30/01/2026
A DEA officer stopped at my farm yesterday.
“I need to inspect your property for illegal drug cultivation,” he said.
I replied, “That’s fine—but don’t go into that field over there.”
He immediately blew up.
“Mister, I have the authority of the federal government!” He reached into his back pocket, pulled out his badge, and shoved it in my face. “See this fu***ng badge? This badge means I can go wherever I want—on any land. No questions asked. No answers given. Do I make myself clear?”
I nodded politely, apologized, and went back to my chores.
A little while later, I heard screaming.
I looked up to see the DEA officer running for his life, with my big, mean bull charging right behind him. With every step, the bull was closing the distance. It looked like the officer was seconds away from getting gored. He was absolutely terrified.
So I dropped my tools, ran to the fence, and shouted at the top of my lungs:
“Your badge! Show him your fu***ng badge!”
