Holy shit!!!!

This is video is fucking awesome. Makes me want to huff some lung butter myself. Good thing I got a nice tight balloon right here.
Doctor

Good morning lung butter aficionados! I have just rappelled down from the Energor step, completing two days in a row of the rare pre-coffee adventures very near the summit of Mt Kohler. Today is an exciting day as I should be able to do a little riding for only the second time since my crash. As you may know, I went for a little ride friday, but since then it has been raining all day everyday. The main reason for my excitement is that I will be able to continue trying to make contact with the Zambians in the woods by my house. I know they are still out there, and I intend to infiltrate their tribe, mate with their women, and find out more about their jenkem smuggling operation. I will also attempt to educate them on the finer points of jenkem brewing.

In the wake of my crash and the torrential rain we have had, I have had way to much time on my hands. I was inspired by the story of a man left for dead in the Death Zone on Everest to write about the death zone on Mt Kohler. During my research I discovered this article about celebrities who have perished in the Death Zone on Mt Kohler :Died atop Mt Kohler. I was compelled to leave a comment in the hopes of eventually hijacking this website, until the proprietor left a comment of his own. I have now shifted my focus to getting him to start commenting here. In a way, my new mission makes me like the Jenkem Jesus, slowly converting souls to the dark side.

Lately, I have been having some pretty terrible nightmares. Mostly consisting of images like this:

and, of course, this:

Hopefully it doesn't mean anything, but it sure looks like they are intent on fisting somebody. Hopefully this is not what happened to our friend Mr. Kleinman. It has been sometime since we have heard from him and I am beginning to fear the worst.

To leave your mind on an easy note, a song. This one adapted from Peter Rowan's Free Mexican Airforce.

In the Lusakan Mountains Zambians are pooping in fields
Where Lord Energor rides a horse that can still out run the wheel
High in the sky above, and clear out of sight
It's the free Zambian airforce flying tonight

Way up in Lusaka Chief Chisunka is cooling his heels
Remembering Energor gave us turds and balloons in the fields
But a criminal law that makes outlaws of those seeking light
Make the Free Zambian Airforce
Energor riding his white horse
The free Zambian Airforce is flying tonight

Flying so high aye aye ya ya ya heeee ha ha

How strange an innocent turd causes my lungs to burn
It sat in a bottle till the balloon top was nice and firm
Nothing can stop us, my vision is clearly in sight
And the free Zambian airforce is flying tonight

While we're huffing balloons federales are loading their guns
blowing smoke from their six shooters spilling our bottles for fun
jenkem gas bastards banditos of light
Make the free Zambian Airforce
Energor riding his white horse
The free Zambian Airforce is flying tonight

flying so high aye aye huh ack hack ack
The free Zambian Airforce is flying tonight!

Fuck you and may Energor bring you the peace that passes understanding,
Doctor

Thoughts From The Balloon

We last discussed the source of supply and the importance food and facilities can have on your ability to produce some grade A butter, now we will expand on that previous discourse and help you understand the role of food in other aspects of brew mastering.

Currently our labs in Prescott are testing a little known theorem that the great Einstein penned right before proving E=MC2. This theorem holds that surface area plays a key role in both the speed and complexity of the high.

The Green Apple Splatter clan say that the fine, milky spray that accompanies a good bout of diarrhea provides the maximum surface area ensuring an even disbursement of urine. This allows the jenkem to brew more evenly and faster. Much like a beaker is the best friend of a Meth Chef, the crucible of choice for GAS is the ships decanter.

You can see from the massive surface area when the sun is beating is baby really cooks it up. An additional benefit is the wide mouth that allows larger balloons for group huff parties.
On the other side of the toilet there are the Loggers, who stand firm that a well formed log provides a dense base material that has been well aged in the proper temperature found only in the deepest regions of the upper colon. This ensures a rich nutty aroma packed with minerals and serves up the choicest jenkem when aged only in the afternoon sun. They further claim that the pre liquefied source material used by the GSAs is actually diluted down and produces a heavy on vapor and bouquet but weak on buzz.
With this I have to head out to the cooking shed and sample some of each and report back to you later. 

A Reading From the Gospel of Energor, Book of Penises

Chapter 666

"And Energor spake, and he did command that those who huff fermented turd-gas shall achieve enlightenment. And only through huffing fermented turd-gas shall it even be possible to achieve enlightenment. As he looked upon his creation, he saw the nation of Japan, and in his disgust, said "You're doing it wrong. Turds are not for eating, but for collecting the gas that emanates from within." And with a wave of his magic staff, he bestowed a terrible economy and falling birth-rates upon the nation of Japan."

Amen.


Doctor, these Zambian children running through the Prescott wilderness is exciting news. I think that there should be an attempt to meet them - understand them - and soon, mate with their women to create an incredible new hybrid race of American-Zambians that can infuse the passion that they bring to their craft of riding atop the brown dragon, and add an American's ruthless business sense to the mix - we'll be millionaires. Or at least, really fucking high.

Urrrbody get fucked

Casey Fucking Ryback

Purple Assed Baboon!

Since the first photos of my plumber's crack went over so well, and since it has changed hues dramatically, I thought I would post a couple more. My ass turned this color sometime between Sunday morning and my chiropractor appointment Monday morning. I almost postponed my appointment, but I am glad I didn't. He did some Mr. Miyagi shit to me and I am feeling a lot less soreness today. He is the first one to notice the amazing purple color. Oddly enough I am only really sore on my side, around my beautifully swollen kidney area, and in the greenish area just above my purple crack. It really is pretty amazing that I didn't fracture my tailbone.

In other news, I have had three cups of coffee already this morning, and have not produced any jenkem ingredients. I am now enjoying a three shot americano and some rumbling sensations are starting to occur, along with  some gaseous out bursts that are frankly quite frightening in odor. I may be in for a wild ride atop the Energor step, very close to the summit of Mt Kohler. I had Huevos Rancheros for lunch yesterday, followed by baked ziti for dinner. I am hoping this combination produces something worthy of cellaring. I should do pretty well in the volume department anyway.

Energor Speed
Doctor

How could this happen right under my nose?

I have made a shocking discovery. There is definitely a connection between Prescott, AZ and Zambia, and the whole thing has been going on without my knowledge. As you know I have been harboring suspicions for a while, and on top of seeing evidence trail side, I even met one of the street children on thursday morning after my crash. As I am still not quite able to ride, I have not had a chance to follow up and make contact with the street child, but I have been able to read the newspaper. Imagine the size of the turd I let loose in my drawers when I saw this headline:

Prescott man calls mud hut home while on Peace Corps humanitarian mission in Africa

The article begins: Prescott resident David Berger is educating people in Zambia about hygiene and healthcare while living in a mud-brick hut with a grass thatch roof.

It is accompanied by this picture:


  Courtesy photo
David Berger, from left, a Peace Corps volunteer in Zambia from Prescott; U.S. Ambassador to Zambia Mark C. Storella; and His Royal Highness Chief Chisunka inspect the modifications Berger made to the chief’s hut. 

  How the fuck could this happen without me knowing about it. I kid you not, I spent a half hour cleaning shit off of myself and the couch, of course bottling it for later. The crazy part is that this guy is a customer at the shop.  Of course I was shocked to see this, but I was also a little hurt. He didn't even offer to bring me to Zambia. Maybe I wanted to hangout with Chief Chisunka, huffing jenkem with the ambassador, hitting all the cool sewage ponds. I felt a little betrayed. Then it occurred to me, he doesn't know that I am on jenkem. I assumed that everyone can tell I am always riding the brown dragon. I am always worried that I look like I am too high at the shop. Apparently I am keeping it together pretty well. He must think that I just have horrible breath all the time.

I believe that this David Berger character has something to do with the Zambian street children showing up in Prescott all of a sudden. I can't decide if it is a human trafficking ring or a jenkem smuggling operation. What is Ambassador Storella's role in all of this. One thing can be told for certain; judging from the photo Cheif Chisunka is a man capable of producing some fine jenkem ingredients.
More on this breaking story as it unfolds.
Doctor                                                      

Upper Decker Here I Come!!!!!

The silver lining to my crash is all the spare time I have to translate scrolls and huff jenkem. In my enlightened state I have come to focus most of my energy on one thing: The Upper Decker. For those of us who only look at the pictures when reading:




this will result in this:
As you may know I have vowed to perform and upper decker before the year is out. I am very excited about this for obvious reasons, the most important one being that it is fucking hilarious. I am still up in the air as to location. This is a key decision. As I have mentioned previously, I would prefer to target an individual as opposed to a random public place, but this will be difficult. Someone you would like to upper deck isn't  necessarily going to have you over for tea and crumpets. I will remain vigilant, an opportunity shall arise and I will be there to act. Hopefully I have my camera so as to provide excellent photographic evidence such as the pictures above. I do believe these photos to be from two separate upper deckings, which for some reason makes it even funnier. I doubt the victim views it this way, but the perpetrator actually has done them a favor, providing them with their own perpetual jenkem hotbox. One man's shit is another man's gold.

In other news, the illustrious C"rot"ch Ryback has been spotted at the new Roman style bath house in Jefferson City, MO. My sources confirm that he arrived in a limo with Criss Angel and a team from RedWheel Cycles, a local Jeff City Bike shop. They entered the bath house many days ago and have not been seen since, although several lotion delivery trucks have come and gone. No pun intended. I fear that our C"rot"ch is being mannippleated (again, no pun intended) by Criss Angel who likely found Crotch in the midst of a jenkem trance and took advantage of his inebriated state. If you live in the Missouri area and have some spare time, please swing by the bath house and tell Croatch that we are in desperate need of a duty report. It is only fair to warn who ever accepts this mission that you will be entering an environment of extreme danger and naked men. You might want to double up on the underpants.

Thanks and Get Totally Fucked (but not by Criss Angel)
Doctor

Ouch! Oh well, I guess I'll just sit around and huff jenkem all day!!!!!!

As you can see from this photo, not only am I a hairy samsquantch monster, I am also a little beat up. I had a little bit of a crash on my way to work yesterday. I know what you're thinking. High on the brown dragon, and you would be correct. The barnyard jenkem I mentioned yesterday turned out to be a little more potent than I thought. My ride to work consists largely of a downhill trail frequented by dirt bikes. It is very rocky and the dirt bikes tend to move the rocks around, so it is a little different every time I go down it. I managed to get bounced off of my line by a rather large rock that the jenkem goggles kept from my vision. I then lost control and was bouncing from rock to rock trying to get it back until the bike went sideways and catapulted me down the trail. Ouch! Note the swelling around my left kidney. Needless to say, the crash killed my buzz.

I got up and began looking for javelina or squirrel turds to get my buzz going again when I made a shocking discovery. Crouched behind a bush was a little Zambian boy who had witnessed the whole thing. Once he realized I had spotted him slowly stood up and extended his arm towards me. Lo and behold, in his hand was a gatorade bottle with a balloon on it. Praise Energor.

As you may already know, I have recently seen several signs of a possible Zambian presence here in the Prescott National Forest. Balloons on the side of the trail, Foul smelling bottles containing a brown liquid. There was also an incident downtown where someone broke into an art gallery, took a hundred dollars, and shit on the floor. Clearly the work of Zambian street children if you ask me.

As I moved toward the boy, he extended the bottle to me and made a deep breathing gesture. I took the bottle, removed the balloon and breathed the gasses in deep. Immediately the pain subsided, my eyes went glassy, and a wave of euphoria washed over me. Dead relatives voices swirled in my mind. The jenkem had a pungent, gassy flavor, with hints of pine cone and coyote. As I settled into my high, I thanked the child and handed the bottle back to him. He nodded, and then disappeared back into the woods.

Their encampment must be very near the trail I take to work. Once I am able to ride again, hopefully in a day or two, I will find their lair and repay the boy with a special blend I have had in my cellar for over a year. I know he is not alone out there in the woods. There are certainly more Zambian street children out there with him. Once I find them I will try to find out how they got here, as well as help them improve their jenkem techniques. As for today, I am off work and will be huffing the lung butter for the rest of the day. Maybe in my enlightened state the great Energor will reveal another song to me, or provide me with some other insight into mysteries of life and jenkem. Until then, if you would please remove your pants, and mini van yourself very thoroughly.
Doctor

Jenkem from J To M

My word the activity has been fierce in the comments, not quite as fierce as the action in AZ, but with such activity we felt it was time to enhance the education levels of our astute readers. We will begin our series of lectures on jenkem from j to m as we bring you up to speed on the latest in harvesting, brewmaster skills, correct huffing techniques and a dissertation on the interpretation of your hallucinations.
A key element in producing various strains of jenkem begins with the very source of your supply. This is akin to growing a crop of ditch weed or a crop of wicked hydro. The Zambian youth of Lusaka, due to the limited food supply/choices, opt for the ditch weed brew by scouring the open sewers of the city.

While some of finest jenkem from the midwest is rumored to come from the pristine facilities of the deep Ozarks where the cuisine can range from Dos Primos to the infamous Jerkward Braquito.

At this point it's time for you readers to take a great big huff and think about the concepts we are being to explore. Crafting a batch of jenkem is not just as simple as stuffing a bunch of shit in a bottle, pissing you PBR into it and letting it cook like a batch of sun tea. No in our next discussion we will expand on the subject matter of solid waste selection and delve into the world of seasoning your brew.

The Ultimate Endorsement

Need I say moar....

Opportunity To Make A Difference

Reach deep into your pockets, fogo that cold beer tonight and find the heart to save a young Zambian child from the ravages of Jenkem.

Send your donations to:

Save the Zambians
P.O. Box 750ml
Criss Angel Lane
Lung Butter, Texas 60843

Jenkem 101 - A Beginners Guide To The Brown Lung Butter

Welcome oh great huffers of the brown lung butter. Yes you now have the opportunity to share in the knowledge of perhaps the most creative minds east of Zambia. We would like to provide some insight into the history of jenkem.

At the Lusaka sewage ponds, two teenage boys plunge their hands into the dark brown sludge, gathering up fistfuls and stuffing it into small plastic bottles. They tap the bottles on the ground, taking care to leave enough room for methane to form at the top. A sour smell rises in the hot sun, but the boys seem oblivious to the stench and the foul nature of their task.

They are manufacturing "Jenkem", a disgusting, noxious mixture made from fermented sewage. It is cheap, potent and very popular among the thousands of street-children in Lusaka. When they cannot afford glue or are too scared to steal petrol, these youngsters turn to Jenkem as a way of getting high.
"It lasts about an hour", says one user, 16-year-old Luke Mpande, who prefers Jenkem to other substances.
"With glue, I just hear voices in my head. But with Jenkem, I see visions. I see my mother who is dead and I forget about the problems in my life."
Symptom of poverty
Sniffing sewage is a symptom of the desperate plight of Zambia's street-children. There are thought to be some 75,000 in the country as a whole - a number that has doubled in the past eight years.

With the Aids epidemic affecting an estimated one in four adults in urban areas, and the government's harsh privatisation policies throwing thousands out of work, it is the children who have suffered the most.
Sikwanda Makono is an education specialist at the Ministry of Health. "Now that the economy is going down, we see more and more of our younger boys going into the streets.
"And girls too. If you drive around at night, you see very young girls looking for men, to merely get something to survive."
Abandoned

The children can also no longer rely on the extended family, once the backbone of African life. This traditional safety net is now on the verge of collapse.
Children are sent out onto the streets to earn a living, or treated cruelly by relatives already struggling to support their own families, or simply abandoned by parents, who cannot afford to feed and clothe them.
Victor Chinyama of the United Nations Children's Fund in Lusaka says it is imperative that the Zambian government gets to grips with this problem.
"So far, one doesn't get the feeling that this has been recognised as priority, or as a problem that needs to be nipped in the bud," he says.
"This problem is on the rise and the sooner it is dealt with, the better."
Temporary respite
Substance-abuse offers a temporary respite in an otherwise harsh world.
Nobody knows exactly where the idea for making Jenkem came from, but it has been used by street-children in Lusaka for at least two years. Nason Banda of the Drug Enforcement Agency is not proud when he says that it is unique to Zambia. He shudders when he sees the boys at the sewage ponds, scavenging for faecal matter to make Jenkem.
"It's unimaginable" he says. "It hits right at the heart to see a human being coming down a level, to be able to dip his hand into a sewage pond, picking out the material and not caring about anything but the feeling of getting high."