Smuggling weed is easy
Jan 20 2009
It's lucky airport security are so shit because Rockwell is the kind of smoker who can't bare to fly without weed.
Every time I travel by plane to another country I always have weed on me. Gothenburg, Dublin, Barcelona, Malaga, Edinburgh and Narita, Japan. I don't mean like kilos of the shit, but enough to know that I'm not going to even go a single day without weed in a foreign country that I wouldn’t be able to pick up in. The only two places I've not smuggled weed into are JFK and Bangkok. JFK because I was there on work and knew I could get weed in NY and Bangkok because I didn't want my hands chopped off or whatever. Oh wait, that's a lie. I did bring some weed to Bangkok I think, just a little though.
Aside from the comfort of having weed at your destination I guess there is also a bit of a rush going through security with up to half an ounce tightly wrapped, sprayed and taped to the inside of your boxers. The trick is to compress the weed as much as possible, wrap it in cling film, spray with deodorant or aftershave, wrap again, spray again, then wrap in tape tightly, (preferably masking tape as its paper exterior doesn't really rustle or have any sharp edges). Once it’s well cocooned, tape it to the inside of your boxers about an inch down from the middle of the waistline. That way when you put your jeans on it's kind of below your belt buckle and above your dick. That's a total no-go zone for customs officers.
Make sure you have a belt that doesn't set off the metal detector. I’ve no idea how you find that out, some do, some don't, but I guess one made of hay is less likely to than one made of bullets. What you don’t want is to be body-searched, because despite your planning, all those years of dope smoke will conjure a paranoid, phantasmagorical cloud of dope and you’ll get convinced you’re going to prison for life. Try not to freak out though, they'll only find it if you get strip-searched. Once a guy ran his fingers around the top of my belt and I swear I felt his fingers buckle on the top of the package but he then waved me through. I said then I'd never do it again, but hey.
In retrospect I think traveling to Tokyo with three different strains of weed a bit of a risk really. I didn't have much, maybe 3 or so grammes; some Thai, some normal skunk and this Jamaican sensimilla that was the best weed I ever smoked. I had saved this shit especially for Japan. I was there for the World Cup and I wanted to be there. Like on the fucking bench there. Anyway, I got through Dublin fine and Paris as well. About four or five hours of restlessness into the flight though I had an anxiety attack or something and was like, “What the fuck am I doing?!? This is Japan! McCartney only got off on a pardon from the fucking government or something!” So I went to the jacks to flush it: “I'm definitely flushing it fuck it. It's only a bit of weed, I'm with my dad, if he finds out he'll fucking flip out.” So I paused Ali, or whatever movie they were showing in 2002, went to the toilet, dropped my boxers and was like, “Hold on a sec, this is a bad move.” I spent about ten minutes talking myself in-and-out of doing it then finally I just said to myself, “Fuck it, fuck them if they can't take a joke'.
This next bit I remember clear as if it happened yesterday. We went through customs and got our passports stamped. But, before we got to leave we had our baggage checked. That’s cool, it's in my boxers isn't it you dickheads? But they had it very well choreographed. There were about eight checkpoints, each had one had an inspector and behind him, a guy on the door who looked like something out of the fucking A-Team. His role was maybe to detect any odd behaviour from people holding illegal substances, like me. My dad was just ahead of me, but by this point I was fucking retarded; tired, disorientated and now a bit prang. My dad turns to me and says, “Hey, you got any contraband on you?”, I'm like, “Er, yep, you?' He turns to me and says, “Sure.” We got to the front of the queue and the guy looked at us, and then pulled out this massive flashcard. It was covered in all types of gnarly mushrooms, “Got any of these in you luggage?” he asked. Man, I almost fucking wet myself while shaking my head. They looked in our bags and off we went, weed in my boxers and hash in my dad's Johnny-pocket.
Recently though I've been more reluctant about taking a lot of weed with me as there are sniffer dogs at a few airports. But, to be honest I'll always have that cheeky gramme or two hidden away, ready to be puffed in a non-smoking hotel-room with a wet towel at the bottom of the door and the air-con on full. Really, taking personal amounts of weed through customs is fine if you know what you're doing, just don't try bringing back a 100 grammes from Amsterdam in your luggage. Even if it is vacuum packed.