See y'all on the other side...

Hey y’all -

Kind of in a rush. This is gonna be my last post for a while, since I’m joinin’ my main man Bud Not Buddy on the lam. My little sister Ruthie blabbed about me killin’ a cop and I can’t bring that kind of heat on my fam, kna’mean? So I’m out for a little bit.

So you know, I don’t feel bad ‘bout the cop I popped. That dude put Jim Casy out, no problem, just for tryin’ to get some men to join together. I’m like, “What, dude?” and I whacked him before he whacked me.

Man, forget Cali and the 5-0. Definitely ain’t no California Love. Sherrif come and burned up the Hooverville we were staying in, just because Knowlesy asked for a contract. Then, we get turned away from a town by a local militia who have it in for Okies.

Finally, we get to Weedpatch - nice name, right? But it was really a pretty sweet place to be. We got a little bit of money from the government and everybody did a real good job workin’ together. But the cops hate us so much that they paid some dudes straight cash to start a riot while we tryin’ to get down and mack on some ladies at the dance. That would’ve given them an excuse to come in and shut us down. Good thing the one nice guy in Cali - Mr. Thomas - let us know to look out for those backstabbers. At least a mob  tells you they ain’t on your side.

It’s been a wicked trip. But I feel like I’ve learned some things from my experience, kna’mean? Especially from Jim Casy, RIP, y’all. LIke, as we journey through the country, I’m also makin’ a journey through my mind. I feel like one of them deep dudes, kna’mean?

When I started this thing, I was livin’ for today and just tryin’ to help my family get by. Now, I’m feelin’ like, we all family out here workin’. It ain’t about lookin’ out for number one, feel me? We all on the same team an’ we gotta come together and fight the man. We gotta make sacrifices today so we can get some power in the future.

Get together, y’all.

Jodacious out.

RIP Gramps & Grams Joad, aka Keep On Truckin'

Dawg, this whole journey to California thing just keeps gettin’ worse. Practically soon’s we start makin’ moves, we come across this old gas-station owner who doesn’t want to sell us gas. He assumed we were ridin’ dirty, ‘bout to stiff him on gas. Man, you know what happens when you assume, right? Anyways, turns out that chump’s almost as broke as we are. We put his head on right, but our dog got hit by a car. Stupid mutt. Least the gas-station owner could do is bury him.

I’m all like, “Whatevs, let’s get this whip out on the road. Cali’s a long way.” We roll through OKC and it was tight. But I don’t see us havin’ that kinda lifestyle no time soon. Can’t get distracted by what might be. Gotta live here an’ now, you know? I think the shock of the big city and all the bling there made Gramps realize that how different some people live than all us farmers scrapin’ by. Or maybe it was the heat. But that night, we ran into some nice folks, the Wilsons, who let him crash in their tent. Then, all of a sudden, it was lights out, Gramps. RIP, old man. This time, we did the buryin’ ourselves. It kills me that he lived his whole life on the farm, and gets buried five hundred miles away.

Anway, with the Wilsons, things felt good, we really got movin’ and shakin’ when we teamed up. We busted straight on through ‘Zona and New Mexico. Started hearin’ some scary news comin’ outta Cali, though. Some guys say the landowners get way more people to come out than they need. Then, everybody’s there and takes less money than they should. Say there ain’t no way to earn a living. Ugh... Pa and Uncle John and me don’t like the sound of the news, but there ain’t no way we turnin’ back now.

Noah decides he’s just gonna drop off and live off fishin’. Good luck with that, bro.

Man, 5-0 be everywhere out here, too. Grams was never right ever since Gramps passed on. She was sick ‘bout to die and some cop comes in the tent and tells us we got to go! Whassup with that! Tellin’ you, that’s what pushed her over the edge.

We got inspected by another cop once we got on the road and Ma tells them we in a rush to get her help, but I think we all knew... she was already gone. RIP Grams. You gone to a better place, I’m sure. Wish we could’ve given you better.

Writin’ this from Hooverville, CA. We made it here, but it ain’t as good as we’d hoped. And now we’re down two old-timers, my big bro, and a dog. I know what you’re sayin’ Bud. It can only get better from here.

Word to your moms, tune in next time.

Joadacious