Thereís an anxious disquiet in my spirit. Not a week passes where I donít feel sickened by the ways of the world its impassive people and by that soap scum that builds up along the chrome that seats glass shower doors (I clean it. It comes back. I clean it. It comes back. Itís a weed only it doesnít look like a cute little yellow daisy) Goes beyond reading the paper to find out that a few depraved characters would calculate shooting someone in the head for money to go buy chicken wings. $36 is the price of a life today. (Debbie, $36 dollars is the annual per capita income in Nicaragua. True, but it costs $100 to import good chicken wings) I find this heinous crime even more revolting since the victim was a pizza delivery guy and pizza is my favorite food (To me, this guy was doing the Lordís work. Why the assailants didnít just grab and make away with the yummy pie, you got me). Iím thinking- couldnít you just go into a wing place, even in a poor neighborhood, flash your weapon and say ďI plan to shoot someone for wing money. You can prevent this act of gross and senseless violence by simply giving me yesterdayís wings, a medium 7up, and donít be skimping on the napkins.Ē It shouldnít surprise anyone that the perps each had horrendous rap sheets listing offenses on a completely different order than ďwalked across private lawn, stomping Mrs. Thortonís little yellow daisy garden in the process.Ē Whereís the love?
Oh, you have to hear this. The story of Halle and Herbert begins here. My two plants.
Halle is rather reluctant to flourish. I donít exactly have a green thumb, even when I read the directions on the plant and wear fake gold rings. Recently when my mother was visiting I told her to take Halle. That I was strictly a no fuss cactus person. Right about then I couldíve sworn Halle started to droop. So I couldnít do it. Now Iím stuck with her.
I decided to make the best of it by telling Halle every day that I love her. Herbert is far more secure in my feelings for him. I believe that my proclamations of affection are going to help Halle grow. Maybe you want that I should make some kind of guinea pig out of Herbert by telling him daily that I hate him. Think again plant hater, you vegetarian, ye destroyer of daisies! Also worth noting is that I replanted Halle in a pot thatís way too big, hoping the framework for expansion will facilitate and ultimately actuate a successful transition into new regional markets. Iím simply way oversensitive and itís not just to living things. Once a boyfriend of mine brought me home a stuffed animal knowing full well I had way more than I could house. To this day my mother believes that the reason Iím such a still sleeper is because as a kid Iíd bunk in with no less than 100 stuffed animals that I didnít think enjoyed lying down on a hard display shelf without so much as a pillow or a blanket (the fake fur is deceptively thin). This past boyfriend of mine was a garbage collector (it just occurred to me that this may reflect poorly on my own worth) and one day he hands me this large junky Christmas reindeer that someone at work was ready to throw out. I was in the midst of following suit when said Christmas reindeer pouted at me thus saving himself from a seedy life at the local landfill. A sad anthropomorphic ďadopt meĒ grimace and Iím transformed into this animist fool whoís thinking that if I chuck this thing out Iím never getting jack s**t from Santa. Bears repeating- be kind to your fellowman. Alot of them are packing.

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