teachin' yarbs at the tittie bar

Happy Beltane!

I’m back in that little drunk Christian town (my friend said the other day, “you know you’re in Winner when the Pizza Hut doesn’t deliver but the Dairy Queen does!” This town doesn’t have a PH or DQ, but the same general sentiment applies). Last night a state agriculture guy came in that I’d met last time I was here. Last time we had a long discussion about the relative virtues of agriculture, wildcrafting, and permaculture. This time I thought I’d ask him if he knew where to find nettles. As it turns out, he didn’t even know what nettles are! He was really interested though, and after we’d talked for a while and I had to get back to work I went out to the hobostrippermobile and grabbed a few books for him to look at – a field guide with good pictures, Tom Brown’s guide to edible and medicinal plants (which I thought he may be extra able to relate to), and of course Susan Weed’s Healing Wise. He sat there and read them for a couple hours, and even took notes! It turns out that he has nettles growing behind his barn, and he’ll bring me some tomorrow. And, go figure, he loves Susan Weed and wasn’t that into Tom Brown. He said to me, “this is kinda like these people that used to be around back in the sixties, you know, what were they called, hippies?”

I started some nettle infusion to bring him tonight. I’ll give it to him after he buys some lapdances and I shimmy and undulate around naked in his lap.

I love my life.