Then I Was Like, I Just Got to Pick the Tree

"They were not paying me to pick cherries. They were paying me for entertainment as I fumbled around scraping my arms trying to climb this goddamn tree," he says. "The only thing I remember seeing a big pile of shit that was besides a giant compost heap is your dad, getting him roasted on an octa-tonic playlist." He adds: "I don't think they used it for well, maybe they might have had some like crops grown down the other side of the thing"