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Search Results: golden gate park (14)

Safe Access: If A Cannabis Patient Is Cut Down Mid-Disease, Does Anyone Hear It?

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By on Culture, Dispensaries, Medical

death + taxes

​By Jack Rikess
Toke of the Town
Northern California Correspondent
Resonate
res·o·nate/ˈrezəˌnāt/
Verb:  1. Produce or be filled with a deep, full, reverberating sound.
         2. Evoke or suggest images, memories, and emotions.
Picture the State of California in your mind. Now imagine the Attorney General taking a pair of Federal scissors and cutting along the dotted line below and above California’s largest city, leaving Los Angeles as an island. Not content to stop there, Cali’s Top Law Dog is now on a serrated blood trail with Federal Fiskars in hand.
She continues undercutting the will of the People by lopping off areas of California like a mad child decapitating paper dolls. Soon, if she has her way, all of California’s dispensaries will be gone.
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Crackdown: Cali Marijuana Dispensaries Turning To Delivery

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By on Dispensaries, News

WeedMaps
Online dispensary locator WeedMaps shows a plethora of medical marijuana delivery services available in Los Angeles

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A growing trend in California’s billion-dollar medical marijuana industry — which has recently come under attack from the federal government — is the presence of delivery-only dispensaries to deal with an legal environment that is increasingly precarious for storefronts.

Threats of property forfeiture against landlords, lawsuits and raids have made brick-and-mortor locations less attractive to the collectives, reports David Downs at the San Francisco Chronicle.

“When you have a storefront, you’re on the map,” said Oakland defense attorney William G. Panzer, who represents recently raided Northstone Organics, a delivery service based in Ukiah, Mendocino County in the heart of the Emerald Triangle. “You don’t have those issues with a delivery service. No one’s going to know about it.”
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A Cannabis Christmas Wish… A Marijuana Chanukah Hint

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By on Dispensaries, News
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Sarah Rice/SFGate
Lynnette Shaw ran Marin Alliance for Medical Marijuana — the first in the state to be licensed, back in 1997. Now the Feds have shut it down.

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By Jack Rikess
Toke of the Town
Northern California Correspondent
It’s really easy these days to be negative about cannabis. The Feds are waving their guns around like old-time Western town bullies. Playing with the tin-horns and the dandy Easterners alike, making them dance to a tune that we thought was long gone.
They sit outside protecting the saloon, leaning  back in their chairs, keeping the weak and poor in the sight of their weapons, not necessarily to shoot them, just scare ’em a little.
 
In the Golden State, where it must seem that progress burns bright, I mean, how can you complain when you can have your medicine, including edibles and anything else that’s on the menu delivered right to your door? What in the world could those spoiled Californians have to gripe about?
How about the closing of Lynnette Shaw’s Marin Alliance for Medical Marijuana dispensary in Fairfax?  As most know by now, Lynnette’s dispensary was the first to be licensed in California back in ’97. The closure of this landmark is incredibly distressing. 
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The Marijuana Business: No Pictures Please, I Got A Family Here

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By on Culture, Growing

Mother Jones

​​By Jack Rikess
Toke of the Town
Northern California Correspondent

​The man under the faded Giants cap wiped his forehead again for about the thousandth time. It was hot and it was late. Harvey should have been here 30 minutes ago. 
The duffle bag in the back of his ancient Charger ticked like a tell-tale bud wanting to get out. The man wanted to go. He had pressing business at 2:30 that he couldn’t be late for. Then there was this other guy to hook-up with. 
His long mane fell out of the cap as he ran his hand through that swamp of molted hair looking for dust on the horizon. It was a little before 2 and the temperature was deep into the red. 
Between the LB’s in the trunk, the Charger’s engine actually ticking under the midday sun, and the clock in his head counting off like a nasty verbal egg timer telling him he needs to get moving if he wants to make his hook-up and his 2:30, he was getting nervous — for a man who doesn’t get nervous. The man would have started pacing if it wouldn’t have looked too suspicious. 
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