stashHere’s the beginning of a classic Craigslist Asheville post. Click over to read the whole thing:

Found your stash (Montreat)
Found your stash by the baseball field in Montreat. Smoked it – thanks.

But really, you need to learn to hide it better. I mean, it was just sitting there, very slightly behind a tree, right next to the baseball field. I was walking my kid to the religious day camp Montreat offers every summer, and there it was, in all its glory. Chillin’.

The bowl was gorgeous. Had to be worth at least $60, am I right? I gave it to my sister. She smokes way more than I do and she really appreciated it.

Nice container BTW. Kept it really fresh.

But isn’t it a little hypocritical to be smoking at Montreat? Isn’t Montreat a quaint little Scottish Presbyterian religious mountain retreat? I mean, I didn’t think Presbyterians were really down with that shit. I thought they were more preoccupied with predestination and the like.

Then again, maybe that’s how you deal with being a Presbyterian. I’m sure it’s hard – predestination is really depressing.

Thanks to loyal reader Mike for pointing me to this.

Image link for weed stash.

3 Comments

  1. Asheville Artist says:

    A new Mountain Xpress article is a good rejoinder to all those local artists who were griping on Craig’s List recently: http://www.mountainx.com/article/49192/State-of-the-Arts

  2. ^^ Classic Asheville non sequitur.

  3. Here are the lyrics to a song I wrote called “The Bellyache Heard ‘Round the World” on my cd Subtotal Eclipse:

    He showed up for Spring Training
    With 40 pounds to lose
    He’d spent the winter partying
    But that was never news
    He wasn’t feeling all that good
    Throughout the training camp
    The Babe would run a fever
    And he often had the cramps

    After leaving Florida
    On the way back to New York
    The Yankees played the Brooklyn Robins
    On an exhibition tour
    They stopped in Chattanooga
    The Babe hit 2 home runs
    The next game was in Knoxville
    Where he hit another one

    The train left the next morning
    For Asheville, North Carolina
    Going across the mountains
    The tracks twisting and winding
    The Babe joined in a card game
    His cheeks and forehead burned
    He really didn’t look so good
    His teammates were concerned

    At the Asheville station
    When the train came to a stop
    The Babe stepped onto the platform
    Then suddenly he just dropped
    They took him to the hotel
    And put him into bed
    A newspaper in London proclaimed
    “The Mighty Babe is Dead!”

    **“The Mighty Babe is Dead!”
    “The Mighty Babe is Dead!”
    And before you even knew it
    That’s what all the papers said

    The team phoned a physician
    Who could really only guess
    It was his professional opinion
    That the Babe just needed rest
    He cautioned against travel
    Anytime too soon
    The Babe departed Asheville
    On the following afternoon

    Thousands filled Penn Station
    To try to catch a glimpse
    As they carried him by stretcher
    To the waiting ambulance
    “Helen, I feel rotten,”
    The Babe said to his wife
    Before they took him to the hospital
    And he went under the knife

    **chorus

    The Yankees tried to manage
    All the rumors that would spread
    He ate too many hot dogs
    Supposedly they said
    Some thought it was exhaustion
    Some thought it was the flu
    Some thought it could be syphillus
    But no one really knew

    The Babe he would recover
    And hit lots more home runs
    More than any other
    By the time his playing days were done
    It’s said he loved his women
    And he often stayed out late
    And that he liked the taste of liquor
    And he did not watch his weight

    **chorus

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