“Thank Jah, I’m a country boy…”
Ol’ Hank was a country boy who came from a long line of prideful lumberjack men. Years spent clearin’ brush and swingin’ a pickaxe started to take it’s toll on him though. Ol’ Hank. Or Buzzsaw Hank, as the fellas down at the pool hall liked to call him these days, on the count of him being too worn down to swing a hatchet. The fellas gave him hell for resortin’ to an electric saw to cut wood. Ol’ Hank had reached the end of his tether and questioned the worth of his beard and flannel shirt. Then he remembered hearin’ from a guy he used to corral pigs with that smoking marijuana was a means to fix what’s hurtin’ you.
He knew he didn’t want to smoke on the count of his pappy crossing over due to the black lung. He recoiled at edibles. Called them “elite”. Prided himself on eating only pure honey when it came to sweets. Would fist beehives in the wild to get a fix. Then Ol’ Hank discovered Cannadips. A cannabis dip or “chew” that harkened back to the days of the spittoon and outlaw saloon. It rebel-yelled to Hank [...]
