aka, Green and Yellow and the Red Balloon |
This is a follow up to the post of October 20, 2010, where I surmised the beginning of a new illegal business by Lyin' Lynda, Resectioned Red, and Cork-Screwed.)
The Barefoot Dirty Girls were busy this weekend - but not moving. As I predicted, the scenes of cars, trucks, and trailers convoys moving more shit off the property were just stage props for Lyin' Lynda to practice her fevered incantations and other office party games, like that old chestnut, "Gossip." (Her entire life has been a lie!)
The Kid and his pa came over several days to help Lyin' Auntie Lyn, and "Auntie" Red, and "Auntie" Cork-Screwed with the façade of activity. Bubba and Bubba Lite (you know, twice the size! half the calories!) schlepped a bunch of boxes to truck and trailer, ferried the junk elsewhere, and puttered around the yard, taking orders from the howlet-faced general like good little soldiers.
But man's and boy's real purpose was to build a wooden screen fence to block off the view of the marijuana sheds from the west, north, and east. (Aww, Fudge! Those just happen to be the sides viewable from the street, from my property, and from Sierra High School.) This will greatly ease the BDGs' smuggling of people and product in and out of the MJ Sheds, allowing them to train, grow, and distribute with less chance of detection.
That is, of course, unless they move... and have to turn the operation over to someone else. Who else could these
- Take up long term residence elsewhere (not yet done)
- Flood their property with guard dogs and surveillance (already done)
- Set up the most kick-ass grow operation possible (pretty close)
- Move a
fall guyscion into place, trained in herbiculture and harvesting (but whom?) - Distribution - pretend they are Celia Hodes, "Weeds" character (done, done, and over done)
- Hone their NsFH skills (baked to perfection)
- Smoke happy grass happily ever after, or until their pea-brains are toasted (almost there!)
Sounds heavenly, huh?
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Nuts shaken from the TLC family tree |
The Keekin' Glass
How daur ye ca' me 'Howlet-face',
Ye blear-e'ed, wither'd spectre?
Ye only spied the keekin' glass,
An' there ye saw your picture.
(Robert Burns)
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