an homage

for my pal, danknuggets.  this was stoney’s idea, but he’s been writing a bunch of bitchy, whiny blogs lately, so his vag is probably too sore to type a real post right now.  that means, it falls to me.

danknuggets — the name alone conjures images of neon-greenish ganga trees blowing in the rastafarian jamaican breeze.  that’s the image that comes to mind when i consider my friend danknugs. 

danknuggets resides in a suburb of one of our nation’s largest and most fucking ridiculous cities.  this city is diverse, but dank’s town is nothing of the sort.  you can walk around for hours and never see a non-white.  the results of this phenomenon are simple.  instead of newspapers flooded with stories about black-on-black crime, they’re flooded with stories about white-on-white crime…  also, you don’t even need to take your keys into the convenience store with you when you go buy some blunts.  just leave your car running, and walk in, do your shopping and walk out.  your car will be there, and some white stranger may even have tightened the lug nuts on your wheels.  anyway, that said, the town is lovely.  it features rolling hills, lovely fields of grain, big-ass houses, a whimsical train station and several fine dining/drinking establishments.  this is the town in which our hero grew up and first spread his wings…

beneath the placid exterior of this town, however, lies a heart of darkness.  there are weed-heads, coniving-ass hoes and tons of coke traffic — or so the story goes.  this seedy underbelly is where Dank (DN) really spent his teenage years.  after four years of ripping huge bongs and captaining his soccer team, DN was honored with the title of Mr. (DN’s state of residence).  he had played by his own rules and had bested his peers.  he graduated high school with honors and went on to a lovely little southern college.

it was at this college that DN and i first met.  it was the first week of the freshman year.  he was pimping a hoe, and i was pimping a hoe.  both of us had just met these hoes, so we were flexing out proverbial muscles to try and impress these hoes as best we could.  i noticed in DN a worthy adversary and decided to take him on — like two worthy knights trying to slay each other for the sake of proving their verility to the courtly maidens.  no need to go into needless details, so i’ll just say that the ensuing verbal fist-fight concerned marijuana.  he thought he knew most, while i thought i knew most.  SIDEBAR:  had i known anything at all, i’d have known not to try and battle DN when it comes to any ganga-related issue.  either way, the auditory fisticuffs came to an abrupt end.  both hoes in question were, if i recall, sufficiently impressed, and DN and i parted ways, exchanging squints and snears as if to say, “this ain’t over.”

as we lived in separate dormitories, i did not run into DN for quite some time — about a month.  during that time, stoney had befriended me, and i had been invited to a mystical place called the gazebo (known to deddog as the GAZ) to partake in a ritual blunt-smoking.  after a few rejections, i finally accepted and walked over there with stoney.  on the way, he told me about the dude who would be meeting us there and, consequently, providing the herbage.  his name was — you guessed it — danknuggets.  i didn’t know who this was, but when he arrived, i immediately recognized him from our first meeting.  what he was feeling, i cannot say, because we never discussed it.  rather, he sat down, bid us hello, lit a fat-ass kine cone and proceeded to blaze the shit out of it with stoney and myself.  after that, there was rarely a day that we did not replicate this procedure exactly.  it was a scientific experiment.  our research question — how much weed can some dumb-ass white boys smoke before they flunk the fuck out?  the answer — apparently more than we were capable of smoking.

mentioning every idiosycracy of DN’s character would not be a good use of time, so i’ll merely highlight some of the finer points.

first, DN is a rasta.  he is white, but his soul is black — black as bob marley’s i swear to god.  he hosted a reggae radio show.  at this show, lots of people showed up, and it was a weekly social event.  we drank beers down there and even, if you believe the lore, smoked a couple joints down there.  in addition, this rasta man introduced me to real bob marley music.  you may be saying to yourself, “i know bob marley music.”  well, fuck you.  you don’t know shit.  you own the Legend album.  you close your eyes and rock back and forth listening to “no woman no cry,” and you think you know about reggae.  you, motherfucker, don’t know shit.  during my four years of knowing DN he introduced me to more scratchy, vinyl reggae than i could have properly processed in a life-time.  in addition to this, he taught me about reggae history and rastafarian culture.  lastly, he taught me about how fucked up a white boy’s dreadlocks can look.  and let me tell you, they can look pretty fucked up, indeed.

DN is a weedsly dude, too.  he knows all there is to know about the sticky green.  from his youth, he smoked on the reg.  he taught me how to find it, how to procure it, how to prepare it and how to smoke it.  i had nothing but some rudimentary high school knowledge, but after four years of DN’s expert tutelage, i can say that i have a motherfucking weed ph.d.  believe that shit.

DN is a musician.  he played guitar on the back porch of his woodshire estate with a lit cigarette dangling from his lips, eyes squinted from the smoke, ashes floating down into the guitar’s body at all hours.  if you were ever looking for dank, just follow the sound of out-of-tune acoustic (or unplugged electric) guitar chords, and you were sure to find him.

that’s a rough sketch of my pal, DN, but i have a motive.  that lazy son of a bitch won’t lower himself to writing on this blog.  i wrote this blog in the hopes that, knowing what you now know about the man, you’ll write enough harrassing posts to provoke him into our cesspool of electronic sewage.

this has been an homage to Danknuggets. 

and finally, the benediction: 

hey, hey, hey, hey,

smoke weed every day.

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5 Responses to “an homage”


  1. 1 stoneywageslave March 28, 2007 at 12:58 pm

    stoney says:

    some of us go to “work” which gives us a unique “shitty perspective” on certain things, like the relationship between slavery and eating food. if you are going to bitch about my tint, then get yo own blog bitch! theyre free!

    that said, I haven’t even read this yet, but i will confirm it all as true. dank nuggets is a true 100% savage, and his absence is BRINGING DOWN THE SOLIDARITY of this blog.

    dankiel, please come home. we miss you out here in stoneyland.

  2. 2 stoneywageslave March 28, 2007 at 1:01 pm

    by the by, suit, you missed out on one of dank’s principle and most powerful assets —- his dead sexiness

    danknuggets was voted twice, thats right, ugly people, TWICE, as the “Best Looking” boy in his grade….once in 8th grade, and then in high school. PLEASE tell me you know someone that good looking.

    I DID NOT THINK SO.

    ergo another classic callsign — “The prettiest nigga in Jersey”

  3. 3 his royal dankness March 28, 2007 at 6:45 pm

    i do declare!

  4. 4 suityourself March 30, 2007 at 9:26 am

    i officially withdraw the “sore vag” line from this post. it was insensitive, unkind and generally in poor taste. if anyone’s vag is sore, it’s not stoney’s.

    you may be asking yourselves, “why doesn’t he just edit the line out of the post then?” the answer is simple. editing is gay, and i’m not.


  1. 1 dreadlocks Trackback on May 21, 2007 at 4:22 pm

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