On April 10, two brothers from Moon were charged with smuggling pot. The operation was not run out of dinky dorm rooms, either. U.S. Attorney Rodger Heaton of Illinois charged Noah Landfried, 24, and Ross Landfried, 27, with bringing more than a ton of weed into the United States from Mexico, and selling it. The pot, the feds say, reached the streets via their family home in Moon, where the Landfrieds allegedly broke down their shipments into convenient, one-pound blocks for distribution. [continues 356 words]
When Robert Korbe was arrested during a countywide drug sweep on Nov. 19, the list of charges facing the 39-year-old Indiana Township man was impressive. Korbe, after all, is something of a one-man crime wave with a mug that resembles human brick Ben Grimm from the old Fantastic Four comic books. Korbe proved as tough as his looks when he brawled with 10 or so police officers from several departments in the middle of Main Street in Sharpsburg after leading them on a high-speed chase in May. [continues 419 words]
Long-time marijuana users say the drug can make smokers stupid, which always seemed to me like silly, anti-drug hysteria. But after watching a group of kids smoke pot last weekend at Point State Park, I'm not so sure. Breaking several of my middle-aged entertainment rules at once, I actually bothered to a.) leave the house on a week night, and b.) do so to attend a rock concert. After watching literally hundreds of bands during my 20s, I now tend to find the atmosphere, if you can call it that, at large concerts just slightly more bearable than a weekend with the in-laws. [continues 327 words]
There's barely enough light to see your way around the empty room at 2537 Perrysville Ave. in the North Side, but a glance is enough. This former convenience store has become the hangout of drug dealers and street gangs, locals say, and evidence of nightly visits to the place isn't hard to find. Tiny plastic bags used to store small amounts of cocaine and crack flutter in the breeze, while empty malt liquor bottles and potato chip bags crunch underfoot. The drywall and ceiling tiles have been torn away in many places, and dirty yellow fiberglass insulation has been ripped apart by folks looking for drugs or money they hoped was left behind by the building's owner, convicted cocaine kingpin Oliver Beasley of Penn Hills. [continues 409 words]
Pittsburgh generally trails the rest of the country when it comes to pop culture trends, but we're leading the way when it comes to hip-hop related violence. Last week, a gunman fatally shot Shelton Flowers, 30, of Wilkinsburg, inside the Loews Theater at the Waterfront in Homestead. Flowers was there to watch the movie "Get Rich or Die Tryin'," a fable about fabled gangster and rap music icon Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson. So had a trio of other young black men, with whom Flowers got into an argument. [continues 411 words]
Howard Wooldridge rode into town last weekend on his horse, just like a lawman from the Old West. But the former detective didn't visit Pittsburgh to lock up bad guys. He was here to lecture on what he feels is the biggest fraud ever perpetrated on the American public. "After 15 years in law enforcement, I realized what incredible waste the war on drugs really is. I was arresting drunk drivers who were a real danger, while my colleagues were going after kids with Baggies full of pot. It didn't make any sense," Wooldridge said. [continues 427 words]
"I believe in the near future, the government will use anti-drug hysteria to set up a police state" -- author William S. Burroughs, 1947. Shoppers on the city's trendy South Side can still, if they wish, drop into a store and buy drug paraphernalia. Inventive stoners can head to the produce aisle at the Wharton Square Giant Eagle supermarket and buy an apple or a carrot, both of which can be hollowed out for pot smoking. Or they could try the sundries aisle where there's all sorts of emergency smoking supplies --- from empty toilet paper rolls to aluminum foil. [continues 484 words]
There are few icons as widely admired by pot smokers as High Times magazine. Sure, there still are stoners who chuckle at the very mention of certain Cheech and Chong routines, and there are people so fogged by cannabis haze that they even get those arcane references to exotic marijuana on Bob Marley albums. But High Times, with its pseudo- serious political reporting and clever marketing of an illegal substance, is the devoted weedman's bible. Pittsburgher Randy Prezkopf is more than a little familiar with the glossy New York monthly. He'd read about the endless movements to legalize marijuana and studied the magazine's weird centerfold photos of rare plant types. Prezkopf eventually opened Slacker, a South Side lifestyle boutique that specialized in things for the glassy-eyed. [continues 407 words]
Tolerating sales pitches from drug dealers is just one of the byproducts of spending too much time in bars. Typical of any unplanned shopping trip, these guys never seem to sell what you need: Tylenol PM would be nice, or maybe a strong, 12-hour antacid in tablet form. Instead, at least once a week, some furtive-looking soul shoulders up and mutters a coded sales pitch for a cheap high. Most recently, the usual pitches "Yo, got that good herb" (for pot) and "white lady in the house" (cocaine) have been replaced by offers to "go tweakin'." [continues 487 words]
