Oh hello, Spring has sprung and with it the urge to bacchanalia till you drop is reaching escape velocity. I offer as a remedy the first party of the season targeted for Sunday, April 19th. There will be gewgaw and folderol for all. That, by the way is Not what you should bring as your pot luck offering. The usual gang of knuckleheads will lead us down the musical path to temptation and urge us into seditious forms of behaviour like dancing, drinking, smoking, joking and exploring the dark gooshy places ventured into after such an event. My mom will be here and has agreed to fly her all girl band in from joisey to play a couple of tunes. They're called the Octagepussykatz and consist of two Tibetan fog horns, a didgeridoo, accordian, washboard and timbales. They will rip the tops of your heads off. Oh, and by the way, watch your language, eh. I'm calling it for 2pm till 8pm so as to avoid W.M.C.F.K.(WimpMusicianColdFingerKvetch). If its raining, it ain't happening. I read the text of a letter sent recently from some midwestern industrial farm conglom to the First Lady regarding her organic veggie garden, "respectfully" warning her of the dangerous inadequacies inherant to organic farming and going on to trumpet the wonders of chemically treated crops whose yields are SOOOO much greater and whose chances of survival are SOOOO much better because of the wondrous pesticides now coursing the blood streams and altering the genetics of each and every one of us. I needed a time out. Not just a Johnny black with beer back break either. So I went out to the pond and sat on my haunches with a handful of sedated insects (just put em' in the freezer for a couple of minutes), waiting for the nearest bufo to take the bait. Didn't take long before I rassled one down and gently masqueezed its back until a thin, light brown oily substance began to shine in the afternoon light. I took a big ol' lick hoping that the bufo would turn into princess Di in the body of a nineteen year old Thai girl with mocha silk skin, skilled in the art of Kama Sutra with particular mastery of the posture known as "mongoose foraging in the musk melon patch". After vomiting for three or four hours, I felt a lot better. Still seeing stars though. I'm not sending any photos of the chickabals this week as they are grounded. Seems as though the relaxants in their water supply wore off and they ran down the neighbors dog and ate him..............not good. They have taken to weaving strands of grass into bandanas and walking around with boom boxes affixed to their ears playing lowrider music,. You'll see little groups of them hanging out in corners or in tall grass clumps geezing oyster shell flour and planning savage raids on all pets within a four hundred yard radius. We're bringing in one of Doc Bebockbocs close friends who specializes in tough love anger management. What Doctor Waldo Sardonicups phD. does is place the feet of an offending chick ever so slightly into a pot of boiling water so as to solicit a scream inaudible to humans but a total freaker to her cousins. They become completely distracted and forget their bloodlust momentarily. The good doctor has put together a device that allows a chicken to be dipped at an interval which keeps the rest of the flock flummoxed all day. I also saw a technique on Dick Cheneys web site that looks promising. We'll break the little fuckers of their grotesque habits even if we have to kill em'and eat em' all.

Lets see, we've got atemoya, avocado, some citrus, papaya, jaboticaba, soursop, raw coffee beans, plenty of greens and herbs as well as House of Yumm pesto, chocavopousse, tomatillo salsa and froozies. The eggs are trickling in so i'm hoping that within a couple of weeks we'll start to have some to sell. We're open by appointment any time of day although I encourage shopping in the morning or later in the day when the veggie leaves are at there crispy best. 878-6287 Nurse Brandy took off today leaving a super secret recipe for turnovers and tracers of twinklemoan in her wake. She's on assignment in Boulder where she will be participating in a triage operation to treat patients with advanced cases of narcissitic rage. Those who are too far gone will be allowed to sit mindlessly in front of t.v.s that no longer work, clicking a remote which solicits no response but to display a commercial for American Idol over and over again, creating a perfect state of equilibrium between useless wanting and endless waiting. Those still coherant will be read Dr. Seuss stories while on morphine drips. She doesn't know what will come next for her, but has promised to keep us posted as to her whereabouts worldwide, which I look forward to sharing. And last but not least, HOW ABOUT TIGER AT BAYHILL. HOLYCRAP. The more you come, the more we'll grow, Peace out, Jp