Squaw weed, Mammy!

Long ago in a land fixing to enter into a period of wicked iniquity there dwelt a humble bunch of plants. Because those particular plants were good for treating menstrual cramps they were known at that time as squaw weed. The roots of the squaw weeds were boiled to make the menstrual cramp medicine which was then mixed with whiskey and drunk like tea or water. Along with the tea, the victim or patient generally also got to enjoy a marijuana cigarette. Pretty soon following this treatment the cramps became slightly less agonizing and the ailing squaw fell into a blissful sleep only to be awakened by the terrible cry of alarm, Wake up, Ms. Pistubby, the white boys are sneaking up on us.

Those were bad times. Yet worse times were to come. Anon, just about everyone forgot that squaw weed was good for the cramps. So the squaw weeds decided to hold a conference or pow wow. What are we good for?, most of the squaw weeds wanted to know. We have lost our way!, cried others. Why are we here?, many whined. And even, the terrible cry, I got no reason to live!, resounded in the conference hall or gymnasium the squaw weeds rented for the occasion.

Obviously, something had to be done. But no solution or purpose came easily to the unhappy squaw weeds. They fussed and fussed long into the night. Then, just around mid-night, the WG, who is known by many names, including Mammy, fired off a blue norther at those parts.

Yet the squaw weeds were so absorbed by their debate that nobody noticed how cold it was getting. No. Those squaw weeds continued to argue and fuss even as the temperature dropped below freezing.

Hold it!, yelled out a squaw weed that up until then had hardly participated in the debate. Something is happening to my feet. And look! Something is happening to your feet too.

So that’s how Mammy showed the squaw weeds what they were good for.

Today’s verb virgin picture is shot from a slightly different perspective. It’s like a Good Year blimp shot, almost directly overhead. What Crumby did was, last night Crumby removed all the ice ribbons from the subject frostweed. So this photo shows all the ice that got extruded just last night. Mercy! That’s at least six, and probably seven, ice extrusions from the subject verb virgin.