A Rude Awakening.

A squad of policemen standing at the foot of your bed shouting and waving a fistful of warrants at you is not the most pleasant way to wake out of your slumber any morning, but that’s the way the cookie crumbles sometimes.

As an outspoken and unashamed cannabis activist, grower and consumer it goes with the territory. Not the first time and I’m pretty sure, not the last.

Once my mind settled on the fact that I wasn’t been brought breakfast in bed, I thought it best to get up and see what all the commotion was about, although I had a pretty fair idea. I was greeted downstairs with the sight of about 20 or so police officers and a hallway strune with shattered glass and a hole in my back door that I could put my head through.

It was no surprise to me when they then handed me the warrants stating that “there is reasonable cause to believe that certain *[article(s)] namely drugs, drug paraphernalia, cash, mobile phones………” blah, blah fuckin’ blah blah “……..are on the premises.”

So the next few hours where spent with me drinking coffee, smokin’ fags and pointing out the folly and futility of their ways and how much of a waste of time and money to the taxpayers it all was. And to be fair, most of the officers agreed but pointed out that they don’t have a say in the matter. They don’t write the law, they just enforce it.

The fact I’m sitting here now typing this up is a clear indication that they didn’t find what they were after but left instead with their heads swirling with lots of new information on what the cannabis culture is all about and the knowledge that we’re going nowhere and we’re not hiding or being silent any longer.

Even left me with my “chilli” tent and all my “chilli” paraphernalia.

Happy days.

Will they be back? Quite possibly.

Will I be as lucky next time? Who knows.

Will it deter me? Fuck no.

This fights real and its till the death. Either mine or the laws.

Rise Up And Make Yourself Well.

Later alligators.

Emmet.