“About a year ago, the

feds nearly discovered Stroup’s stash in a suitcase he’d checked on a plane.

‘I had a few joints in an airtight thing inside a sock so you couldn’t see

it,’ he says. ‘I got back home and opened it up and there was this slip

saying, ‘We opened your bag, blah, blah blah.’ And my weed is a few inches

away! I said, ‘Man, that was too close!’ So I no longer carry anything when

I’m flying. If I’m going to be someplace for a few days, I ship myself a

‘care package.’ ‘

The next day Stroup calls, leaves a message on the voice mail. ‘Man, I was

totally goofy yesterday on that cold medicine,’ he says. ‘I hope I wasn’t

totally goofy in my responses. . . . I should have better sense than to do

an interview when I’m stoned out of my mind on cold medicine.’

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