So, I was mowing the lawn and shaving the moss down to an acceptable height, when I came across a tiny oak sapling that had taken root by the washing line.
Rather than run it over and shred it into a million tiny pieces, I dug it up, put it in a pot full of compost and stuck it at the end of the garden. It will presumably die slowly under a shower of dog piss, but for the moment, he's called Groot and is my pride and joy.
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| I AM GROOT |
All I need now is a talking raccoon, Zoe Saldana and a roving space git, and my Guardians of the Galaxy team will be complete. Saldana's looking the tricky one.
5 comments:
That would make you Drax the Destroyer then ,
You sentimental old greeny you. Personally I don't like trees as they stare so and insinuate. I would advocate a scorched earth policy. Sow liberally with a broad acting herbicide and then concrete over the result. While you are at it you could bung on some DTT to get rid of all those pesky critters and the neighbour's cat. You could paint it green. If you leave the dead cats in situ you will have some tastefully erected ornaments at no extra cost.
Put the pot on some bricks or blocks or some shit like that - anything, basically, that puts it above Wilson's piss level.
Mr Mallard, I forgot to attach my doggerel with regard to DDT (I am, after all, a dozy twat). Or is it fine prose- only I can judge. I digress. Here it is for delectation and stuff. Arse.
Ode to DDT
O, DDT where are you now, when we need you the most,
I sprayed you on my tomatoes, I sprayed you on my toast.
You killed the diptera, hymenoptera and all orders under the sun,
Watching the buggers wriggle, jump and jiggle was always so much fun.
The wasteland you produced gave me such a thrill,
The pleasure of watching things die quickens my pulse still.
O, DDT it is time for you to make a comeback,
The insecticides of today are weak and indiscriminate powers do lack.
The local rats, the neighbour’s cat, have all to Vallhalla gone,
I can’t think of a suitable end to this rhyme so I’m just going to say, Herbert Lom.
You are but a short step away from bonsai and the friendless insanity that it entails.
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