Dirty Sanchez Smokes Much Ganja, Drinks Many Red Stripes

| 17 Feb 2015 | 01:19

    Supertanned Sanchez typesthis to you mere hours after landing at JFK, home from a jaunt to Jamaica!Weakhearted Sanchez had to sit and calm himself down from a false-alarm encounterwith U.S. Customs before attending to his column. For before Sanchezand his Gang of Burnt Whiteys could exit to the baggage claim, they andthe rest of the passengers were lined up single file down a long hallway, andordered to drop their carry-ons on the floor beside them. At the end of thehallway a door opened, and a tiny beagle on a leash dragged his customs-copleash-bearer down the hall, sniffing and running around in circles. It was atthis point that the droll Sister of Sanchez turned to Sanchez and whisperedconnivingly, "The Sister of Sanchez whispers connivingly that Sanchez needn'tworry, as she's hid the weed in her cunt!" As she said this, dichotomousSanchez wondered if he could shit his pants and burst into tears simultaneously-andevery sniff the little beagle sniffed brought knowledge-seeking Sanchez closerto discovery! But hallelujah, the beagle detected no contraband substances!Quick-minded Sanchez tried to quip about the overpowering aroma of his Sister'swomanliness when the Sister of Sanchez revealed she was joking. "What ajape, what a jest, how jocose, what a knee-slapper, hisses pissed-off Sanchez,"pissed-off Sanchez hissed at his Sister while they waited in the taxi line.But his Sister, who had spent the past five days getting the living bejesusfucked out of her in the tropics, perhaps was still a little giddy on the endorphinsand waved Sanchez's rage away with a laugh. Time-manipulating Sanchezinvites the reader backward through his week, to the day that the Wiper, theLumpy Lass, the Wookie, as well as Sanchez and his Sister, arrived at JFK, ticketsin hand to find that Air Jamaica must be Latin for "how to fuckover unsuspecting vacationers by overbooking flights like they got a free burgerat Wendy's for every tourist screwed!" It was not only Sanchez andcompany, but at least 20 other people gathered around the same Buster Keaton-facedstewardess yelling at the top of their lungs that they didn't find the freenight at the JFK Radisson and a flight the next afternoon an appealingoption! Humble Sanchez thanks the Powers That Be for the Wookie's knowledgeof airline scammery, acquired mostly through her job as an assistant to somebodyin show business. Noting that the Wiper hadbrought his beat-up Takamine acoustic guitar, the Wookie snapped thecell phone open, called the office and had a friend call up the airline andtell them that we were a band and that we had a planned recording sessionwith Ziggy Marley that night. Axiom-slinging Sanchez says: It's not whoyou know, it's who you can get to fake like they work for somebody important!Moments after she hung up the cell phone, the door behind the check-in counteropened, and Buster Keaton reemerged with six boarding passes in her hand. ThankfulSanchez savored the sound of the unluckier ticket-bearers-most of them honeymooningcouples aching to hump on the Caribbean sands-yelling and cursing at theSanchez Gang as they ran toward the gate! Sanchez was unsurprisedto find himself in a middle seat between two sharp-elbowed bips. Butalways-prepared Sanchez had brought a copy of the new Motorbooty,and spent the three-hour flight enjoying Mark Dancey and Mike Rubin'sfollowup piece to a very funny cartoon about the Insane Clown Posse thatwas published in Spin last year-one rife with the kind of cheapshots Sanchez loves, making fun of the stupid, the drunk, the musically derivative,the teenaged-and-prone-to-ludicrously-zealous-dedication set (not to mentionthe teenaged-and-prone-to-getting-too-drunk-and-puking-before-the-show-even-startsset). Of course, you could find these things to make fun of at absolutely any event involving young people, popular music and the people who make it-but howmuch easier to twist the knife when it involves whitey! Ha ha, whitey,getting drunk and listening to bad music! Phooey to you, whitey, noteven cool enough to know how to hate one's own whiteness! The followup cartoon backpedalsfuriously, describing the Internet and voicemail harassment hurledat Dancey and Rubin, then segues into a history of violence against critics-pleadingSanchez really wants a poster-sized blowup of the panel depicting ChuckEddy getting icewater-attacked by the Beastie Boys, Christgaureceiving an envelope full of cum in the mail or Tricky kicking the shitout of English journalist Craig McLean while a Tricky-flunky holds thepoor writer down. At the end of the piece, Dancey and Rubin take credit forI.C.P. member Violent J's nervous breakdown-applauding Sanchezcan only say: Whoo-hoo for you, victorious hipsters! Earlier in the magazine,an article by the same self-loathing duo shows parody collectors'-cards forwhite rappers like Fred Durst, Vanilla Ice and the ChicagoBears. Later in the magazine, a page entitled "Great Bad Asses in AmericanPopular Music" depicts black singer Johnny Ace, who "blew hisdome off" in 1954. That feature ends with the line, "Ace was 25 andbeautiful." And so the Sanchez Ganglanded in Jamaica, and boarded a minibus bound for Negril-which, thoughbeing perhaps the most evil tourist town on Earth, sports a helluva sunset.The driver stopped near a town called Lucea and for 50 bucks U.S. gotthe Gang a stalk of marijuana bigger than the business end of a broom. Laterin the holiday Sanchez found out they were still probably taken for 30bucks. But even the cold heart of Sanchez was gladdened by the shriek of delightthe Wookie, the Wiper, and his Sister made when they first saw the thing! The Lumpy Lass-thoughtfulas she was-pooled the party's money, getting herself a room at fenced-in fratboyplayground Hedonism II and setting up the rest of us in a shack at aplace called Roots Bamboo. The Lass' plan was that we all take advantageof her guesthood at Hedonism, crash the party and enjoy the free drinks. Thisturned out to mean bribing the security guards at the side fence, somethingwithin the Wiper's means but certainly beyond those of Sanchez. Anyway, the Sister of Sanchezwrangled her way in and made a beeline for the nude beach, and upon returningreported having seen so many very ugly penises and saggy boobs she may haveto start taking antidepressants to forget those five minutes of her life. Back down at Roots Bamboo-whichwas booked solid; thinking herself a genius for booking the vacation for theoff-season, the Lumpy Lass had in fact selected Memorial Day weekend-lotswere drawn and bunks selected. The Sister of Sanchez slept alone, while theWookie and Sanchez shared a measly twin bed. The best part for Sanchez was when,in the middle of the night, he would inadvertently shift toward the Wookie andshe would scoot away, seemingly disgusted by the thought of the tiniest bitof Sanchez's flab touching her! Relieved Sanchez is greatly comforted by theknowledge that there's a girl in the world more repulsed by Sanchez than Sanchezhimself! The next morning Sanchezwas accosted by the owner of a glass boat, a man calling himself The FamousRackliff. The Famous Rackliff had two Nike swooshes-they looked likea yin/yang of fishhooks-shaved into the back of his head, and vendedeager Sanchez a baggie of yellow cocaine for too much money, smilingthe entire time, a very weirdly genuine smile. Supersucker Sanchez very muchenjoyed the Jamaican mode of negotiation, which goes something like this: "Howmuch for X?" And the Famous Rackliff would reply, "How much yuh t'inkit worth?" So it went with every other hustler Sanchez and the girls flankinghim (the Wiper daily paid the do-re-mi to the Hedonism staff and pretty much stayed there; Sanchez, not hearing the squeaky throat noise the Wiper makeswhen pushing the cushion of the Lumpy Lass, was strangely unnerved for the lackof its comforting wheeze). By the third day of thevacation, the Wookie's sunburned nipples caused her to be constantlyon the verge of tears. The ass of the Sister of Sanchez, meanwhile, became near-legendaryon the beach-every third hustler asked perturbed Sanchez "Where yuh sista,mon? Where yuh sista?" Superstoned Sanchez keptdoing the yellow lines with the Wookie, and when finally the charlie was goneSanchez went down to the beach to scare up some more-ending up paying 30 bucksfor a bag of baking soda! The best part of that fiasco was that whenshamed Sanchez shuffled back to the Famous Rackliff for more of his yellow wares,Rackliff became enraged upon hearing that Sanchez had allowed himselfto get hustled. "Why yuh must do that, mon?" Rackliff barked. "Igot me pickney to feed! A child! You do that one more time and we nuh friendsno more!" Unsavvy Sanchez couldn'tfind a better hook-up (the most information Sanchez could squeeze from the barmaidabout the dealers around was, "Him work here," or "Him nuh workhere"). So he took up the Famous Rackliff's offer of friendship, renteda scooter and spent the remaining few days blazingly fucked up, scootering upand down Norman Manley Blvd., the two-lane country road that comprisesNegril. The last night of his stay,party-minded Sanchez drank a lot of rum and ambled toward his scooter. It waswhen drunken Sanchez was fighting a comical battle with the kickstand that twohustler-type-guys came up on either side of him, pulling him away from the bike."No, mon," the one with the gold teeth said, "you nuh need togo to hospital on yuh vacation. Tomorrow you can ride. Tonight you nuh needget fucked up." They persuaded Sanchez to pay them 500 Jamaican dollars-somethinglike 20 bucks?-to share a ride with three acned Swedish girls down to a placewhere a punch-the-clock Bob Marley cover band played the same batch ofBob songs played by every cover band that night on the beach in Negril. Usually unsentimental Sanchezalmost sort of danced even, and when the hustler-fellows who saved drunk Sanchezfrom death on the road asked him insistently to buy them Red Stripes,he did. The Heart of Sanchez was free! Sanchez was drunk enough to dance publiclyto rote executions of Bob Marley numbers! Ecstatic Sanchez boogied with oneof the Swedish girls, who was 25 but so small it made skanking Sanchez feellike changing his name to Jah Humbert. Finally Sanchez stumbledout to the road, where a guy in a Honda Accord emblazoned with Kingacross the windshield offered Sanchez a ride. "How much to RootsBamboo?" Sanchez asked. "How much you t'inkyou pay?" the cabby answered. NEXT WEEK: Valiant Sanchez defeats the forces of darkness!