Man Wearing ‘Seriously I Have Drugs’ Shirt Arrested on Drug Charges
Florida man, John Balmer, was arrested at a Kmart in Hudson, Florida, on Monday.
During his arrest, police noticed Balmer’s shirt, which read: “Who needs drugs” in all caps. Underneath that, it read: “No, Seriously, I have drugs”.
And seriously, he did, according to the Pasco County Sheriff’s Office. They then posted a photo of Balmer in the shirt on their Facebook page.
According to FOX 13 in Tampa Bay, Balmer tried handing a bag containing a “green leafy substance” to another Kmart customer once he saw police enter the store.
That super smart person decided not to take the suspicious object from a stranger.
Balmer then walked to the register, put the baggy on the ground, and paid for his items.
The deputy checked the bag and found marijuana and methamphetamine. The witness confirmed it was the bag Balmer tried to hand off, according to the report.
Balmer was arrested and booked on charges of possession of meth and marijuana.
Maybe he’ll get a new shirt, “Who needs jail” and under it “No seriously, I’m in jail.”
Read More: Man Wearing ‘Seriously I Have Drugs’ Shirt Arrested on Drug Charges | http://wgrd.com/man-wearing-seriously-i-have-drugs-shirt-arrested-on-drug-charges/?utm_source=taboola.com&utm_medium=referral&trackback=tsmclip
“San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair)” is a song, written by John Phillips of The Mamas & the Papas, and sung by Scott McKenzie. It was written and released in June 1967 to promote the Monterey Pop Festival
ERIC BURDON & THE ANIMALS-“SAN FRANCISCAN NIGHTS”
“San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair)” is a song, written by John Phillips of The Mamas & the Papas, and sung by Scott McKenzie. It was written and released in June 1967 to promote the Monterey Pop Festival.
dave and myself in San Francisco
Live guitar music still warbles from street corners, tie-dyed t-shirts are hawked by the handful, the smell of pot permanently wafts, colorful peace signs adorn windows of businesses like the Red Victorian Bed & Breakfast — institutions better suited to an earlier time.
(SCROLL DOWN FOR PHOTOS)
But said nostalgia is often overshadowed by the sad realities of a neighborhood that has long since evolved from the remnants of a revolution: the wayward teenagers, the tourist traps, the vagabonds, the $6 corporate ice cream cones sold at precisely San Francisco’s most famous intersection.
During its heyday, which culminated in 1967’s infamous Summer of Love, young dreamers converged in the Haight by the thousands. Historians deem the neighborhood the birthplace of the hippie movement, marked by peaceful protests and psychedelic experimentation. The era’s greatest luminaries, from Jerry Garcia to Allen Ginsberg to Jimi Hendrix, all lived nearby.
Then the movement waned, and the area began to decay along with it. “By the fall of 1967, Haight-Ashbury was nearly abandoned, trashed, and laden with drugs and homeless people,” blogger Jon Newman wrote in his essay Death of the Hippie Subculture. “With the Haight in ruins and most of its residents gone, it was simply unable to operate as a hub for music, poetry and art.”
Of course, the Haight still has a certain appeal. There’s no better jazz-and-pizza combo in the city than at Club Deluxe, Amoeba Music offers a truly epic collection, a parklet just popped up in front of Haight Street Market and the 12-piece band that assembles in front of American Apparel on Sunday mornings always move crowds to dance in the street.
Yet we can’t help but heave a sigh while pushing past gaggles of gawking tourists or stepping over the man sleeping on the sidewalk at noon. While a stroll down Haight Street today certainly evokes nostalgia, it also makes us yearn for a place that was once the epicenter of peace and love and youth in revolt, a place we never had the chance to experience ourselves but will be forever engrained in San Francisco’s complex, progressive history.
A History Of Hippies
This is a short documentary about the Haight Street kids living in San Francisco.
Got them trained to protect my shit!
Journeying across the North American landscape, The Culture High is the riveting story that tears into the very fiber of modern day marijuana prohibition to reveal the truth behind the arguments and motives governing both those who support and oppose the existing pot laws. With budgets to fight the war reaching billions and arrests for simple possession sky rocketing to nearly a million annually, the debate over marijuana’s legality has reached epic proportions. Utilizing the quirky yet profound nature of its predecessor, The Union: The Business Behind Getting High, The Culture High raises the stakes with some of todays biggest names, unprecedented access to footage previously unobtainable, and incredibly moving testimonials from both sides of the spectrum. Top celebrities, former undercover agents, university professors and a slew of unforgettable characters from all points of view come together for an amusing yet insightful portrait of cannabis prohibition and the grasp it has on society as a whole. The Culture High will strip search the oddity of human nature and dare to ask the question: What exactly is going on here?
Most readers know Hunter S. Thompson for his 1971 book Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas: A Savage Journey to the Heart of the American Dream. But in over 45 years of writing, this prolific observer of the American scene wrote voluminously, often hilariously, and usually with deceptively clear-eyed vitriol on sports, politics, media, and other viciously addictive pursuits. (“I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone,” he famously said, “but they’ve always worked for me.”) His distinctive style, often imitated but never replicated, all but forced the coining of the term “gonzo” journalism. But what could define it? One clue comes in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas itself, when Thompson reflects on his experience in the city, ostensibly as a reporter: “What was the story? Nobody had bothered to say. So we would have to drum it up on our own. Free Enterprise. The American Dream. Horatio Alger gone mad on drugs in Las Vegas. Do it now: pure Gonzo journalism.”
You’ll find out more in the Paris Review‘s interview with Thompson, in which he recounts once feeling that “journalism was just a ticket to ride out, that I was basically meant for higher things. Novels.” Sitting down to begin his proper literary career, Thompson took a quick job writing up the Hell’s Angels, which let him get over “the idea that journalism was a lower calling. Journalism is fun because it offers immediate work. You get hired and at least you can cover the f&cking City Hall. It’s exciting.” And then came the real epiphany, after he went to cover the Kentucky Derby for Scanlan‘s: “Most depressing days of my life. I’d lie in my tub at the Royalton. I thought I had failed completely as a journalist. Finally, in desperation and embarrassment, I began to rip the pages out of my notebook and give them to a copyboy to take to a fax machine down the street. When I left I was a broken man, failed totally, and convinced I’d be exposed when the stuff came out.”
Indeed, the exposure came, but not in the way he expected. Below, we’ve collected ten of Thompson’s articles freely available online, from those early pieces on the Hell’s Angels and the Kentucky Derby to others on the 1972 Presidential race, the Honolulu Marathon, Richard Nixon, and wee-hour conversations with Bill Murray. But don’t take these subjects too literally; Thompson always had a way of finding something even more interesting in exactly the opposite direction from whatever he’d initially meant to write about. And that, perhaps, reveals more about the gonzo method than anything else.
“The Motorcycle Gangs: Losers and Outsiders” (The Nation, 1965) The article that would become the basis for Thompson’s first book, Hell’s Angels: The Strange and Terrible Saga of the Outlaw Motorcycle Gangs. “When you get in an argument with a group of outlaw motorcyclists, you can generally count your chances of emerging unmaimed by the number of heavy-handed allies you can muster in the time it takes to smash a beer bottle. In this league, sportsmanship is for old liberals and young fools.”
“The Hippies” (Collier’s, 1968) Thompson’s assessment of the actual lifespan of American hippie culture. “The hippie in 1967 was put in the strange position of being an anti-culture hero at the same time as he was also becoming a hot commercial property. His banner of alienation appeared to be planted in quicksand. The very society he was trying to drop out of began idealizing him. He was famous in a hazy kind of way that was not quite infamy but still colorfully ambivalent and vaguely disturbing.”
“The Kentucky Derby is Decadent and Depraved” (Scanlan’s Monthly, 1970) A report from the bacchanal surrounding the Kentucky Derby, America’s most famous — and, in this depiction, by far its most grotesque — horse race. Also Thompson’s first collaboration with his longtime illustrator Ralph Steadman. (See also further background at Grantland.) “Unlike most of the others in the press box, we didn’t give a hoot in hell what was happening on the track. We had come there to watch the real beasts perform.”
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas (Rolling Stone, 1971) The Gonzo journalism classic first appeared as a two-part series in Rolling Stone magazine in November 1971, complete with illustrations from Ralph Steadman, before being published as a book in 1972. Rolling Stone has posted the original version on its web site.
“Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail in ’72” (Rolling Stone, 1973) Excerpts from Thompson’s book of nearly the same name, an examination of Democratic Party candidate George McGovern’s unsuccessful bid for the Presidency that McGovern’s campaign manager Frank Mankiewicz called “the least factual, most accurate account” in print. “My own theory, which sounds like madness, is that McGovern would have been better off running against Nixon with the same kind of neo-‘radical’ campaign he ran in the primaries. Not radical in the left/right sense, but radical in a sense that he was coming on with a new… a different type of politician… a person who actually would grab the system by the ears and shake it.”
“The Curse of Lono” (Playboy, 1983) Thompson and Steadman’s assignment from Running magazine to cover the Honololu marathon turns into a characteristically “terrible misadventure,” this one even involving the old Hawaiian gods. “It was not easy for me, either, to accept the fact that I was born 1700 years ago in an ocean-going canoe somewhere off the Kona Coast of Hawaii, a prince of royal Polynesian blood, and lived my first life as King Lono, ruler of all the islands, god of excess, undefeated boxer. How’s that for roots?”
“He Was a Crook” (Rolling Stone, 1994) Thompson’s obituary of, and personal history of his hatred for, President Richard M. Nixon. “Some people will say that words like scum and rotten are wrong for Objective Journalism — which is true, but they miss the point. It was the built-in blind spots of the Objective rules and dogma that allowed Nixon to slither into the White House in the first place.
“Doomed Love at the Taco Stand” (Time, 2001) Thompson’s adventures in California, to which he has returned for the production of Terry Gilliam’s film adaptation of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas starring Johnny Depp. “I had to settle for half of Depp’s trailer, along with his C4 Porsche and his wig, so I could look more like myself when I drove around Beverly Hills and stared at people when we rolled to a halt at stoplights on Rodeo Drive.”
“Fear & Loathing in America” (ESPN.com, 2001) In the immediate aftermath of 9/11, Thompson looks out onto the grim and paranoid future he sees ahead. “This is going to be a very expensive war, and Victory is not guaranteed — for anyone, and certainly not for anyone as baffled as George W. Bush.”
“Prisoner of Denver” (Vanity Fair, 2004) A chronicle of Thompson’s (posthumously successful) involvement in the case of Lisl Auman, a young woman he believed wrongfully imprisoned for the murder of a police officer. “‘We’ is the most powerful word in politics. Today it’s Lisl Auman, but tomorrow it could be you, me, us.”
“Shotgun Golf with Bill Murray” (ESPN.com, 2005) Thompson’s final piece of writing, in which he runs an idea for a new sport —combining golf, Japanese multistory driving ranges, and the discharging of shotguns — by the comedy legend at 3:30 in the morning. “It was Bill Murray who taught me how to mortify your opponents in any sporting contest, honest or otherwise. He taught me my humiliating PGA fadeaway shot, which has earned me a lot of money… after that, I taught him how to swim, and then I introduced him to the shooting arts, and now he wins everything he touches.”
Hunter S. Thompson Remembers Jimmy Carter’s Captivating Bob Dylan Speech (1974)
Colin Marshall hosts and produces Notebook on Cities and Culture and writes essays on cities, Asia, film, literature, and aesthetics. He’s at work on a book about Los Angeles, A Los Angeles Primer. Follow him on Twitter at @colinmarshall or on his brand new Facebook page.
WOODSTOCK-THE 45TH ANNIVERSARY Bethel, New YorkIt was held at Max Yasgur’s
600-acre (240 ha; 0.94 sq mi) dairy farm in the Catskills near the hamlet of White Lake
in the town of Bethel, New York, from August 15 to 18, 1969. Bethel, in Sullivan County,
is 43 miles (69 km) southwest of the town of Woodstock, New York, in adjoining Ulster
Need to recharge your flower power? Explore “The Sixties” all next week, Monday through Friday, August 18-22 at 9 p.m. on CNN.
(CNN) — Officially billed as The Woodstock Music and Art Fair, An Aquarian Exposition, the festival that came to be known, simply, as Woodstock is the stuff of legend.
WOODSTOCK-THE SIXTIES-SEX-DRUGS-ROCK AND ROLL FESTIVAL
Friday marks the 45th anniversary of Woodstock, which took place from August 15-18, 1969.
Woodstock didn’t take place in Woodstock, New York, but in Bethel, about 60 miles away.
“It was really called Woodstock because (festival co-creator) Mike Lang thought it had the right vibe,” Bob Spitz, journalist and author of “Barefoot in Babylon: The Creation of the Woodstock Music Festival, 1969” told CNN.
“Woodstock was where Bob Dylan lived,” said Spitz, “It’s where The Band hung out and he just liked the whole feel of the word. No matter where they were gonna have it, it was always going to be the Woodstock Music and Art Fair. Everything about Woodstock has to do with the vibe.”
‘The Sixties’ all next week on CNN
60’s: Sex, Drugs & Rock N’ Roll
Max Yasgur provided Woodstock’s venue by leasing out his 600-acre dairy farm near the hamlet of White Lake in the Catskill Mountain community of Bethel, New York, 100 miles north of Manhattan.
The posters promised “3 Days of Peace & Music,” but the festival’s initial concept “depends on who you talk to,” said Spitz.
Lang and festival promoter Artie Kornfeld wanted to have a blowout that was “the biggest party the counterculture had ever seen,” said Spitz. “If you talk to their partners, John Roberts and Joel Rosenman, who were the money guys, it was to make a lot of money.”
For the crowd of 350,000 to 450,000 young people in attendance, Woodstock was all about peace and love, and that’s no myth.
“The entire Woodstock festival was peaceful and the kids were respectful because of one word: marijuana,” said Spitz. “Everybody was high. If it had been other drugs it would’ve been chaos. But because of dope and LSD, everything was peaceful there for those three days.”
Festival organizers who had been expecting a crowd of 80,000 to 100,000 people were blindsided when quadruple the crowd showed up. No one was prepared for a surplus of 300,000 people. With no system in place to charge them, Woodstock became a free event.
Cars within a five-mile radius were at a standstill. New York Gov. Nelson Rockefeller declared a state of emergency in White Lake. By Woodstock’s second day, authorities publicly pleaded for anyone who might be on their way to the festival to turn around and go home. Eventually no one could get out or in unless they needed to be airlifted. Festival managers scrambled to fly in 30 extra physicians from New York City.
Santana vocalist Gregg Rolie spoke to CNN while promoting the Blu-ray release of the director’s cut of the 1970 Academy Award-winning documentary “Woodstock: 3 Days of Peace and Music.”
Rolie recalled arriving with the other members of Santana via helicopter.
“We flew in because everybody parked on the highway,” said Rolie. “It was kinda like ‘Close Encounters’ or ‘Field of Dreams,’ you know? ‘If you build it, they will come.’ The highways were closed. Upstate New York was like a parking lot. So we had to fly in on helicopters.”
Santana’s appearance is considered one of the festival highlights. The band played early on, before the first of two downpours that reduced Yasgur’s alfalfa field to a sloppy, slippery slew of mud puddles.
All of Santana’s music was new at the time and the band was virtually unknown. They had not yet released their first album. Woodstock is credited for jump starting Santana’s career.
“If you played at Woodstock, you had a career,” said Rolie, who had no idea that the festival’s legacy would resonate so powerfully 45 years later.
Woodstock’s lineup also included Joan Baez, Jefferson Airplane, Janis Joplin, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young; Joe Cocker, Creedence Clearwater Revival and The Band, among others.
Jimi Hendrix closed the festival. By the time he began his Monday morning set, which included his celebrated rendition of “The Star-Spangled Banner,” the crowd had thinned out to 200,000. Many had to get to work, school, wanted to get a jump on the traffic or simply could not endure the close quarters any longer. Even so, Hendrix had never performed in front of such a big group before and nearly bailed.
Although Woodstock has been lifted onto a pedestal in certain ways, by all accounts the festival lived up to the fable. The fairy tale, though largely drug-laden, was a reality for those in attendance.
Watch ‘The Sixties’
Need to recharge your flower power? Explore “The Sixties” all next week, Monday through Friday August 18-22, at 9 p.m. on CNN.
It can be difficult to connect the storybook reality with Woodstock’s harsher realities like overflowed toilets, lack of food and water, and a makeshift, 20-bed hospital tent to accommodate roughly 3,000 medical emergencies.
A tractor crushed a teenage boy in a sleeping bag, fatally wounding him. One young man died of a heroin overdose, another died of a burst appendix. A young woman broke her back falling off of stage scaffolding.
In addition, there were about 400 bad acid trips, sprained ankles from sliding in the mud, and many a gashed foot as a result of stepping barefoot on broken glass.
Two babies were born, too. One child arrived in traffic en route to the festival, and the other was delivered in a hospital after the mother was airlifted out of the field.
A lot of sex was going on at Woodstock and, according to Spitz, a lot of women forgot to pack their birth control so supplies of birth control pills were flown in.
For an event where facilities were strained far past capacity, not a single fight or incident of violence erupted among the crowd, which endured near-unbearable conditions.
Town elders, residents, shopkeepers and local police couldn’t get over how courteous and considerate the kids were — all 450,000 or so of them.
Woodstock’s financial backers were not so lucky. They took a bath — and not a mud one — to the tune of $1.3 million.
Spitz called Woodstock “the beginning of the end of the ’60s” because it, along with the moon landing, represented a bright period after the deaths of John F. Kennedy, Malcolm X, the Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. and Robert Kennedy, and before the breakup of the Beatles and the deaths of Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix and Jim Morrison.
Woodstock is legendary for many reasons, but what made it magical was the value people placed on one another.
“If these are the kids that are going to inherit the world,” Max Yasgur said at the time, “I don’t fear for it.”
#5. Everyone on the Highway Is Boning
George Doyle/Stockbyte/Getty Images
Our nation’s highways are so full of people fillin’ ‘er up that it’s a wonder our species hasn’t died in a massive orgiastic pile of twisted metal and bared flesh.
And truck drivers can see all of it.
“How about closing the sunroof so we don’t have to smell all of it, too?”
“Every truck that passes you has a driver perched comfortably on the summit of Mount Watch-You-Fuck,” Quis told us. “So whether you’re into highway head, roadway romps, slingin’ salami, or the two-finger tunnel run, know that you will be seen.”
Truckers and comedy writers share a love of sexual euphemisms.
“I passed a guy once who was on the receiving end of a very energetic cock gobble. For the briefest of moments our eyes met, and he smiled as if to say, ‘Yup, she’s blowin’ me.’ I’ve seen a woman who was so far into her own snatch that she had one leg propped against the dash … My all-time favorite, though, belongs to the greatest old man ever. When I say old, I don’t mean he’s a little past his prime, either. This dude was easily on the losing side of 60, and he passed me beating his dick like it just spray painted graffiti in Singapore.”
This stuff is so common, Spline says that “one of the best ways to spot a newbie truck driver is when they blow up the CB radio by calling the action like Howard Cosell*: ‘He’s past third and heading for home!'”
Fat chance. Nobody could call road sex like Cosell.
*Dear younger readers: Howard Cosell was a baseball commentator.**
**Dear nerdier readers: Baseball was something like Quidditch, but much more homoerotic and played while secretly on drugs.
#4. The Truck That You Think Doesn’t Belong on This Road Probably Does Not Belong on This Road
Have you ever been driving along some twisting back road only to get nearly run off a corner by some 80-foot mega-beast that surely has no business being on that road? Well, it probably didn’t have any business on that road, and that trucker wasn’t an asshole, he was a spider: He was more scared than you were. It’s hard to imagine anyone getting thoroughly lost in the days of smartphones and GPS, but that’s not always the best option for a trucker:
Creatas Images/Creatas/Getty Images
Plus, the highway patrol is really leery of sextant navigation.
“The primary reason trucking companies want us using GPS is because they plot the absolute shortest route possible, regardless of how efficient or safe,” Quis told us. “But believe me, shorter does not equal quicker.” His GPS once led him down a street that “a pickup would have trouble turning around in,” and he ended up knocking over a streetlamp without even realizing it. Trucks aren’t supposed to go into residential areas, but at the same time, they often have to make deliveries to residential areas.
Spline ended up in a worse situation. Near where she lives in Oregon, there’s a road called the 242, which (on paper) is the shortest route between Sisters and Eugene — but in reality, it’s not a route you can take with a truck. But your GPS doesn’t know that, and if you don’t do your own research, you’ll be slaloming a metal whale across a winding highway that even sport bikes have trouble taking at speed.
Pawe‚ Kuźniar, via Wikipedia
“Just shift down to third, wuss. You’ll be fine.”
#3. Yes, Prostitutes and Drugs Are Everywhere
Mark Rasmussen/Hemera/Getty Images
If you’ve ever been to a truck stop, you’ve probably interacted with a prostitute and not known it. Or absolutely, unquestionably known all about it. It really depends on the subtlety of the prostitute. “Lot lizards” are a permanent fixture at most depots, and will work in conjunction with drug dealers and pimps to keep professional rambling men buried in their chosen vice. Spline told us this story:
“The dude I was driving with — he and I were, well, you know — and there was a knock on the door. Turned out to be a prostitute who wanted to know if we wanted extra company.”
That’s how bold the lot lizards are: They see you right in the middle of boning, and they still try to sell you some boning.
Franck Camhi/Hemera/Getty Images
There may be worse ways to earn rent, but we sure as hell can’t think of any.
The dealers use the CB radio waves — that’s the thing you use to holler “10-4, good buddy” and sing “Convoy” and then say “I’m sorry, I’ll stop now and never use it again” — to advertise “white smoke” (meth). When the cops show up, truckers repay the favor by telling the lot lizards where they are, sometimes letting them hide out in their truck until the heat dies down.
Which makes sense, because the cops are way more interested in nailing the women than the johns. That’s something they’ve got in common with the johns, actually.
Of course, after spending all your time at a rural truck stop, jail is probably welcomed relief.