I've got a close friend who is one of the last remaining original hippies from the Ken Kesey days. He has a box he wants to sell me. In the box are all the things you used to be able to buy mail order from chemical companies. And some of the more industrious hippies purchased a lot of this stuff mail order and set up ... umm ... businesses. Making ... consumables ... that people like the Grateful Dead highly praised ... Welp. This box is from them. Contains all that, and more. And has the name and address of someone that pretty much everyone alive today would recognize. This thing is a fucking national treasure ... if it weren't so goddamn hot and illegal and just possessing the contents would put you on every watchlist for every three-letter agency, who'd just assume throw you behind bars and take the stuff out and sample it to track strains and compositions that still circulate today. But man... I want that box.