Friday, October 2, 2015

The Mother of all Skunks


As another Lame Cherry exclusive in matter anti matter.

Some might remember my STOP sign. The one the county put up to piss me off as it is in the middle of nowhere and we have never had an accident on our corner, but there it sits and no one stops for the damn thing.

Well some do stop for it, and that is what I was writing about as at Good Friday, TL, noted a fat boy in a van or something prowling around that sign and as we went to check, there was this vial on it........damn meth vial we figured.

So I contact the State Attorney General.......and that whiz bang outfit contacts our local Sheriff who we stop zooming up and down the road a week later.......and we wait.

OK so it is a change of the seasons and not a damn thing has changed, except the position of the vial has changed about once a week, and I pretty well have it figured out who is behind what is going on here, as the people have two of their kids on meth. Not that hard, except for perhaps a moron Sheriff or a Sheriff who is getting a cut out of the dope trade.

I live in an outlaw land and even my local official told me not to play with that vial or I might get shot. I don't mind the fireworks really, just I do not have enough time now to be explaining my actions protecting us from dope dealers on the prowl taking hours out of my day.

So the Holy Ghost came up with a plan in crime prevention. I have to do allot of trapping and I caught about a week ago a hen skunk.......big mother, have the one I had in the trap finally died. Skunks, if it rains, will say alive for months in a trap. I do not like wasting ammo and shooting things in box traps sometimes blows the wires it is just better to let the warm arms of nature wrap around them......but today I put a 22 into it's neck and it pissed some after it was dead.

So I picked up madam skunk and drove her out to the Stop got to understand this that I have so many dopeheads running up to that sign in the ditch, it looks like a coon trail out of a swamp. That would be raccoon not Negroid, and if you do not know what that is, just think of the trails coming out of Mexico into America in those invaders.

It is a pretty steep incline, and I put the skunk directly under the sign, about 10 inches back where little tennis shoe dope dealers are prone to stand.

Mind you now, the dopeheads seem to appear in the evening to pick up the dope.........I think by what has been observed is the way this works is this:

The dope head drops off their cash into the Federal Mail Box of the dealers a few days before the drop is made. This is to keep the exchange for ever being caught by police.......if there were any police who were not worthless in this police state which seems to like shooting blacks and fining whites.
Then around 11 pm, the dope dealers, fresh from their gathering spot or their cover in being at another location where they work on junkers, rod up and make the drop.......which is a little plastic vial exchanged for a vial duct taped, Red Green style to this nice Stop sign with only one bullet hole in it.
Perhaps that should be a tell, as the rest of the signs around these parts all have shotgun blasts going through them........and a new No Hunting sign was stolen. I am awaiting for the No Hunting signs to be blasted too....but I digress.

As a trapper, a person who enjoys the manipulation of taking heinous predators, my observance has the following steps taking place.
If dope heads appear, they will see this mother of all skunks laying there and stinking like a skunk. People are phobic about skunk stink and rabies........even meth heads can figure that one out, so now there is this phobic skunk there and no dope head is going to be trying to move it without stinking like skunk....and they will indeed have that skunk aroma on them as everything is nice and fresh.

If dope deal appears in the dark, it is their quickly rambling down the path, picking up velocity as it is a steep ditch, maybe noticing skunk scent, and then stepping on that carcase which should start to puff up a bit, and by position, I expect them to probably stumble over the thing and fall with gravity further down the ditch. At the very least, there is going to be some lively stepping going on, and I conclude some very foul language using the word "fuck" a great deal with taking God's Name in vain, and probably something about "son of a bitch" when they get back into the dope wagon, and the accomplice is wondering what is going on, along with wondering what the skunk smell is.

In forensic psychology, there is now a dilemma, as the dopers will not like sharing their meth with skunk and the dealers will not enjoy their company. Skunk is wonderful as no one going to pick that critter up and move it, and that includes coyotes as they do not like skunk smells until it gets very cold.
The nice thing is that oily sulfur scent stays and abides for months. The cool weather will make it a resident there until December if all goes well, and by that time these Obama criminals will probably have found another place to do business, which is the intention of this experiment.

I place this here concluding I should not become a target as it looks like someone shot a skunk there, so it will not end up in my mailbox. If it does, then I will enjoy contacting the postal authorities to get their armed asses out here to explain what this is all about, from worthless law enforcement, and the Feds can then deal with these dopers and dealers.

You see none of you ever know what Lame Cherry is up to on this blog in what I am doing here. Some have shown they are clever in spotting some things, but it is a matter like all things in life in, the cartel using mob manipulation all the time to accomplish things, and the reality is in this life, that a dead skunk, not in the middle of the road, but in a key location has a remarkable way of influencing the mob to change what they are doing that is annoying the hell out of the world.

Now for recreation, I have another lab experiment to enjoy in monitoring the cause and effect in human psychology. God made skunks for a reason with scent glands. God knows all things, and when Jesus created all of this, I am certain He knew one purpose was in what has just been engaged in.

You richtards are endangering me in not donating that 351,000 dollars, as having that TL and I would be armed to check our human psychological experiments. I would be frugal in gaining a 22 to use to shoot predators in the trap, and TL would probably get something beefier, as bird shot in a 45 makes a pleasant pot gun.

I now have to go attack some tomatoes in the garden and wrestle two wary tomatoes from those elusive plants.