I know plants need you to grow and shit, but do you have to rub it in our faces (especially my right eye, which is almost swollen shut because of your need to be front and center)? I swear, you’re just like John Mayer or Speidi: stop talking about you for a minute and you have to whip up a new controversy to get carried along in the wind. Get over yourself and let something else shine for once. Have you ever considered that mold spores might like a moment now and again?
I don’t mean to be a major ragweed but enough is enough. I’m tired—seriously, I need a nap—of breathing only through my mouth. It’s time to make hay, not hay fever, while the sun shines, which means I need to wash you and your allergen pals outta my hair, off of my skin, and down the drain. I’m going to drown your greedy sinus-squatting ass in vats of antihistimines and decongestants. Maybe that’ll teach you to keep to your turf and fertilize flora, not my nasal passages…microscopic bitch.
It feels good to finally get that out of my system.