Mom said I should plant ferns in my ears but I don't know why. So anyhow, they kind of tickle.
Why is it that plants like to eat shit? Mom never explained that to me and Dad only drank beer and the cat only napped.
The leaves of autumn have found a home in my closet, and I can't say why,* although they do add a certain counterbalance to my bargain-basement nubbin collection. * Sorry — undisclosable contractual obligation at work here.
Extraneous ants have taken up residence among my tropical plants. I shall move soon lest they find tempting my baggy, thrice-pleated pants.
Captain Automatic prefers his underwear to have a sturdy elastic band in it, preferably running horizontally, and easily removable whenever the urgent need for a slingshot arises, which also necessitates the need to carry a Y-shaped stick, a little leather pouch (handy for some other things as well) and a pocket full of stones. But no permit needed, so that makes up for some of the inconvenience. As always, though, don't forget your pants. No pro leaves home without them.
I do have nice pointy bits out on the tips of my leaves. Want to come over and get poked?
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Me? Found a kazoo stuck in my butt this morning. Saw the cat smirking. Makes me wonder.
