Dear John,

This is a simple one. I am such a nerd I do not know how to buy marijuana and the advise I get of “ask around” seems like me just asking to ask an undercover cop.

So how does someone unfamiliar with the illegal trade of controlled substance actually buy weed?


I'm sorry to say this, but I believe your problem is a bit deeper than an inability to lay your hands on some weed.

First: who are these people you're asking that are telling you to "ask around"? Co-workers? Neighbors? Bank tellers? Clerks at the grocery store where you shop?

Think about this: if you ask someone you trust, which I assume, given your concerns, is what you are doing, why would they tell you to "ask around"? If they smoke themselves, which nearly everyone does, wouldn't they simply offer you some of their stash, or at the very least, put you in contact with their dealer.

Am I at all wrong here?

It seems to me that maybe these people are not exactly the friends you think they are.

In any case .... doesn't matter. Not yet.

Now ... to solve the trivial aspect of your apparent problems: scoring weed.

Your concern about undercover cops is unfounded. No country on the planet, except North Korea, Thailand and a few other exotic places, is going to spend money trapping people trying to buy a bag of weed. Now ... if you're trying to score a few tons, or if you are actually trying to score a few keys cocaine or 10,000 hits of "E" ... well I would be giving you a different set of instructions, but I'm taking you at your word.

No-one is going to arrest you for trying to buy a bag of weed. So drop that concern.

I truly believe you could stand on a street corner with a cardboard sign proclaiming: "I want to buy weed" and no-one would molest you other than the line if dealers trying to overcharge you for their wares.

But let's get back to your "friends" who told you to ask around. I'm not liking them one bit.

Before you carry the sign into the street, let's try this:

Walk up to each in turn and say:

"Listen you fucking cunt .. I talked to John McAfee and he said you were fucking with me. That pissed me off. I may look like a fucking nerd but when I get mad - once ever 2 or three years - I go fucking crazy.

After John told me this I got so angry I bit the head off of my landlord's cat.

It didn't fucking satisfy me. Not one bit.

Ask me if I'm mad now. Please! Jusk fucking ask me. Please ask me. God Dammit ask me!!!! Ask me you fucking prickl!!!!

(They will likely not ask you. You may continue) ....

So now ... Sell me whatever stash you have handy - at a reasonable fucking price, or I swear to God I will rip off your head, here and now, and shit down your fucking neck."

Ad lib here and there as necessary, but try to maintain the momentum of the tone. I suspect you will have enough weed in your pocket, after you have appropriately addressed everyone in the office, to get a good buzz on.

If, in the unlikely event that the above is unsuccessful, grab a magic marker and a piece of cardboard and head to the street.

John Mcafee


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I think the problem, to be quite honest with you, is that you've never actually known what the question is

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