As another Lame Cherry exclusive in matter anti matter.
All readers will be aware of my mothering of South Dakota. Being next door to paganistic Minnesota and anal Iowa, I have like Moses, proclaimed, "Let my Cow Pie go", in rescuing them the best I could from abject Mutardation and Libealism.
While I do not travel, I took it upon myself to burn amounts of petroleum products on a necessary venture of utmost importance. Of course it would not be necessary to explain my reason for going, as it would not be understood by your minds, and I simply do not will to humiliate my readers any more than is necessary in saving them from themselves.
Let us just say, I was there, as no one else could fulfill the remedy.
For that reason, upon arriving in that great waste expanse of wasteness where it is difficult to differentiate Minnesota, Iowa, Wisconsin, Missouri wasteness from South Dakota wasteness, but suffice it to say it was genuine South Dakota wasteness, and for that reason, upon arriving in that wasteness I promptly judged the situation to be one that should be left to a lesser woman and set about to fill my license of bagging three ragweed.
Yes South Dakota allows taking of this trophy in numbers of three, during non breeding season, and of course only harvesting the male of the species, with the abject reason to protect this most coveted game specie.
I was wonderfully filling my bag limit when events arose which I feared would have me discovering the utmost of monumental discoveries. See I trap ragweed, with a 48 inch by 144 inch by 48 inch live trap. The bait of course is my own proprietary formula with ingredients from both the near and far east, an American aromatic, produced in a copper boiler, always before the stunning photo of Raquel Welch.
Some may overlook the visual enticement of Ms. Welch in lure, but few know that Chanel #5 is produced in quantities before the painting of the Mona Lisa.
As stated, I was busy filling my bag, when unforeseen by me, event in forensic psychology, what should happen, but I began capturing Big Foots. Now I know people will say, that they know I have shot many of them as Big Foot have a fondness for two things in this life, being trans dimensional beings. The first is they have a fondness for being shot and the second is their fondness for women who jig for pike with Swedish Pimple lures. The latter was my problem in I really like jigging with the Swedish Pimple and I can not abide a Big Foot interrupting my jigging as they always are pulling up the lure just when a fish is about to bite. So naturally not giving up my Constitutional right to life, liberty and the pursuit of jigging with Swedish Pimple, I rightfully shot the Big Foots, who upon being shot, disappear back into the odd dimension from this even one.
It was I, Lame Cherry who first wrote of Big Foot being a UFO cross dimensional being and now everyone speaks of this, but unlike Darwin, no one gives me credit for this discovery.
The problem is that I thought I could just set more traps to catch my ragweed, but the more traps I set, the more Big Foots I captured. It was like I had opened a door and they were on an energy slide. The more I trapped, the more an avalanche of Big Foot appeared and I was being deprived of fulfilling my bag limit of rag weed.
Honestly, there is only so many places you can put a Big Foot. They are stinky creatures, make aboriginal sounds, not unlike Barack Obama and the last thing you want to do is play banjo music as once they begin dancing, they simply will not stop.
I discovered my mistake only too late, when if I had trapped ragweed in the summer, when numbers of pop up campers were in use in parks, the Big Foot would have left me at leisure as everyone knows a Big Foot will always choose a pop up camper to lift up, than anything else in any dimension.
As it was, my traps were full and without banjo entertainment, the Big Foot were becoming more than I cared to deal with. Yes the bloom was off the ragweed and the blush of too many Big Foot was taking my joy of sport from me.
My ragweed lure was far too enticing for the Big Foot in near east and far east lures. Little did I know that my ragweed lure had within it, a most interesting effect that it was both alluring and lethal. It required about 33 hours, but soon the Big Foot were deader than nails and they were disappearing right and left, just as I had engaged a pelter from the city of Beresford who was going to weave Big Foot mane into luxurious Antarctic fur coats.
Few people know of my discovery, but as Big Foot stink, if you wash their fur in a mixture of borax, baking soda, peroxide and fragrant rose geranium oil, the resulting product has the scent of an earthy fen. Alive it is a different matter as it more light scented civet musk with earthy potatoes, which is not pleasant in the least.
Now though with my Big Foot all disappeared and all that remained was that primate stench, which is a great deal like the wafting odor of PETA folk who gather in closed rooms in cities. Both of which attract the Burnt Orange Dung Sucking Butterfly. My rented residence appeared in the umber colours of autumn leaves with all of these vanished Big Foot about.
With that, not having filled my bag of ragweed, I left South Dakota, swearing to never return again. Nothing upsets me more than being denied my ragweed bag, and nothing upsets me more than Big Foots interfering with my rights to Swedish Pimple jigging or the capture of ragweed.
I had so hoped to have my ragweed trophy mounted in trio.Now my wall only has a floral of bison, bear and moose as nothing sets off ragweed more than a good floral of bison, bear and moose. I know there are those who would say that I could have just used the ragweed call and then shot my quarry, but I wanted to trap them, as that is more fulfilling to trap a plant than to call it in and shoot it.
Some would say I could change lure to the standard ragweed #2, but I wanted to trap them with my own lure, in my own way.
Alas though I was thwarted by Big Foot. I have not had a good pike catch, since I began using Norwegian Swedish Pimple and I have not had a good ragweed brace since using Ragweeder Lure #45, as these Big Foots are all over the place and I simply can not be rid of them.
I would have thought that my switching from a pop up camper to a tarp lean to would have been enough, but I no longer can fish pike in Michigan nor trap ragweed in South Dakota, due to the inordinate amount of Big Foot invading these regions.
I have though told a lie, in I did not desire to hang my ragweed on the wall, but to wear it proudly in ragweed skins in my Eve attire. Yes I lusted for the fabric costume of the leaf in all of it's Garden of Eden glory.
It is a horrid thing to have Big Foot so under foot. It is equal to my no longer being able to picnic for all the gryphon.
There simply are so many gryphon I can feed to my gyrafalcon.
Nuff Said
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