I AM listening to some real shit acid rock music thanks to Neo, my former Michelin tires icon neighbor, he has lost some weight. Earlier it was his shitty amateurish trap drums exercises for mentally retarded kids. He thinks he is a 'musician' because he hit the drums with stick.
Earlier, I had to climb the garage roof with a 15' ladder broom in hand, dust pan and collapsible trash can to sweep and collect the Tabebuia leaf carpet. This tree, of beautiful flowers, strong wood is called oak, but nothing to do with the real ones, planted 3' feet from our property in where else but community criminal
Sagrado Corazon U, where stupidity
The leaves fall continually. When it rains they clog constantly the narrow minded installed drain. Only god knows
for how much longer I will be able to do the climbing.
Later, this feels like a twitter post,I had to pull out an 7' tall Dracaena marginata, one of two from me days in Bayamon city, from its fiberglass pot. A couple of roots protruded from a crack, previously thought as surface decoration.
The procedure consisted of taking off the soil with a trowel in 360 degrees. Once this was done I inclined and pulled out the patient. With the required spade, got rid of one third of the root ball.
I left a couple of inches of soil in the pot, adding two thirds of me compost, earth worms and all, but not before covering the crack as needed. It looks nice and healthy, as if nothing stressful had really happened.
Then it was sweeping the four cardinal sides of the residence to eliminate the leaves left all over by Earl. A couple of plants substituted those damaged by our culprit in the west garden, Turnera ulmiforme and Catharantus roseus.
Now, Neo, the former pasty Michelin icon, is playing with one of those car racing video games. I can hear changing of gears all the way up. God damn this fatty useless bum and his wife, Squeaky. She has a turtle style body figure. With a high pitch voice and laugh. Pretty similar to the laugh of a jackals and the cantaloupe breasts close by the collarbone.
The above epilogue has to be the closest I have been to literature...Apaga i vamonoh.
A blog about flora and fauna, besides creative horticultural criticism, photography of the garden and beyond in an urban context. All its possibilities within crowded concrete/asphalt realities, aesthetics and its murder farther along the self.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
A PRODUCT OF IRRITATION POST
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