Heidi Hall’s Congressional Woke Wipeout: Romp of Constitutional Kicks, DUI Boogies, Taxpayer Treasure, and Progressive Puffery
Grab your hemp-infused kombucha, Nevada County, and spark your organic cackles, because Heidi Hall, our wokest warrior queen, is preaching her way to Congress in a campaign against Kevin Kiley that’s less “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington” and more “Dazed and Confused.” Your ol’ pal Rusty Dankbud, the ganja-guru of local lunacy, was toking on some primo “Sierra Skunk” when I sniffed out this fiasco weeks ago, catching wind of Hall’s campaign launch: interpretive dance, a “Trump-Free” vegan potluck, and a cloud of self-righteous vibes thicker than the haze in my backyard grow tent. Now, with her hemp beret—or maybe her “end the patriarchy” fanny pack—chucked into the ring, Hall’s progressive pilgrimage is a quinoa-crusted kerfuffle of constitutional shade, parking lot DUI disco, double-dipped taxpayer treasure, and a dogma so woke it could lecture a compost bin. Let’s blaze through this fair-trade flop, with ol’ Rusty’s bong bubbling for inspiration!
DUI in Little League Parking Lot
First, the plot thickens, and so does the fog, with Hall’s wild drunken ride through Condon Park. After her local Democrat Party event caper with Rep. Ami Bera, Hall turned a quiet parking lot in Grass Valley into a woke raver’s daydream. After little leaguers split from their night games at Condon Park in Grass Valley, Heidi swerved through like she was headlining a Burning Man parade, her Prius grooving to a “Trump-Free” playlist, fueled by a blood alcohol level three times above the legal limit. Locals swear she was chanting about “smashing the patriarchy” as deputies rolled up, her eyes glossier than my favorite glass pipe after a session with “Nevada Nebula.” If Hall’s campaign cruises like that her drunken parking lot jig, Kiley’s probably already picking out his D.C. desk, far from her kale-munching missteps.
Double Dipping Taxpayer Dollars
Then there’s the cash—oh, sweet, sticky taxpayer green. Hall’s been double-dipping like she’s hoarding avocado toast at a co-op buffet, juggling her Nevada County Supervisor gig with a plush Program Manager role at the California Department of Water Resources. From 2017 to June 2023, she pocketed over $800,000 in pay and benefits from the state job, all while claiming her supervisor role was “part-time.” Hilarious, since the 2008 Grand Jury and a 2022 TED Talk by Caleb Dardick called that gig a “seven-day-a-week” grind, demanding over 40 hours. Hall only ditched her state job before her 2024 re-election bid, probably hoping voters were too busy composting to notice her wallet was stuffed with public green. This echoes Kathleen Smith’s 2007 moonlighting scandal, but with a patchouli-soaked funk. Heidi, if you’re gonna fleece the system, don’t leave a trail of chia seeds, or I’ll spot it faster than I spot a fresh bud of “Moonlit Mendo”!
“Constitution? Bluntstitution!”
Then, Hall’s throwing shade at the Constitution like it’s a non-vegan yoga mat. At a League of Women Voters forum, she sneered, “Constitution? Bluntstitution!”—as if it’s only good for scribbling her next intersectional manifesto. This zinger dropped while she pooh-poohed a lawsuit by a local resident demanding public election records. Hall branded it a “conspiracy-motivated attack on our elections,” but the court wasn’t buying her gluten-free gibberish. On June 21, 2023, they ordered Nevada County to pass around redacted records and slapped them with an $85,000 attorney-fee bill for bogarting the truth. Picture Hall in Congress, swearing an oath to that “Bluntstitution” she trashes, probably sneaking off to a mindfulness retreat to realign her chakras while I’m chiefing on some “Cosmic Kush” for clarity.
Voters are sidestepping Hall’s campaign like it’s a non-recyclable straw. “Her run’s fizzling faster than a kombucha keg at a cancel culture convention,” quips a Grass Valley local. A Nevada City resident chimes in, “That campaign’s like a stale pre-roll from a woke open mic—nobody’s biting.” Her “Trump-Free” potluck might draw a few tie-dye enthusiasts, but those interpretive dancers better dodge when she’s surfing that progressive wave in the parking lot.
Kevin Kiley, meanwhile, is just chilling, probably sipping herbal tea and wondering how he got dragged into this woke whirlwind of reefer madness. Hall’s preaching, “Vote for me, I’ll shade the Constitution, boogie for kombucha, swerve through lots, pocket two paychecks, and preach the equity!” Nevada County voters aren’t lost in a haze—they’ll see through this fog quicker than I spot a trichome under my loupe. Her run is less a campaign and more a kale-fueled faceplant, proving not every woke warrior’s ready to swap the megaphone for the ballot. As she twirls toward Election Day, trailed by scandal and a whiff of sanctimony, Kiley’s probably thanking his reusable straw he’s not riding shotgun in this clown caravan. Stay righteous, folks—Rusty’s got his nose in the wind, toking on “Dank Dream” to keep this joint funky!
[Rusty Dankbud’s my name, puffing out parody—every word’s a silly puff of fun!]
