Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Freaking Faeries

I swear, every time I'm out gardening, all the freaking faeries are out there, dusting little pixie stuff on the dandelions and coaxing mosquitoes to come out and get the juicy balding morsel out in the zucchinis. I could murder the little twerps.

And then they make me forget they're there, and go off to torment the dog and my garden gnome with their flashy wings, dazzling Dentyne smiles and curvy little behinds that remind you of your sister's Barbie back in sixth grade.

Sure, they're harmless. Cute. They're good for the environment (pray Dick Cheney or the jerks over at BP Amoco never get hold of them and shoot them, or worse, slather them in oil).

And they make good crow bait. You just can't have enough crows in your yard, keeping the area free of dead animal carcasses. But sure, let Disney put them in a show and now everyone thinks they're Tinker Bell, or some other fool thing.

But they don't have me fooled. I know what they really are. And I'm a writer. I'm going to tell everyone about them...

I'm going to...

"Hey, what are you doing, you freaking faeries. Get away from me!"

"Don't spread that forget-me dust on me!"




What was I talking about?


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