Wednesday, July 12, 2006

But Dude, I’ve Got A Note From My Doctor!

It seems that there is an uproar at San Francisco’s Fisherman’s Wharf. There’s a medical marijuana dispensary going in and some of the other businesses don’t like it. It sounds like a classy joint – the place that is, not the product. It’s going to have black walls, cool lights, jazz music and 55 varieties of dope...uhmm...grass...aahh...weed, I mean medicine, displayed in a glass case displayed under green neon lights.

That sounds like a pretty cool place but I did have a few questions:

Do they grow their own or do they buy the 55 varieties?

Where do they buy it?

Can they import from Alaska and Hawaii?

I hear that some of the weed is confiscated from drug busts. Can they verify the authenticity?

If smoking is allowed on the premises, can you BYOB (bring your own bong)?

Will a note from Debbie Frisch work?

Is she a customer?

Does this explain why the Golden State Warriors stink?

Does Gray Davis work here?

Can we get Howard Dean an appointment to mellow him out?

Is there anyone at all in San Francisco with any morals?

I didn’t think so.

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1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

A note from the doctor doesn't cut it, dude. California law requires the doctor to fill out a specific form which results in the issuing of a patient identification card. Licensing as a provider or producer is more complex to obtain, and possesion of more than that license allows erases any criminal exemption.

Given the universally acknowledged fact that marijuana stimulates the appetite (ever heard of the munchies, dude?) denying it to people dying from loss of appetite (AIDS wasting syndromme) is clearly immoral. The DEA's policy of suppressing medical research showing, for example, that THC shrinks brain tumors, is downright evil.

5:23 PM  

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