Let’s Grow Some Shit!

So, I must confess before this endeavor is not only posed, but also carried out – I have a tendency of killing plant life with my mind. Seriously, when I look at my lawn, something green dies, whilst simultaneously, several unseen bushes of something heathenous sprout and run rampant into the neighboring lawns (ie, poison ivy, dandelions, that douche bag bush and that other douche bag bush). Still, due to the gift giving of a dear friend and the over achieving tendencies my daughter brings home from school, I somehow managed to have a Pea sprouting on my windowsill and a beautiful midget purple Orchid on my desk.

This was the beginning of the end. Soon, I was researching Orchids and buying up seed packets at my local Five Below, along with six or seven different objects that I felt compelled to buy despite an absolute lack of need. (Of course I need that ceiling fan broom! It’s five dollars! Wait, we don’t have ceiling fans?) Now, I have no less than five Orchids of various color and size, a tomato plant, and seedlings of all sorts and an unnatural knowledge of how one pickles their own…err…pickles! (My Basil is sprouting, as is the Lucky Clover, and don’t even get me started on the Pea.)

Now, as a result of the somehow contagious over achieving tendceny, I’ve decided to embark on – duh duh duh – a rooftop garden! What does this entail you ask? Well, hopefully having some plant life that doesn’t get gnoshed on by a herd of douche bag Groundhogs that are happily nesting near my basement hatch. Feckers. BUT more importantly, hopefully it entails me having a batch of delicious strawberries in the next few weeks! And Pickles! Fingers crossed!

If you listen closely, you might hear this whore tomato whispering, “Eat me.”

I’m going to pluck this bad mama jama and then I’m going to destroy it – by feeding it to my six year old child. It’s her tomato plant, it’s only fair.

Still, when I pickle those pickles, I will share with NO ONE! Well, no – not true, I’ll want to share to prove how delectable my home grown pickles are. This whole Green Thumb thing is surprisingly nourishing to the soul. Well, as long as I don’t kill anything. That probably won’t go over too well – you know, with the soul.

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