Fruitless Shrubs and Nightcrawlers

Some things just never produce anything useful.

Even a freaking lowly earthworm can pinch a loaf that has a positive benefit.

Take the whole pot growing deal for example and let's contrast and compare the earthworm to the efforts of the growers.

Hey! Shut the damn door!

Big growers like Don, John, Tom, Dick and Harry make as though they are gonna squeeze off something tangible every time they show up to see the Soup.

They drop their drawers and talk your ear off but all they ever really do is 'file a motion' without completing the agreed upon deal.

Sometimes it looks like they're trying but all they can seem to manage is to fart and clear the room.

I knew a guy that used to think that was funny until the time he did it in a closed up car on a hot day and turned his pants into a strainer.

The big growers don't really want to actually fertilize the situation with anything that could be useful since they know that would mean they'd have to follow some rules so everytime it looks like somebody is gonna make some rules they make sure to show up with all the pachouli reeking dirtbags they can find to stand behind in case the shooting starts.

Then you got your earthworm. Earthworms dont stink like pachouli oil and they can stand by their decisions like the took the advice of that county dude Coal. He says decisions should be decisivecisions or something and the spelunkers couldn't agree more even if we don't know what that means.

Maybe the Waffler knows.

Big growers know that if a decisivecision happens their gonna have to follow some rules and it's gonna change the way they get to spend their dough and that's not a decisivecision they can really get behind.

They'd have to let Unc Sam know where the beamer and the house come from so they show up at all the meetings to make sure nothing actually gets done. Like filling potholes or whatever.

Then you got the earthworm burrowing along minding its own business and poopin' out some serious product that's probably even legal with the federal government.

If the fed could criminalize number two it probably would but the earthworm crawls around in that gray area of the law and gets all the credit and profit for what it's doing because of lack of government oversight.

I suppose if the g-people would get their act together they'd impose some regulations on earthworms and tax 'em til it hurt. 

The other cool thing an earthworm can do is fishing but these local asswipe growers can't seem to produce anything that isn't toxic. Which reminds me, just the other day I found out there's some kinda forest beastie called the fisher that the growers are killing.

So they aren't just not producing stuff, they are killing stuff I've never even heard of - like the fisher.

Keep out, dangerous peach.

I guess thats worse than one of those stupid ornamental fruit trees. Those Peach Surprise Cocktails you were looking forward to never happened after you spent all that time growing 99 peach trees on that empty lot you own.

But it ain't because the DEA ripped em out.

Surprise - no freaking peaches on ornamental peach trees so you wind up getting soused on rum and tripping over those sacks of potting soil you never did remember to put away.

Flailing around trying to combat the nastier side effects of gravity with your head sailing right into the trunk of one of those stupid fruitless wonders you think to yourself 'at least these stupid peach trees didn't kill the neighborhood pets.'

Who goes fishing in the forest anyway?

Supposedly it's some kinda rat and I haven't got a clue why they call it a fisher but nobody asked me when they were naming it. If they had I'd probably name it Merrill since that's some kinda rat too.

Pricklier Kinda Love

Ain't love grand?

So much love in the air these days. That relocated BOS meeting was just oozing love and people kept saying one love or something to bring it home. At one point the passion was almost too much for a couple of the more amorous types who almost got carried away with the passion.

Get any on ya?

Maybe it was the crowd or being in sexy old Fritch hall where the goat smell isn't so strong.

Maybe it's Rainbird's stylish hair donut on top of his coif but whatever it was Rainbird and Pineapple Boy just about couldn't keep their hands off each other. Some said it looked more like a fight but if the spelunkers know about anything its about mating rituals and that was the real deal.

Those two have such a crush on each other they locked eyes, gazed at each other and nearly lost themselves in the throes of passionate embrace right there in front of god and everyone.

I guess they were just so excited about the idea that the BOS were planning on letting them grow some plants or maybe it was because they were planning to file an injunction against the permission that their buddy Don Merrill the pot delivery boy had help craft.

I was a little bit confused about why Merrill would spend all that time going to those cultivation meeting deals only to sue when he got what he wanted but that's why I don't smoke today's blends. They really mess up your head.

I guess Merril just can't be happy anymore regardless of what happens. If he loses he's mad and if he wins he's mad. At least he's got plenty of resources to hire expensive lawyers when he wins so he can pretend he lost and that's why he sues.

We started thinking about what else might have happened and we went back to the beginning when the county did that first ordinance got passed and Merrill emerged onto the scene to help somebody else spend a bunch of money to make the soup not give permission to grow.

In those days they were saying that getting permission to grow was draconian. I looked that word up because it sounds pretty dang cool.

I'm Draconian!

And it is. It comes from a guy named Draco from a long time ago. Apparently Draco was so well liked that his supporters threw a bunch of hats, shirts and cloaks on his head that he suffocated, died and got buried where he fell. Kinda like Don Merrill did.

I'm not really sure how that relates to getting permission to grow pot but what the hell because Merrill's own Council of Four Hundred showed up to the meeting to explain how they should be able to grow as much weed as they want since they are stressed out. Hell, I'd be stressed out too if I had fifty plants in my yard that all the other scumbags wanted. I'd be so stressed I'd set up cameras and trip wires and unleash my hounds from hell to guard the stuff.

That is stressful stuff so I'd definitely want to smoke a bunch of weed to help me calm down so I didn't stumble into my own tripwires or get bit by one of the hellhounds when they weren't busy dry humping each other like Pineapple boy and Rainbird.

The False and the Furious

Ever watch some kid get caught in a lie? Its one of my favorite things since it just brings back all those warm childhood memories and the taste of cheap soap.

That's not cherry flavor!

Mom always stocked up when it was on sale.

Everything can seem like its going along just great then when you question whether that kid actually 'found' whatever it was that they were showing off they get all flustered and if you don't ease up on the truthiness they get furious.

I'm guessing francis' mom didn't buy soap wholesale like they did in my family.

Still mirthin' it baby!

Its kinda like that with our own despicable and vindictive conman francis. Okay, I didn't coin that one, that came from the Mayor of Mirthy-ness who just held his own confident-ness vote thing.

That Mayor guy didn't really come by it on his own either since the soup were already inviting revelers and truth seekers to their own cremation of confident-ness deal but got sidetracked by another one of francis' asswipe stunts.

I guess it all goes back to when francis was born. Or maybe he was a cute little tyke like most are. Could be it started with his first arrest or maybe his second. Whatever it is it all got rolling solid after he applied those skills he picked up getting arrested to transform himself like some bleary, directionless cocoon devoid of a moral compass into a law-man.

Most cocoons unleash beautiful and fascinating things into the world, except those f'd up killer clown cocoons like the one francis popped out of.


Everything was going along just great till francis quit going to work I suppose. Then when people started asking after him he clammed up like a steroid laced pit bull with his jaws locked on a campaign of transparency and started hurling out legal threats and lots of other tooth gnashing designed to change the subject.

What was the subject anyways?

Oh right, the cremation of confident-ness. That's what official people do when they quit believing stuff some other people say. The soup get so many telegraphs telling em how folks don't trust somebody anymore so they take away the confident-ness or something and that tells other people that something isn't on the level anymore.

Only this time most folks already knew nothing was on the level in the first place before the Poobah ascended to the royal throne of top law enforcement in the world or something so the other folks who decided to give the benefit of the doubt to the guy are falling off one by one under the withering fire of the truthiness crowd who knew the score in the first place.

Its all just pissed francis off royally.