The dandelions came back again, again!
Those golden-faced, nutrient-sucking bastards…
Somehow, the dandelions in my lawn have survived more direct toxin squirts than Wilford Brimley’s toilet bowl. By now, most of them look wriggled and weak, but still they return with the sunlight and gobble up my soil’s goodness from the lush, green grass I so cravenly desire. I’ve tried everything I know – poisoning them, uprooting them, yelling the worst swear words I know at them (even the really bad ones that my cousin Steve thought of). Nothing seems to get rid of those little yellow sons of bitches.
I suppose it’s time for me to admit defeat, like the Japanese military leaders after the fiery deaths of tens of thousands of its loyal citizens. As far as I can tell, my situation exactly parallels theirs.
So, tonight I will go home and kneel in subservience to my new dandelion rulers. Unable to imagine living under the oppressive dictat of the dandelion, I will begin to eat the dandelions one by one until my internal organs start to fail. After swallowing several dozen dandelions, the one-peaceful vision of my yard will begin to spin and distort unnaturally. Still, I will continue to pop dandelion heads in my mouth like they were Werther’s Originals. Barking my despairing, disoriented final words to startled passersby, I will then collapse face down on my lawn. With my final ounce of strength, I will vomit forth a vile, milky resin that will soak into the earth and destroy the dandelions from below, like Satan pulling them back to hell.
If you’re worried about this blog, I shall hand over control of it to one of my 7th grade geography students. You likely won’t notice a difference in content or quality.