The Ho Chi Minh Weeds

My rating: 5 out of 5

It was like a film of the Red jungle. Dense vegetation—weeds, in this case—stretched on for what seemed like miles. My napalm canister of a gloved hand descended, wreaking havoc on the tangled mass.

And yet this heavy weaponry isn’t combustible. No, these hands are like the converse neutron bomb—complete annihilation of the infrastructure, yet no villagers are harmed. Every ant and pillbug survives.

Spiders? Oh, ho ho ho. We don’t kill spiders ‘round here, sonny. We have a little understanding. They stay out of my dreams, I stay out of their way.

Time to go back to work? That is unfortunate. The rest will have to wait until next time.

I love the smell of yard waste in the morning.

By Marc Carson, Friday April 20, 2012.
Filed under: Weeding