" /> BRAINPAN LEAKAGE » Clandestine Cob Coppage
  • You’ll Never Take Me Alive…

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    I’ve got a question…

    Do any of you know what the statute of limitations is on produce thievery? I only ask because I think I must be in some kind of serious trouble. Especially if the sins of the parents are visited upon the offspring.

    I know, doesn’t make much sense, does it? Well, maybe I can explain.

    You see, my parents were Murvel Sellars Sr. and Sonja Sellars. Now, I realize those names are in no way synonymous with Bonnie & Clyde, but bear with me, because I think the Federales could be kicking down my door at any moment and I want to make sure the world hears this story before “the man” shuts me up…

    Wayyyyyy, wayyyy back when… And, I say wayyyy, wayyyy back because it was when I was a kid, so you know it has to have been a long time ago (think 40 plus years.)

    Anywho, way back when, my parents and their friends, would go out camping and such. Of course, we kids would come along too. We’d cook over the campfire, hike, and do all sorts of relaxing, fun, camping things. Well, it wasn’t unusual for us to camp within a short distance – maybe nearby, maybe even a couple of miles – of farmland. Said farmland would often times be planted with sweet corn.

    I think maybe you can see where I’m headed here?

    Well, I suppose some of you city folks might not… So, by way of explanation, we were occasionally known to “raid a corn field.” As in, go out in the middle of the night and help ourselves to a dozen or so ears of fresh sweet corn right out of the field, under cover of darkness… Clandestine Cob Coppage…  Kernel Kleptomania… Golden Grain Grabbage…  Starch Stealing… you get the idea…

    From there we would often boil, roast, grill, and even BBQ the ill gotten gains. Now, I need to point out that this wasn’t a nightly occurence by any stretch, but hey, it happened a time or two during the summer months.

    And now, I think that thievery has come back to haunt me. SWAT teams and such will probably be surrounding my house and launching tear gas in through the windows very soon.

    Why would I think that?

    Well, like I said, my parents were Murvel Sellars Sr. and Sonja Sellars… And, I’m Murvel Sellars Jr.

    Still not understanding? Well, I don’t blame you… So, here’s the kernel of the story:

    I checked my site logs the other day and discovered that Murvel and Sonja  Sellars are being searched out on the internet. Of course, the searches have lead the Federales straight to me, because my parents are both deceased and I don’t exactly hide out in the shadows if you know what I mean.

    And, what makes me think it’s the Federales? Easy… I tracked the IP address right back to the offices of the US Department of Agriculture in Fort Collins, Colorado.

    As I recall, that was some pretty good corn. Not worth prison time, but still pretty good.

    Wonder if I should just call my attorney and turn myself in. Shucks, maybe I can butter someone up and work out a sweet deal…

    More to come…

    Murv