think you're real. " He didn't get it. "Get in line." "What line." "The one that goes around the block." "I thought at first maybe you were writing to someone." "I never write to people. I hate people. Unless they want to give me money. For my real work. Don't ask." "He wants me to come back home." I ignore the designation -- he. I ignore the word -- home. I ignore the words -- wants me. I look at this kid. As dispassionately as I can which can be rather cool. "Those days are over for you." "What, my days of writing letters back home." "That and your days of going back home. You don't have a home to go back to. Welcome to the Socco Chico. Everyone here has some long-lost, left-behind lover they can no longer write to. The Socco Chico just sucks you up. Stop worrying. In a few minutes we'll all have hashish and the universe will be set right again." He had yet to absorb the enormity of any of it yet. Desertion. Dereliction of duty. Treason. Absorbing the enormity of it would happen. At the moment, a healthy case of denial was keeping him alive. I have nothing against denial. Being that I live there on a permanent basis. People only think Paris is home. Paris is where I work. Denial is where I have built this big fucking house and I never come out. I had learned a few things about the War in Iraq. A few more things about denial was in there somewhere. "This is your new home," I said. "You will need to learn to speak French." "Why French," he asked. "Your Arabic will suck and your Berber would be worse. No one would believe you are either one. But French is pretty ubiquitous here in Mexico." "This isn't Mexico." "That's what you think." Denial would get him nothing. "What's ubiquitous." I had to stop writing to tend to him. "Ubiquitous means snap out of this. You're going to have to learn a lot and quickly." "But you're going back to Paris." "But I'm going back to Paris." "But we'll be alone." "You'll manage." He was not at all sure. "I feel like I've been living in hell." "You have been living in hell. This is not hell. This is the Socco Chico. I rather doubt you will be able to leave here for a very long time. Make friends." "Why." "Because you've broken a few rules. Their rules. And they'll be looking for you if they don't assume you weren't just kidnapped and murdered which is probably exactly what they'll think. That is, if you're lucky. This is the Socco Chico. Everyone here is hiding from something. You are not unique. I can't take you back to Paris because they will bust you in under five minutes in Paris. In the Socco Chico, no one gives a flying fuck. That is why it is the Socco Chico. "I still feel like I'm back in hell." "It will take you a few days to adjust. But you will adjust. This is a long way from hell." Hell is real. It's called Iraq. Hell is just a place you live and a few of us would write about it. And then there was Dante. Who understood that we make our own hell. Or not. And who knew this: the only city on the planet worth living in is not the Socco Chico unless you're an outlaw in hiding. The only city on the planet worth living in would be Florence. Dante loved Florence. I love Florence. Explaining to this boy that I would be going to Florence for a time before taking off for Paris would be like explaining to Dante in Italian that he must not write this poetry he writes because it's trouble. You almost have to live there -- Florence -- to get it. There are a few (very few) tourists who arrive in Florence and manage to receive small glimpses of that flash. But they are only glimpses. The explosive light spills its invective quickly then fades down the alleyway twisting like a new white hope against a morning sky. I would love you, too, but I don't love anyone. I am far too involved running barefoot through the leaves. I have the moon, the desert, a million years of time running backwards and forwards, your dark eyes again, and you, boy. An army deserter's anxiety. Absent Without Leave. You should have anxiety. It's appropriate. You who turned the coffee cups upside down. You and the dogs I run with. In Florence, it's mainly the tourists who are herded around like cows. To really fathom Florence you have to leave the herd. Typically, this is unnerving for the American tourist. I'm with the people of Florence: take their money and then put them back on the bus. I love the Socco Chico but I can't live here. Been there. Done that. The drugs in the Socco Chico would do me in. The longest I can take living here is about a week. Then the heroin gremlins come to my derelict hotel room and force me to bend my spoons. A week is pushing it right to another edge. Two days is safe. But by the third day, I'm wondering what might be stronger than this hash I smoke. Not much. I tell him nothing of this. He thinks I have everything under control. Why anyone would think this is nothing less than breathtaking to me. The notion of it is patently absurd. I suspect his lover would trick him out. They might have to get good and hungry to do it but they would do it. My thing with hustling is the contention that everyone is one. Do I look like just another tourist to you. No. If you separate yourself from the tourist herd -- anywhere in Florence -- you will note all the statues of Dante. They're everywhere. Heaven or hell. Take your pick. My favorite is the one in Piazza de Santa Croce. Dante wears his severe face. The one Boticelli painted. The poet who wrote THE DIVINE COMEDY looks formidable.

Author: contactsik Added: Tue, 20 May 2008 21:46:22 -0800 Duration: 259 This video clip shows how to produce Hashish, a powerful substance derived from cannabis sativa. ONLY FOR CANADIANS!!! where it's legal =)

Author: contactsik Added: Tue, 20 May 2008 21:46:22 -0800 Duration: 259 This video clip shows how to produce Hashish, a powerful substance derived from cannabis sativa. ONLY FOR CANADIANS!!! where it's legal =)

Author: contactsik Added: Tue, 20 May 2008 21:46:22 -0800 Duration: 259 This video clip shows how to produce Hashish, a powerful substance derived from cannabis sativa. ONLY FOR CANADIANS!!! where it's legal =)

anche i LEGO trovano il loro passatempo ...dato che ormai nn ci gioca + nessuno !!! Author: obrady777 Keywords: cosenza canne hashish andreotta calabria italia ronaldinho gollum calcio goal football champions inter scudetto finale Added: May 13, 2008

Ancora loro...con tutta la loro grinta!!!!!!! Author: 1985nikko Keywords: green mary raffy tommy danilo sergio music punk rock erba weed hashish canna canne cazzo fregna lesbian lesbiche sabaudi Added: May 6, 2008

Le Voleur Nu An Open Letter and a Poem for Jean Genet: The Naked Thief by Tim Barrus screwing myself into any video is more meaningful to me than written poetry on a page/ because the poets and the editors would punish me/ too/ with the belt of arrogance/ it was the belt that lead me to genet/ you/ dead painter of asylums/ jailed lady of the flowers/ incarcerated adolescent boy/ the thief of loaves of bread/ no lady/ there/ no tea where the writer arrives to speak/ his wisdoms/ i had to fight back/ you taught me that/ you with your vice of knives/ me with performance art/ i treated it like performance art/ it was that anyway/ you will never be published/ bitch/ is what they -- the authorities of the my prison -- said/ you do not merit our attention/ until i did/ so let's put that little fantasy to rest/ screwing myself into any poetic vision found in video is a better thievery of another kind/ it is my journal/ of flowers/ i don't even like cock/ but show me a better rebellion/ a better revolution/ in lieu of chopping off heads/ the streets of paris soaked in blood/ i make a terrible faggot/ never having found a male who could even begin to make the emotional connection of a lover/ or a prisoner/ to materialism/ i am glad for other men who find it/ but in the recesses of my imprisoned soul i doubt/ oh/ great doubts/ it exists/ i have never seen it/ but what better way to symbolize the fact i don't share your values/ i don't share your dreams/ i don't share your politics/ i don't share your bed/ i am not like you/ straight folks and the suits being so accustomed to the generic opaqueness of their we're all the same here world/ no/ we're not/ what better way/ than to suggest/ the boys fuck your brains out/ all illusion is performance art/ i don't share your domesticity either/ just bury me next to genet/ i want to be buried in morocco/ in a grave/ high upon a bluff/ overlooking a barren sea/ i find myself/ sweating through/ un chant d'amour/ the guard enters the prisoner's cell/ he unzips/ but he doesn't go for his erection/ he removes his thick leather belt/ then he moves in on his victim/ his prisoner/ and that was exactly/ exactly/ my father/ too/ i was there/ naked on the bed/ waiting for the belt to beat the fucking shit out of me/ regardless of what the self-appointed literary critics with their morally outraged blogs have to say/ i will show you moral outrage/ and your little dog/ too/ i was there and a child/ albeit not an innocent one/ but one who knew intimately/ the murderous relationship/ between/ the morbid and the mystical/ the musical and the misbehaved/ genet's vice of knives squeezing the cum from violence and seduction/ even as a child i kept the guns he gave me/ lovingly gave me/ it was a house of guns/ guns/ guns/ his smells and male touch ingrained into the stocks/ the oils of him/ in my room fully loaded/ often sleeping with the guns/ and it wasn't until i was 17 that i turned those guns on myself/ every subsequent lover i have ever had has traced and touched my scars with their seductive fingers/ you wrote: his disguise relieves him of the necessity of going through all the rigamarole required in the public execution of any preconceived murder/ for me/ that would go double for all the various little murders of the self/ assuming dark continents where the sun sets and rises/ long voyages of mistakes/ questionable cargo/ the tough and the turbulent/ rough trade/ those strong and supple boys you wrote so much of/ obscure ports and anchored/ the brothels and the whores/ a piece of ass/ you the embellished among the filthy and despised/ i know, too/ about being despised/ i like it/ i court it/ i fan those flames/ i am/ after all/ beneath contempt/ and am not worthy of publication/ until/ i was/ an illusion/ when i am usually/ that/ sordid signs and grandeur/ literary paris hustler and some secret grace/ not much has changed/ perhaps nothing/ i find it difficult and strange to make art in america/ the disconnect is too much/ to overcum/ where art is just another marketplace/ of gatekeepers/ you had your prison cells/ and mine are in america/ what thief (not a nice person and doesn't get invites to barbecues) lives deep within us/ what recourse do we have but the luminosity of words/ or the shadows that they cast/ poverty is no excuse and one's heart contracts/ the moment of cuming clouds over/ in america it is a crime to be a vagrant/ austere/ or destitute/ by the gravity and the means of splendor/ i make more cash hustling than from poetry/ jerking off for men who will pay to watch/ they are not attracted to me/ but to my notoriety/ i am corruptible and it is tenderness that is the fragile stuff/ and gives away easily to the adventure of burning down the town/ if doctor guillotine had not invented the guillotine i would have/ line the publishers up/ oh/ woe is them/ my fingers ache from the knitting/ fuck them with knitting needles/ perforate their rectums/ then cut their heads off/ i could do it/ too/ sometimes it is necessary/ to insist on revolution/ the marketplace awards its prizes to the buyers and sellers of suffering/ i have proved my point/ one constructs one's ruin with one's irredeemable destruction of one's own work and i have roasted wieners over my smoking manuscripts/ like the charred dicks from hell/ i know from both your life and your death that one is suddenly alone/ if the marketplace is emblematic of our survival and not our work/ we are its faithful dogs/ it's not that we are convicts/ but that we are escaped convicts/ pesetas earned around pissoirs/ i do not think they would publish you today/ your triumph was not the rising above the criminality/ but was the criminality/ your triumph was not the rising above the dickensian starvation of the foster home or the redemption after prison and you did not find god/ finding the haunted and the burdens of the pimps and the sorrow of dead flowers and you retreated to the farthest edges of the world/ your characters are always making love/ getting fucked/ even the children and begging for money and scraps of food/ you were writing your own secret history and today it cannot be done/ it must conform/ one must rise above the scavenging because the marketplace loves pretense especially the pretense the rising from the gutter can be done/ today the poets want it nice (ginsburg was the last of them who got fucked) and butterflies and golfing putter lawns/ remorse is only manifest in solitude/ and tangiers was dry and sex in alleyways hot with hashish/ all movement is eventually arrested/ your focus was only central to the peripheral edges of your vision/ and mine/ to seek the experience of being alive/ in one's body/ you walk into it where i climb down/ you face it where i walk away/ you spit in its face where i reflect on disenchantment/ my bandages are poems and a revenge that rejects their ability to diminish/ me/ they are my various refusals to bleed for them/ your bandages were wishbones/ and those were what you sucked the marrow out of/ on your knees/ you did not wear bandages/

A vaguely old-European intellectual travels to an American university and writes his friend, describing his experiences and misfortunes.

Author: aishah27 Added: Thu, 20 Mar 2008 23:46:16 -0800 Duration: 116my girls and i having some shisha while talking stupid.

Author: aishah27 Added: Thu, 20 Mar 2008 23:46:16 -0800 Duration: 116my girls and i having some shisha while talking stupid.

Capoerira a Leidsplein Amsterdam Author: EBAEMA8 Keywords: Capoerira amsterdam ballerini strafatti canne hashish Added: March 18, 2008

The Tiki God (Who Demands Red light) and the Disco Ball setup from the Drug War Soldiers Movie Set. Song in the background is Carol of the Buds Radio Edit- available at Itunes. Visit us at www.myspace.com/CannabisChorus

Ragazzi fantastici con una voce incredibile,imperdibili!!!! Author: 1985nikko Keywords: green mary raffy tommy danilo sergio music punk rock erba weed hashish canna canne cazzo fregna lesbian lesbiche sparta Added: February 27, 2008

more @ http://Smukhed_p_8_sekunder.ds.endofinternet.org Author: Adelice21 Keywords: Beer Britney Spears Pot Hashish Daft Punk Yelle Incubus Hands Porno MSI Hot Sexy Korean Lesbian Education Smukhed på sekunder Added: February 12, 2008

Overteksten siger vidst det hele.. Lp'er og øl på flaske ftw!! Author: xincubusx Keywords: Beer Britney Spears Pot Hashish Daft Punk Yelle Incubus Hands Porno MSI Hot Sexy Korean Lesbian Education Added: February 9, 2008

Music Scored ByYouTube's

Chanson à texte ;-!!Auteur : Daniel IchbiahAuthor: danic_phonic Tags: ichbiah humour hachich hashish hachish beuh marijuana drôle satire drogue dope Posted: 24 January 2008 Rating: 5.0 Votes: 4

Chanson d'humour

Karim nous roule un splif en live

sur le plateau du tournage du film de larsen par booska-p L'ALBUM DE LARSEN DU SEUM BIEN VICERE DISPONIBLE PARTOUT LE 28 JANVIER 2008 EN ATTENDANT MULTIRECIDIVISTEAuthor: IDSASOULAKD Tags: larsen du seum bien vicere court metrage rap clip arme clash freestyle inedit interdit censure original RSR ginette booska-P nouveau new album 2008 underground street 93 police fight hashish Posted: 12 January 2008 Rating: 5.0 Votes: 1

bande annonce du making of du film du seum bien vicere L'ALBUM DE LARSEN DU SEUM BIEN VICERE DISPONIBLE PARTOUT LE 28 JANVIER EN ATTENDANT MULTIRECIDIVISTEAuthor: IDSASOULAKD Tags: larsen du seum bien vicere court metrage rap clip arme clash freestyle inedit interdit censure original RSR ginette booba rohff sinik lim nouveau album 2008 underground street 93 police fight hashish Posted: 12 January 2008 Rating: 5.0 Votes: 1

bande annonce du making of du film du seum bien vicere L'ALBUM DE LARSEN DU SEUM BIEN VICERE DISPONIBLE PARTOUT LE 28 JANVIER EN ATTENDANT MULTIRECIDIVISTEAuthor: IDSASOULAKD Tags: larsen du seum bien vicere court metrage rap clip arme clash freestyle inedit interdit censure original RSR ginette booba rohff sinik lim nouveau album 2008 underground street 93 police fight hashish Posted: 12 January 2008 Rating: 5.0 Votes: 1

From the Drug War Soldiers movie set, a disco ball, marijuana christmas lights, the tiki god (who demands red light), and all sorts of other cool lighting rigs a sixteen year old pot smoker in the early 1990's might use. Check out our other videos for 420 Cribs Black Light Hallway, which has its own video dedicated to its coolness. Please visit www.myspace.com/cannabischorus for the music, and drugwarsoldiers.com for our videos. Our CD is also available on itunes, ebay, and cdbaby. Thanks for watching and please subscribe if you support pot legalization! Ranked 3.26 / 5 | 204 views | No comments Click here to watch the video Submitted By: CapnCannabis Tags: marijuana black lights posters disco ball weed pot hashish ganja tiki god construction strobe lighte

Music Scored By YouTube's http://www.youtube.com/CLAYLAVL http://nationalhotline.org/drug-alcohol-rehab.htm Author: RIPFILMS Keywords: Cannabis marijuana hashish Signs symptoms Poor memory Increased blood pressure Red eyes Decreased coordination Difficult athletics business communications computer science economics engineering health humanities language math media medicine performing arts physical social visual Added: December 18, 2007

Author: pio17 Tags: torr...- spaccio hashish cazzate Posted: 06 December 2007 Rating: 0.0 Votes: 0

L' essenza di questo video è percepibile solamente in condizioni alterate. Buon viaggio! The essence of this video is perceptible only in altered condition. Enjoy the trip! Author: pccalcio Keywords: "peggio trip" botta viaggio viaggi erba hashish canna canne joint lp vinile occhiali vynil Added: November 17, 2007

Noi ad AMSTERDAM in camera d'albergo *** DA NOTARE LA FACCIA DE LOTTI *** Author: Cesar1988PRATO Keywords: AMSTERDAM fumo sarphati joint erba albergo hashish maryuana hash weed canne Added: November 11, 2007

From the beautiful uplands of Maui, Hawaii, comes the "Gumby Method" a truly amazing hashish extraction method that is simple and easy to learn. Enjoy, Aloha!!