The Unda Brass, drinking vodka in the airport lounge and dressed like fat rich tourists from Florida, were waiting for me when I flew in from Washington, and we have agreed to disagree. I’d been asleep for 8 deep hours thanks to the LA Dispensary lollies and they took me by surprise, but we soon undastood each other. I know too much and so do they. I get to keep the fortnightly cheques (which Pipe claims as the Tribes now!) but they leave me alone in exchange for “certain favors”. Like where the good weed is, and any new big movers. Little chance of that in the land of unorganised crime I said but that’s just what fascinates them.

( full story … Hoodies Down Unda )