Shempy Shrub

The Shempy is a common bush throughout many parts of the world. It also is known as the Ed Lacy Shrub, or The Rudin. The bush is native to regions of Normandy in France, but it was taken to the new world by the Lacy family after they were banished from the region. Legend says that it has appeared on their family crest, but tales are unconfirmed. It is an invasive species that will contaminate gardens and other sensitive areas due to its tendency to be a burden on the soil by taking up excessive nutrients and requiring unwarranted attention to its unruly growth.

It is a medium-sized shrub that curiously resembles a plump woman’s buttocks. Pods grow from its branches, and the pods can be used as food, to make glue, and can be fermented to create a curious brandy-like concoction known as Lacy Liqueur. While pungent and aromatic, the drink has unusual side affects. Reports by those who have either drunk the spirit or who have witnessed others under the influence say that the consumer soon begins to pepper conversations with obtuse comments and non-sequiturs. The imbiber then speaks with an impatient tone and can disrupt conversations in order to offer corrections to each speaker’s claims. Lacy liqueur is an ingredient in the “aviator” cocktail.

Apocryphal Tale Of Milton Melton: The Thoreau of Dayton

As I sit here in the forest upon my oak stump, meditating over my usual lunch of smoked kippers, wild mushrooms, and moonshine, I am reminded of the famed words from the great philosopher Milton Melton, “Let food be thy medicine and medicine be thy food.” Melton, known as the “Thoreau of Dayton,” was one of the region’s great thinkers, theorists, and hedonists. In the spirit of Thoreau, he even lived for a time in a cardboard shanty beside a small pond. It was there that he composed his greatest works and planted the seed of thought that would one day grow into his manifesto. There is an apocryphal tale (though I think it’s really true) about Melton’s despair at the great pits of mud that ringed his pond. He claimed that the treacherous mud bogs ensnared him like a fly in molasses during his morning stroll. Thus, he planned to build a paved “trail” so that he could have clear and effortless passage, which would allow him to spend his time in thoughtful meditation rather than in scrapping mud from his boots. However, living in such a remote area offered him few building materials—except for the mud. So one night, under the cover of darkness, he crept into the nearest village. While the inhabitants slumbered, he raided their outhouses of “nightsoil” and returned to his shanty with bucketfuls overbrimming with the unwholesome muck. He performed this deed every night for many weeks—long enough to gather enough nightsoil to encircle the pond in the form of a paved trail. With haste, he toiled under blazing suns and starry nights. Soon, his work was done, and the nightsoil dried to the hardness of a stale biscuit. And when visitors came from far and wide, they all remarked with amazement at what became known as Melton’s Splendid Shit Path.

Doug Henning

As you can see, Doug Henning escaped the great hippie roundup of ’72. Most likely, he used his powers of magic and illusion to foil the Nixon administration’s attempt to capture the hippies and sell them to China. Although he was “bummed” about this grave injustice, Henning would not use his arcane skills in retaliation. Vengeance was not his “trip.” No, he used his powers for peace and love and to make rainbows and stuff. Henning applied his magic to create muppets and to bring fairy tale creatures to life. His days of magic were numbered though. Tragically, he inadvertently turned himself into a magic mushroom while brainstorming with Peter Max for a book about groovy rainbows. Miss Piggy ate the mushroom.