For lunch today, I opened a can of canned crab meat to use for the filling for sandwiches. The bread, two hot dog buns and 2 flour tortillas.
To use canned crab meat, you have to remove the wax paper inside the can and drain the excess liquid, which I call Crab Water. My cats were begging as soon as I opened the can. I give them the bowl of crab water, and the can for them to lick clean.
Oh, and for the purposes of this story, I help my mother care for chickens. They have a small fenced area in the backyard. We also give them scraps of food as treats.
A little while ago, I go to the kitchen to refill my water jug. I notice the empty can on the floor next to Coco’s cat dish. I pick it up to rinse it, and recycle it. I tell her the story above, and she says:
“Did you give it to the chickens or kitties?”
I pause, think for a moment, and say: “…Did I give Crab Water to the chickens?” Like that’s a normal, accepted thing to give chickens. Crab Water.
The concept of “Crab Water” is odd enough. Somehow the thought of chickens drinking it is hilarious!
Why did the chicken cross the road? To drink the Crab Water.
Also, it’s not like crabs can drink Chicken water? (Which is chicken stock?) I know Crabs live in water, but do they drink it?
On Tuesday/Wednesday I Was up until 1227am because I couldn’t sleep. I went to bed at my regular time these days around 8pm. I did everything I usually do, but couldn’t sleep. At about 3 hours, I turned my phone back on and browsed with nightlight setting on, bedtime mode on, and the brightness to zero. When nothing else works, reading puts me asleep. This didn’t work either. I haven’t been able to exercise much the past week because I strained my right foot. I’m only feeling better again today. Long story short, the lack of exercise screwed up my routine and sleep. Melatonin, Valerian root, and magnesium supplements do work to a point. Good sleep hygiene also helps. When everything fails and I can’t sleep, I smoke pot. My main reason for smoking pot has been to help me sleep. (For the pot head readers, it was the strain GMO by the company Dank Czar.) Pot was a last resort after trying many prescription medicines that didn’t help or had bad side effects. Occasionally I get a story like this.
I had a bowl of pot with the strain GMO loaded. Smoked it. When I came back in, Lucy dashed outside. I’m very careful at night coming back in from the back deck by opening the backdoor slowly, by not opening the door much, and herding her gently with my feet if necessary. Tonight, she out maneuvered me and escaped. I drank a swig of water, and went back outside whispering to Lucy. “Lucy? Where are you?” She was outside the garage door, on the concrete patio path with her fur proofed out. Ready to fight, or pounce.
Something with a glowing green eye was in the rundown, lean to, shitty garage. I heard a strange higher pitch animal call. I scooped her up, in my arms firmly so she couldn’t escape and held her against me. Lucy tried to squirm and wiggle free as she usually does when either my mother or I pick her up to hold her and give her kisses. She meows like a teenager would to their parents not being cool. When she’s had enough after 10 seconds, she wiggles around like a snake or worm to wriggle free, as I put her back on the floor.
Complaining with a meow that said: “Nooo! Put me down! I want to see what’s in the garage!” I whispered: No Lucy, it isn’t safe out during the night anymore. There are coyotes nearby! I quickly walked back inside, as quietly as I could. I fear a coyote. A couple years ago I saw 2 crossing the road about a half mile away where my street crosses Rainier Ave.
As I took Lucy inside, carefully closing the door so she couldn’t escape out again. She dashed to her *Cat tree play toy* in the living room. Scratching the bottom mast, staring at me, eyes crazy, ready to play. I remember at that moment that we are both high. I gave her a double amount of catnip infused cat treats, in her food dish, the moment before I went to smoke. I couldn’t resist her sleepy begging eyes, and cute charm. Rubbing against my ankles helped. Lucy’s my only kitty. Of course I spoil her.
I tried to play with her, but one of us knocked over my cylindrical foam roller (think a thicker pool noodle, black). Flop! The noodle tipped over hitting the living room floor! Lucy disappeared in a flash. I assume all the way upstairs to mom’s room for the night. She comes back to visit me as I’m tucked in bed trying to sleep, writing this story. She is already purring as she hops onto my bed. She settles on me for like 3 minutes. She leaves again. Lucy is high, lol. I believed that I saved Lucy’s Life that night. Or we could have been both so stoned that we were both paranoid and reacted to nothing. Oh well.
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This story originally posted on Facebook. This is an updated, rewritten version of the post. In early January, I was looking for a new everyday pair of sneakers to use for work. Hard to believe it will be 4 months since it was closed by the corporate owners, and all 30 people lost their jobs at once…
Like many people I buy most of my stuff online through the Amazon borg. I would prefer to buy shoes at a store, but the past few times I have, the service was awful and the selection limited. For a couple years, I’ve wanted to have blue sneakers that were decent quality and not too expensive. Earlier in 2019, I had a different pair of blue everyday sneakers. Unfortunately, they started to smell like a garbage dumpster, and no amount of cleaning would get rid of the foul odor. I guess that’s what happens when you wear some sneakers without socks during the summer. I made do for months with a pair of red Rockport shoes as seen in this picture:
(Despite this entry being about shoes, I’ve never been someone known for fashion or spending much money on clothes. I lean toward comfort and practicality. Some times you gotta say “Fuck it” and try something out!)
Usually, Amazon is pretty on point with suggestions and items that fit what you are searching for. I searched: “Men’s sneakers”. I expected sneakers and running shoes. Logical. What was illogical was this pair of shoes….
Actual product description…
ON THE FIRST RESULTS PAGE for “Blue men’s sneakers”. So, having normal human curiosity for strange shiny things, a propensity for unique experiences… Yeah, I clicked on them. How could I not?
Inside was further comedy gold. Such as: “FASHION LOAFERS – Less dressy than Bal oxfords, Can be worn with jeans assuming they are casually styled”. This makes a massive assumption. Any casual style jeans? Did the author of the description actually interact with this product?!
More: “COMFORTABLE – Faux Leather upper plus breathable ultralight soft insole let you feel good and lessen joint impacts” Just, no. You have to focus on maintaining your balance like an ice skater to wear these if not on a flat level surface.
Continued: “A GREAT GIFT – If you know your dad, husband, brother or boyfriend’s shoe size this will be an amazing gift for them on their birthday, Christmas or any other suitable occasion” Oh lord…You do not surprise men with these shoes as a gift they didn’t ask for. Well, if you want to start a fight I suppose. Lol.
More from the page… SLIP-ON – they are a product of comfort and convenience. Hahahaha. I supposed wearing these is like wearing high heels. These are not comfort shoes. You wear these to stand out. I’m astounded that women put up with wearing heels every day.
My favorite gem: “for everyday wear and easy to pair up with an outfit; Whether going to a barbeque, wedding, business meeting, or shopping; these shoes can get the job done in style without causing unnecessary pain” I can’t top that with commentary. According to the ad, clearly the shoes can be unnecessary by using them abusively as described here. May cause unnecessary pain by surprising people with them as a gift, by wearing them without accentuated clothes, by lying about how wearing it feels. If you want even more fun, check out the rabbit hole of related products. It gets stranger and stranger the more you search. You too can easily wear 80s pop musician clothes! …Ugh, I just wrote an awesome ad without meaning to.
A wise man once said: “Cocaine is a hell of a drug….” Giggling while telling his own crazy story. It was rock star Rick James, collaborating Charlie Murphy’s story about him on Charlie Murphy’s True Hollywood stories, on Chappelle Show. If you haven’t seen that episode, I suggest you watch it after reading this. Episode 204. Or on youtube. That whole episode is still relevant. I counter that “Cannabis is a hell of a drug…:”
Likenesses and details changed. Names for characters are combinations of celebrity names. Any likeness to real people, or companies is coincidental. Based on a Drug Trip.
Once upon a time in a nondescript warehouse in the PNW,
There was a small legal cannabis company. They bought their cannabis from farms, and sold it to stores as the brand Dirty Girl Cannabis Co. A classic small business warehouse which was growing in employees by the month. A typical day in a tier 3 distributor weed company is a handful of things for a cannabis processor. Cannabis strains such as White widow, Girl Scout Cookies also coined Og (Short for Ocean Grown) cookies (to avoid a lawsuit), Blue Dream, or Sherbet, are stuffed into plastic mylar bags or glass jars. The bud is weighed out on an electric scale for packed containers varying from one gram to one ounce in weight. ‘Rolling’ joints, or packaging cartridges.
The work space where all of this is produced is like someone set up an office in a storage warehouse with whatever tables and chairs they could find online. Your basic warehouse layout… Cold and grim, but functional. The work culture, being a weed company, is anything but. It’s a weird cross of Half Baked, The Office, and Mad men. Day to day work is often repetitive like working on a production line, by filling as many bags of story ready product, and rolling as many joints as possible. This creates a work culture where you listen to something on headphones, or talk with your coworkers about whatever while your hands are busy. Often a bit too lax since everyone working there are stoners!
It was an usually sunny day on a chilly spring morning at Dirty Girl Cannabis Company. The work assignment is to help fill a current order by breaking down cannabis strain Purple Haze, into shelf quality bud for legal retail stores. The whole team is processing and packaging cannabis into ounce bags. The quality of this Purple Haze weed? If the best stuff is Jimmy Hendrix’s hit coined after this strain, this is a person on youtube playing it, but only knows half the song, and can’t sing. You can’t blame the farmers for selling this stuff… If someone ends up buying it. Growing cannabis is a specialized skill like farming any other agricultural product. This batch wasn’t grown right. It had no smell despite being a cross of two pungent parent strains – Purple Thai with an aroma reminiscent of purple flowers and chocolate, and Haze, which smells like fresh orange-spice tea . This smelled like hay. A common sign of improperly cured and grown weed. Cannabis is grown, chopped, hung up, and dried. If only one of these precise methods is screwed up, the final product’s quality will be dramatically affected. Lower THC percentages, less beneficial effects, little to no smell or taste, and so on. If you bought this from a retail cannabis store, it would be like buying canned peaches, opening it up, and discovering the peaches were barely ripened, have a stiff mealy texture, taste awful, and offer no nutritional value.
Processors don’t enjoy trimming this weed, but nobody likes every part of their job. When you make minimum wage, this is “Paycheck weed”. Top grade Purple Haze is it’s own experience unto itself. At high doses it feels like the classic Jimmy Hendrix hit, the world appears in a golden glow, you are happier due to its antidepressant effects, and it tastes amazing. Like chocolate, berries, violets, and spices. It can make you energetic, or sleepy depending on how it’s grown.
To be continued…
Fuck! Writer’s block! Ugh.. Writing is hard! I wanted to finish this today, for it to be a longer post, but I’m tired and don’t want to be late for a second week in a row. I must honor the readers I have, even if zero people visited the blog in the past two days. A stark reality check for me as a beginning blogger. Despite writing this since 6am today, clearly I underestimated the amount of work this post required. That’s what I get for procrastinating on this all week. I guess this is part of the learning curve for blogging. So I’m splitting this story into two, and will finish it tomorrow. Yes, a shitty cliffhanger…
Song of the post, Mary Jane by Rick James.:
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