The Gonzo Wolf

Well good morning, all you shiny, happy people! It’s The Reverend; who would’ve thunk it? Well, probably all of you by now.

I LOVE IT when the WordPress AI image generator absolutely refuses to create a cover photo from my subject matter. Eat wieners, Skynet!

The schizophrenic upstairs was finally taken away by the police last night to get some help, I hope. It’s actually a hilarious story and, I wish I could tell you, but I’m currently being monitored by the other side.

You see, there’s a couple of local, influential-in-small-circles, religious nut jobs doing religious nut job things. They’re trying to convince people that I’m a satanist, or evil, or the opposite of whatever it is they publicly stand for – I truly give two poops and a poke. I really didn’t want to poke the bear, but I woke up feeling frisky. Let me make this clear so even the folks in the nosebleeds can understand:

• I was officially baptized into the Church of Christ in 1983.
• I officially lost my faith on September 21st, 1997.
• I was officially excommunicated in 2005.
• Since then, I’ve been me; a student of all religions, but hoping it’s all really aliens. I’m really leaning toward the whole Sith thing. I dig cloaks.

For me to get reinstated as a Christian and pretend the excommunication never happened (which is what several Christians have suggested to me over the years; um, no) would completely unravel the laws of the Christian mythos, therefore, I can no longer be a Christian; get off my case about it.

I must NOT go to church ever again, or it proves the whole thing is hokey.

I’m doing this for YOU. I’m the glue that holds Christianity together. Perhaps I’m the second coming? Remember: It’s not sacrilegious if they kicked you out…

Tis a heavy burden.

You know what?

Fuck it.

I’m gonna tell my story. IDGAF if you go to church with the President; hypothetically. For reference.

RIP

So, I’ve been given some of this super secret, soon-to-be-legal-as-soon-as-the-disabled-ramp-gets-installed-at-the-dispensary, happy plant by one of the businesses up the street. I plopped down in Pepaw’s porch swing and “popped a nug into me pipe” (in a Popeye voice).

Ceremony is everything, otherwise everything is nothing.

Newsflash: It’s some of the worst I’ve had since high school. All-Terrain Abbott’s wacky 4th grade science lab cronies have bred most of the THC out of it. It’s basically tobacco that tastes like weed, but I digress. Coming soon to a gas station near you.

I was mid-flame, when I noticed movement out of my right peripheral. I paused like stunned animal. There were three sets of feet coming down from my disturbed neighbor’s house, and I suddenly got incredibly happy. Holy shit, I thought to myself, this bastard finally went out and found some friends! Maybe they can help keep an eye on the poor, unfortunate soul.

No such luck.

When they turned the corner, I noticed two of them had on reflective vests.

It was in this moment when I realized I had a choice. Tuck the pipe away (even though it’s legal, it all smells the same; I didn’t feel like having a “moment” in today’s citizen/law enforcement climate), and walk inside, or be who I am and take the fattest, smokiest pull off my rather noticeable pipe and blow it in their direction?

A smile formed on both sides of the stem as I performed the latter.

Both cops busted out laughing. They wanted to confront me – I could see it in their eyes – but they were escorting a dude in handcuffs down two flights of stairs. They got into their unmarked vehicle, locking eyes with me for a good ten seconds or so as the gate slowly opened, and drove away.

It was in that moment when I removed my ass from its perch and went indoors. I’m defiant, but I’m not stupid. I didn’t do so earlier because I didn’t want them to know which door was mine. Wink.

I mean, between the AI, “gunfire detectors”, and facial recognition, they could know everything in a few seconds if they’d wake up their IT guy. Big Brother is always watching, he just doesn’t know what he’s looking for half the time. It’s a big, big world, folks.

Always trust in the force, kids. Within ten minutes, there were badges all over the place searching for something or someone with flashlights. No, they weren’t looking for me specifically (a masked guy was trying to kick in my neighbor’s door; no bullshit, it’s an interesting town), but I would’ve been the prime suspect if I were still sitting there performing my Hobbit ritual.

I basically farted in their general direction, and lived to tell the tale. Wow, that’s a lot of pop-culture references smashed into a couple of paragraphs, but I managed to pull it off. This is why they pay me the no-bucks.

Preach truths, toke jokes, and shoplift Amazon.

Perhaps t’was the good lord who speaketh to me through the bud, and sayeth, “Go into thyne house, oh poon, and testeth not the moxy of Dallas PD. They art ruled by a fascist-in-training, and are unpredictable AF. Although, one of them was white, so I had that fifty-percent privilege thing going on. I’m not proud, but I’m stuck with it. Waste not; want not.

A-Dude.