So a fellow inherits some land from his mother in Nolalu. After growing pot on it for a few years, he sells it to a buddy and heads for Central America, where he travels about for a few years with a couple of girlfriends.
One of the girlfriends wanders off, so he marries the remaining girlfriend, and they move into a sailboat that she inherited from her father in Florida. Eventually she sells it and they move back to Nolalu, where he builds a shack out of found materials on the land that he had previously sold to his Buddy.
Allegedly, they subsist by growing and selling pot. Despite being arrested repeatedly, they always get off by claiming that it is the Buddy who is growing, not them. Similarly, every time the Buddy gets arrested, he gets off by claiming that it is the squatters who are growing, not him. The arrests cause friction between Buddy and the squatters, but it’s hard to stay angry for too long with your toking pals.
The squatters integrate so well back into the community that they start spouse swapping. This eventually leads to divorces, when after a period of many years, an ongoing swap with another couple turns sour and each spouse moves in permanently with the other couple’s spouse, although everyone still regularly sleeps with everyone else despite the divorces.
That’s when the squatter wife sues her husband for a matrimonial division of the property owned by the fellow’s Buddy, including the shack with running water. The husband’s defence includes “the only thing running about the water was me running back and forth with buckets to the creek.” She also sued for support based on income derived from their “garden” (their alleged pot growing enterprise), and from his busking (he is not a bad street-corner guitar player and singer). Meanwhile, the Buddy who owned the land was wondering how in hell a squatter’s wife could sue a squatter for land that neither of them owned or had a right to be on. Despite the lawsuit between the squatters, and the great concern Buddy has about claims against his land, and the two couples having permanently swapped spouses, everyone is still going at it like rabbits with each other, and toking like fiends.
The property claim against the husband was dropped following examinations, when the wife’s lawyer decided that it would be futile to proceed against the husband in court because “he looks just like Jesus Christ,” which he does. In fact, the lot of them are all very physically attractive, well spoken and interesting hippies.
So if you are ever in Nolalu, and see a fellow who looks just like Jesus Christ wandering about playing a guitar, your doorway to pot smoking and fornication with various members of either sex, either individually or collectively, is now wide open.
That’s Nolalu.
To put it another way, yesterday when I momentarily confused the village of Nolalu with the nearby village of Hymers, my client exclaimed “Oh god! No, I’m not from Nolalu, I’m from Hymers! I’m not one of THEM!”