The Trump Eats Oreos...Who Knew?!

Weird weekend here at the compound.  Cousin Fred has been a bit moody since our flight to Iowa last week.  Course, I suppose I would be moody too after spending time in Iowa, but it was just an up and back trip.  The wife tells me that he intimated to her that it was a life-changing experience for him.  Hmmmm…which part, I asked?  The flight, Iowa, or the Trump?  She couldn’t answer that.

On Saturday, we commenced the annual Hohweiler Sandbur Harvest here at the compound.  Although turnout was low (okay, I was the only slob out there digging sandburs), I got lots of encouragement from blood/marriage relatives via Facebook.  The brother-in-law for instance asked that I call him when it was over to let him know how things went.  The nephew was so freaked out, he drove a truck in an easterly direction and hasn’t stopped yet that I know of (come back Nephew…all is forgotten).  Of course, he also asked me to harvest his sandburs when I was done with my own. 

Cousin Fred who, as I mentioned, has been acting rather moody since the Iowa trip was nowhere to be found.  The wife finally informed me that she saw him going into an old storage shed on the edge of the compound.  I found him inside curled in a fetal position and reciting a sacred Hindu chant that I’d not heard outside of India. 

I closed the door and walked away…didn’t want to know what was going on there (suspect it will reappear in a future post though – hint, hint).  After all, there were sandburs to be harvested and I had no time for slackers.  I got about half of the sandburs harvested and thought about waiting a couple of days before doing anything with them.  The burs seemed a bit too moist and I hoped the extra time would dry them out.  I was afraid the grain elevator people wouldn’t take them.  But, in the end, once I had three five-gallon buckets full of burs, I drove into Fargo to the Johnston Grain Company to drop off my load and hopefully pick up a check (if the prices were right).  It’s been something of a depressed market lately.  The Chinese are making great strides in sandbur agriculture, developing strains of hybrid plants that bear more burs per stem.   

The fellow on duty at Johnston Grain that day didn’t seem to understand the nature of my inquiry.  He kept looking in the buckets and then looking back up at me like I was deranged or something.  Finally, he suggested I take my sandburs elsewhere and stop wasting his time.

Unable to find a market for my sandburs, I contacted my friend in OKC who makes beer and asked if he would be interested in buying them for a beer recipe.  He was not interested, but suggested I contact an arch nemesis of his in Enid who had started a winery called Buffalo Crap Vineyards.  He thought the vintner might be interested in starting a line of sandbur-based Malbec wines…though my friend asked me to keep his “fingerprints” off of it.  He said to tell the guy that the robust tannins in the sandburs would make the flavors pop on the backend with hints of raspberry, Wrigley spearmint, and ouch.  I keep calling Buffalo Crap Vineyards, but they never seem to return calls.  In the meantime, I’ll store the sandburs until I can get someone to talk to me.  If all else fails, I guess I can enter my sandburs in competition at the upcoming Woodward County Fair. 

Saturday afternoon was spent at the Plains Indians and Pioneers Museum in Woodward for the reading of the proclamation making August 12th Temple Houston Day in Oklahoma.  The turnout for that was good.  Guess that’s why I couldn’t get any help with the sandburs.  The museum is a great local resource for the natural and cultural history of this region.  Plan a visit soon!

Late Saturday afternoon into late Saturday evening, yours truly Chief Blogger Hohweiler became Diamond Jim Hohweiler at the casino in Canton where I was conducting a personal experiment in how long a non-smoking degenerate gambler can tolerate the smoke of smoking degenerate gamblers.  I set a new personal best with 3.5 hours (I’m the non-smoking degenerate gambler in case you’re playing along at home).  <cough, gasp, wheeze>

The best part of the evening was the very cold 16 oz. Coors Light beer in an aluminum jug (served at 31 degrees) for a mere $2.50.  I know, I know, it’s not Stella Artois…but the alternative was Budweiser for a dollar more.     

Sunday was spent trying to get Hellkat One to come out of her trailer and give me some hint as to when she is departing…or, at least let me know she’s actually still among the living here at the compound.  Between the wife constantly on my back about how long Hellkat One will be here and the calls from the Palace in OKC asking for proof of life, I’m beginning to regret my decision offering her a spot to park.  

When I couldn’t get her to come out of her VERY humble abode, I came back in to read the news and guess what?????  The Trump is back on the funny pages!  I knew he wouldn’t let me down.  According to an article published on the Blaze’s web site, he made a speech in Alabama in which he announced that he will no longer eat Oreo cookies.  Seems he’s pissed that Nabisco, who owns the brand, shut their cookie factory in Chicago and moved the operation to Mexico.  The Trump was very upset about the move and said he just couldn’t understand why Nabisco would do that.  Psssst…Mr. Trump…I’m betting it has to do with much lower labor and operating costs…just a guess on my part.  The thing that really struck me is that a billionaire would even eat Oreos.  Me thinks someone in the media should have asked to see his dental records…just sayin’.

So, yes, I agree with the Trump (for once), we should all boycott Oreo cookies.  We’ll show the rat bastards at Nabisco a thing or two!   Oh, wait a second.  If we all boycott Nabisco products that will mean the company will be forced to close its remaining factories in the United States and result in the loss of even more American jobs.  Guess the Trump didn’t think this through to the BIG PICTURE. 

I’ll sure be glad when this campaign is over in another what…14 months??!!  I’m going back to bed.