PICTURE of YOURSELF THREAD

cannabineer

cannabineer

Ursus marijanus
Karah said:
I go every year :) My good friends put on this free day festival.

I’m not having my titties painted tho :oops:
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You're throwing away the nudo-gnostic opportunity of a lifetime. Have a heart; @neosapien is bereft of his wife for like days 'n shit, and you would bring such joy to both those parts of his anatomy that are filled with blood and doing rhythmic stuff.
 
Dr.Amber Trichome

Dr.Amber Trichome

Well-Known Member
doublejj said:
it is. It's an old pit gold mine that has filled with water....we still have a few openings for 'Trim Camp' starting in a couple weeks. So when are you coming down?
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Thank you for the invitation! That sounds like blast! And I would love to come to Trim Camp!! Unfortunately I don’t have any time off work for a few months. I hope you have a wonderful time and a prosperous harvest this year.
 
doublejj

doublejj

Well-Known Member
Dr.Amber Trichome said:
Thank you for the invitation! That sounds like blast! And I would love to come to Trim Camp!! Unfortunately I don’t have any time off work for a few months. I hope you have a wonderful time and a prosperous harvest this year.
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If you'll PM me your bosses phone number I'll see if i can arrange some well deserved time off...(:
 
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doublejj

doublejj

Well-Known Member
Dr.Amber Trichome said:
Thank you for the invitation! That sounds like blast! And I would love to come to Trim Camp!! Unfortunately I don’t have any time off work for a few months. I hope you have a wonderful time and a prosperous harvest this year.
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What It's Like to Be a 'Trim Bitch' on an Illegal Weed Farm
https://www.vice.com/en_us/article/qkggyp/what-its-like-to-be-a-trim-bitch-on-an-illegal-weed-farm-women-in-cannabis

As a weed trimmer—a position almost always filled by women—I can earn $3000 a week. But the sexism and stigma on marijuana farms have always made me wonder if it's worth it.
The new girls got in late last night and are all up at seven, being led around the dusty grounds of the property in the early morning sun. They are still dressed in their city clothes—tight jeans and cute shoes—and as they shuffle across the dirt and dry gravel they talk excitedly to one another, shielding their eyes as the bright sun slides slowly over the mountain, already coming up to punish us.
This time of year, new girls are constantly coming to the property. It's mid-July in southern Humboldt County, and the first round of the year's marijuana harvest—all one thousand pounds of it—is hanging in the sheds or newly dried in contractor bags and cardboard boxes, ready for us to start trimming into perfect, salable little nuggets. From now until Christmas, we'll trim 16 hours a day, every day. We'll sit the whole time, break sparingly for food, and only get up to the go to the bathroom when we absolutely must. We'll smoke constantly and increasingly. Even with 30 of us, we'll be pushing to get it all done before the end of the year.
The new girls are new; they don't know any of this yet. But I've worked in enough of these scenes to know that as far as trimming weed goes, this place is as good as it gets.

I call our place the Farm, though it isn't ours: It's Jim's*. Jim's farm is two hours from the nearest city, 90 minutes from a gas station or a grocery store, at the end of a long logging road high in the coastal mountain range of Northern California. It's hard to get to; there isn't much local traffic save for the occasional work rig running bags of soil up the gravel road to one of the dozens of other grows in our little neighborhood. No highway patrol cars would bother to cruise in this far, which is a relief because Jim grows his weed illegally. There's no phone service and no internet. Most nights the only sounds you can hear are wind, coyotes, and the white noise of generators.
 
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