The Cure for Spotting a Weed Farm Next to You
So Conor Woodmen of the Guardian has so kindly
let us all know how to spot a cannabis farm in a suburban mist, which has
inspired me to go on a one man vigilante mission to crack down on this growing
concern. Having grown up in a countryside village with neighbours living in
massive houses and owning flashy cars I always wondered how they afforded such
things.
“The latest Independent Drug Monitoring Unit
report suggests there are now as many as half a million people growing cannabis
in the UK, which equates to roughly one on every street. So how can you spot
the cannabis farm next door to you?” says Mr Woodmen. I knew it knew it, I knew
it.
I should have known it before just by knowing the
people round my way. They are so shady; going for walks with their dogs down a
country lane or two is clearly a scouting mission to find the best location to
grow. All of those family bike rides with the kids, clearly just a front to
hide what is really going on in those greenhouses. Growing tomatoes Mr.
Robinson? I think not.
So the first guidance is smell according to Mr.
Woodmen. A cannabis crop takes about three months to produce. During the final
four weeks, the plants stink. It always smells round my way. Suspicions
confirmed. Follow your nose is his instruction. So I did and the best way to do
this is to dim all of your other senses. So I closed my eyes sniffed around and
followed the stink in the air to its source. As I walked I moved away from the
cemented road to a squelch underfoot but I persisted knowing that the cause was
worthy, the stink got stronger and stronger as I got closer and closer. It was
quiet until I heard a “Moo” and I knew what it was. These growers don’t only
grow they use the drugs and are so out of it they think they are cows. The
stink was at it strongest now so I ducked my head down and opened my eyes;
another “Moo” was released as the culprit panicked due to the fact that I had
my nose up the rear end of a cow.
So, I made a quick exit, not wanting to get
arrested for bestiality or anything but still convinced that my neighbours are
criminal masterminds I did not give up, instead I remembered another two
factors, Heat and Light. Mr Woodmen says “Growers can't get away from the fact
that internal farming requires a lot of it: 2,000 watts running 12 hours a day
in a small bedroom looks a lot like the sun, so look out for windows that are
constantly blacked out to cover that up. Cannabis farms in spare rooms will
have the tell-tale sign of curtains that never open. Those lights also give off
a lot of heat”.
Jackpot, there is a house on my street just like
that with curtains always closed as a strange man-made light shines through it.
This must be it; time for a stake out and conveniently there is a tree right
out front of the house. I took my camera; photographic evidence would be useful
to catch this criminal. So there I was, up a tree, camera on the red alert as I
waited for something to happen.
After about twenty minutes or so the front door
opened and two women appeared saying “I’ll see you next time”. I was definitely
on to something here, a blatant drug dealer on the monthly pick up from her
supplier. So I snapped away knowing that if I gave these pictures to the police
they would have this drug dealers profile on record. She even looked the part
too in her baggy joggers wearing a white skull print cropped t-shirt from River
Island with a silver necklace dangling from her neck. It was just as if she was
in some Hip Hop video rapping about dealing drugs.
She carefully opened the car door as she did not
want to spoil her perfectly manicured nails, which she probably had done for
that trip to the Caribbean where she took two weeks out before jumping over to
Colombia to pick up the cocaine; all evidenced by her beautifully bronzed skin.
She drove away and I went snap, snap, snap with my camera to make sure I got
her number plate before waiting again.
It was only five minutes until another car turned
up; another female arose from her seat confirming my belief that this is a lady
only drug cartel. I was not surprised. I had always wondered what those
Wokingham Gossip Girls do all day with their comments of high spirits and
positivity. According to Mr Woodmen Good Neighbourliness is another sign of
having a grower next door. I’m on to you ladies. I am on to you.
To my fortune a gust of wind blew through the
spare bedroom window adjusting the curtain so I could see inside. The grower
walked in to the room gesturing to the lighted box, probably boasting about how
her product is so much better than that Gossip Guys grower on the next street
down the road. The drug dealer appeared wearing a white gown, or a towel. I
thought it was strange but then who am I to comment on how a drug dealer pays
for their goods?
The grower put her hand on the lid and again I started to snap away not wanting to miss a moment of the revelation of the cannabis that hid within yet only producing photographic evidence of a bikini clad lady climbing in a tanning bed to top up her tan.
The grower put her hand on the lid and again I started to snap away not wanting to miss a moment of the revelation of the cannabis that hid within yet only producing photographic evidence of a bikini clad lady climbing in a tanning bed to top up her tan.
In shock of unwittingly becoming a peeping tom I
fell with a scream. I got to my feet a bit flustered and started to leg it with
a shout of, “Oi, you dirty perv,” resonating through the peaceful evening.
Still I will discover who on my street is a
grower. So if anyone fancies joining me on my neighbourhood watch committee for
finding a Cannabis farm let me know.
Oh and here is the Conor Woodmen’s article if you
want to start your own.
NO COW, TREE OR WRITER WERE HURT IN THE MAKING OF THIS POST AS IT NEVER ACTUALLY HAPPENED.
NO COW, TREE OR WRITER WERE HURT IN THE MAKING OF THIS POST AS IT NEVER ACTUALLY HAPPENED.
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