Leary: “Tune in. Turn on. Drop out. And when you’re finished with that, take some time to enjoy delicious light and buttery Town House™ crackers—alone or with your favorite toppings…!
“Mmmmmm. Goooood cracker!”
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Recent Comments
- In The Mailbox: 02.28.23 (Afternoon Edition) : The Other McCain on Hey, longtime pw readers…
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I had forgotten about his ashes being launced into space. Was he marked Return to Cinder? He urned it.
JW – Ohhh … groan …
[keyword “greater” but I would have expected it!”
Keebler Town House crackers are vailable in Original, Wheat, Reduced Fat or Reduced Sodium flavors.
No Windowpane or Orange Barrel?
…besides, reading a lot of your posts, Jeff takes me back to my acid days. Except for the tracers…
We’re back to parmesan again!
I don’t think Dr. Leary would have aged well. The lack of functioning brain cells would have played a role.
I have visions of Timothy swimming in a vat of Cheez-Its incoherently orating upon the merits of Marxism and its relationship to the free-love movement. ‘Course, he’d probably be more partial to another Keebler snack…
No JW, but there are some Strawberry Owsleys and some Orange Doubledomes.
Keyword “remember.” Huh?
CraigC – Those must’ve been post 60s?
“Your Are the Shunshine of My Life†! … though Keebler might not be too happy.
Shit, Jeff. Okay, LSD, Leary, crackers—finally I get it. Just know that those of us heavily into “crackers” at one time are at a decided cognitive disadvantage now. Somehow, I think you planned it this way to torment us.
… yeah, see, these crackers, they’re made by these little dudes that live in trees – I know this sounds cracked up – but it’s true. And these little dudes have these little machines and they are everywhere – they’re everywhere with their little machines just doing their little machine things – everywhere, covering everything, Oh, My God, I can’t look anywhere without seeing them. Please stop the little dudes with the machines! I can’t get them out of my head! Somebody open up the freezer door and give me about 10cc’s of adrenaline! I CAN’T TAKE IT! THE MACHINES! URANUS IS MY MASTER! Aaaaarrrrrrrrgggggghhhhhhh!
JW–The Owsleys, definitely not. Owsley’s stuff was the Cadillac of LSD. They were called “speckled flats” because of their appearance, and were color-coded by potency. As I recall, the White ones were 100 mics, green was 250, purple (also called “Purple Haze”) was 500, and the big bombers were Strawberry Flats (also called Strawberry Fields), weighing in at 750 mics.
The doubledomes are a little iffier, although I’m pretty sure the memory I have of standing at the intersection of University Boulevard and Adelphi Road in suburban Maryland throwing up (they were notorious for having strychnine, I found out a little too late) was in 1969.
Well, now you guys know something about me, and I’m sure it will be our little secret.
HA! Keyword, “maybe.”
MC!
<cuff up the side of the head>
<shake>
<smooch>
Wake up that sleeping chicken!
[keyword “friend” OK!]
And BTW, Jeff, Bob Marley would be a better spokesman for Keebler. Ya didn’t want to do much eating when you were tripping.
Although those elves were kinda psychedelic,
Those Keebler Elves freak me out. And I won’t even mention what I think about Snuggles the Bear. (James Dobson has a lot more work to do.)
<Wakes up. Enjoys smmmmoooooccccchhhhhh a little longer.>
Thanks M’lady! Thought I was a gonner there.
CraigC – That really wasn’t a strawberry cracker you gave me to help out with Diana’s recipe was it? That stuff stay potent for like 36 years? Or was it just pickled in that nasty old wallet you carry around?
JWebb – Now that I can actually see a couple of feet in front of my face, good to see your lyrical inclinations are in fine form today.
Keebler is going out of business. The FDA has pulled the food production license on the hollow tree.
CraigC – Thanks, “speckled flats” I remember (sorta). Texas Jam ‘69 I was peaking on those mothers while waiting in the Orange Julius line. I remember because Janis Joplin and her HUGE afro’d horn player wandered out from behind the stand somewhere and she gave me a big hug and boozy smooch for giving her my Julius. The rest of the night my fellow fucked-up cohorts were repeatedly saying “Did that really happen? That couldn’t have happened! Did that really happen?” — Fucking Owsleys.
Too bad she didn’t give you something else. Not that she was loose, or anything.
If she did give me something else, I might have contracted something else. Not that she was loose, or anything.
Yeah, but it would have been so worth it. I mean, in those days, the worst that could have happened would be getting the killer clap. Just think, after you recovered from your dick falling off, you could tell everyone you boinked Janis.
“AND I’LL NEVER BOINK ANYONE AGAIN!”
Ooohhh Nooooo !
TownHouseâ„¢ – good cracker.
Robert Byrd – bad cracker.
Mmmmm…I believe that was Ritz crackers.
JWebb – So was there anything (otnay otay ivegay omethingsay awaysay) that you, like, ever wrote down – that you wanted Janis to, like, sing or something?
Just thinking about that possibility gives me chills – I mean, good, melodic, harmonious, tuneful chills.
’Course I could be just coming down offa that strawberry…
Then there’s always this.
Alright. The original line was “Oh Lord can you buy me a Chevy with fins?”
Oh Lord, can you buy me…a Chevy with fins
My friends all are pregnant, most likely with twins
I love Southern Comfort, it gives me the grins
Oh Lord, can you buy me, a Chevy with fins
And now that I think about it, they were black doubledomes, and it had to be 1970 or later.
Just thought you’d want to know.
Dang, I thought it would be Moanin’ at Midnight for sure.
You were mighty kind to let her pilfer that one and class it up a little.
OK, all I got to say is “Buwahahahahahahaha!” … just can’t hold it in any longer.
JWebb, CraigC – Now them’s funny rat there – if you don’t think that’s funny, you can just Git-r-done!
What?
Is that Southern talk?
Actually, no. It’s not.
I feel like Red Foreman after walking into the basement unnoticed by Eric and his friends.
And then there was the individual I met, later on, Brotherhood Sunshine era, who informed me that according to the clinic in San Francisco his clap was a hand-me-down five people removed from Janis Joplin.
“I feel like Red Foreman after walking into the basement unnoticed by Eric and his friends.”
I just got back from cruising “Eschaton” for the first time and I not only feel like I’m on acid, but that I fell through the outhouse bench.
:…his clap was a hand-me-down five people removed from Janis Joplin.”
So now we know where “five degrees of penetration” comes from.