Living at the Titz Carlton, your eyes become subjected to an immense amount of odd shit( Heavy foreshadowing). From I phone’s in the toilet to burning couches in the front yard, no sight ever ceased to amaze me. Yet, in the warm spring of 2013 I stumbled upon something extremely wicked, shockingly evil and vile. A Jenkem farm. For those of you unaware of the term “Jenkem” stick with the story and your whole world will be table topped upside down.

After a long, rigorous day of Comp 2, the time had come to celebrate, after all it was Thirsty Thursday and the Keys Bar and Grille was awaiting my arrival. Belly Boo, Beast and myself began roof drinking at the Titz around 2 that afternoon ready to defile ourselves for the night. If you read chapter 3, you’d know about Robert O’Doyle and the great RV of San Carlos Park. Now, the RV may have vanished without a trace but the enormous jungle that was directly adjacent to our house was still alive and well. Filled to the brim of weeds, vines, trees and an abundance of Titz Carlton trash; this was one of the largest forest in San Carlos Park. After a couple Natty Daddy’s (you guys remember those?) the Christopher Columbus adventured soul in me began to take fold.

Me- ” What do you think is in there?”

Beast- ” Probably All of the trash you’ve been stockpiling in there for months. seriously quit doing that shit.”

Me: ” Let’s find out.”

So, Ragnar Lodbrok the great conqueror and his fellow Vikings ventured into the realm that was the spooky San Carlos sanctuary, machetes in hand ready to face the unknown. As we whack-a-mole through the thistles and weeds, Beast was right, the amount of trash decaying in the heart of the woods was astonishing. I heard recently they tore down this great forest and I can only imagine the mountain of trash awaiting them.

AS we scurried through the forest, something caught our eye. It was a peanut butter jar- Peter Pan Brand. I was rather poor at the moment, so I scooped it up but something was different. Nay, this wasn’t any ordinary jar of Carver’s delicious grinded down peanuts. Something was inside of this jar. As we unscrewed the cap, we pulled out a large item wrapped in postal packaging held together with around 50 rubber bands. I just had recently watched the movie “Scarface” so my instincts told me, this was a brick of the Columbian white, cocaine. A drug dealer smuggling his narcotics in my neighborhood in my majestically forest of Narnia. I don’t think so Buster! D.A.R.E. The boys quickly eloped the woods with the brick of narcotic’s in hand and headed back to Helms Deep (the Titz)

For about an hour, we pondered what to do with it. Call the Cops? but what if the dealer catches wind and cuts our limbs off with a chainsaw. Belly Boo suggested, we should even see if it is drugs, after all, we didn’t have a Narcos K-9 to identify this foreign substance. I grabbed our one and only kitchen knife and began to cut into the middle of this brick. As I began to saw into this, a smell began to arise. The knife submerged into this package suddenly turned dark Brown.  Like an installment of the human centipede we all quickly realized what was in the package- Human poop. Befuddled and bewildered on why someone would take a poop into a package, carefully wrap it, disguise it as brick of cocaine and toss it in the Titz Calrton woods just so I could ruin my grandmother knife she gifted me was a mystery.

” I know what that is.” Belly Boo muttered. ” It’s Jenkem, the poor mans drug.”

Evidentially, Jenkem is where one defecates into a jar and allows it to ferment in the sun for weeks. Once the fermentation has been completed, one collects the jar, attaches a balloon to the top and huffs the fumes. Why Belly Boo knew this still alarms me to this day. Don’t believe me? Check out the horrific addiction below.

When the boys went to discard this utterly disgusting drug, we found about 10 more jars of this newly termed Jenkem. Like a damn pumpkin patch, someone was harvesting Jenkem in our woods. I have no words. This house is a frigging prison.

I’ve had some extremely lows living at the Titz Carlton but at least I can say I never huffed fumes of my only feces. Much more than some of you can say.

Anyways, stay tuned for next weeks chapter 7: Meet the Landlord AKA the Night King

Stay tuned also for our new Park Rat Tanks arriving next week. DM us to reserve yours now, last shirts sold out.


Written by Clarky