A long time ago in a faraway place, there once lived an order of monks who operated an inner-city monastery. They grew hemp and manufactured hemp robes, which they sold to other monastic orders.
The monks were generally content with life. However, there was one monk named Ja Winston who was especially rebellious and at war with himself. One cold, winter night Ja Winston was crisscrossing the monastery grounds looking for a secluded place to drink a bootleg bottle of hooch, which was illegal at the time.
Ja Winston was dissapointed to find monks loitering at all of his usual haunts. As a last resort he went out back to the dumpster area by the recieving dock because nobody ever went out there. He had just settled his rear on an upturned milk crate and took his first bitter sweet taste of alcohol when Headmaster Judah stepped out of the shadows.
Ja Winston froze with the bottle in his mouth. Too afraid to move, he stayed in that position waiting for the head master to have the first word, but the head master didn’t say anything. He just tilted his head like he was listening to a blue bird singing.
They sat there frozen in crooked poses until a baby’s cry broke the stillness. The head master spun on his heel and opened the dumpster next to him. Inside was a little baby white boy wrapped in dish rags.
Ja Winston took the little white baby out of the dumpster and left his bottle of alcohol in the child’s place. Headmaster Judah looked at Ja Winston and said, “Ja Winston. I know what’s going to straighten you out. You’re going to raise dis baby into a man. You’re a father now. Act like it. So what are you going to name your son?”
Ja Winston stuttered and said, “Uh,