I composed a little diddy today, dedicated to the weeds in my back yard. I like to call it "Die Weeds Die"
Die weeds die,
Die, die, die!
Die weeds, die
Die you #$%& things, DIE!
[repeat verse 47 times while pulling weeds]
after 48 repetitions devolve into cackling "die, die,die, DIE!"
I think my family is in reverent awe of my musical genius. At least that is how I am interpreting their stunned looks and quick retreat into the house as I capered about the back lawn clutching double handfuls of no-longer-resident-in-my-lawn, miserable GREEN INTRUDERS, DIE YOU FILTHY CHLOROPHYLL SOAKED SCUM, HAH!
Well, anyway, I think it'll rain too much for me to finish tomorrow...
It's good to see you've made a smooth adjustment back to civilian life, Major John.
ReplyDeleteOh, Major John--
ReplyDeleteWeeds have feelings, too.