Night bloomers are swell. Flowers are swell. I like flowers. Smack. "Mmmmmwaaaaaah!"
Rhodies have such a hugely diverse structure and bloom, that the crem are really cremmy. One can split hares, and still have 500 Different Favorites.
I know some really wonderful people, like me, who can sit among the 100,000 and get all worked up, and just Shakespeare v. Aesthetic eloquence. Discernment. Lookers. Pampers. I like to hang out with them, well I used to, til I went nuts. Like scientist-type collectors. (Although "collector" sounds really kind of negative, snootfull; these people aren't.) Wonderers. Twinklers.
Lawn twinklers.
Garden twinklers.
And the plants are worth it. They can't hum any louder. "Yoo hooo!" "Hey!"
"Hey fathead!"
I like desert plants too. Especially. And African, and tropical, and Mediterranean. Orchids and succulents. I can't enjoy arctic plants. Loosers.
I want to see what kind of fish they have in Jupiter.
We should be packing bags for that. But no; more B-1z's. There's wet powder. Phooey. Uh-oh; sorry.
I like flowers. Plants. They're august. I think it's sissies who don't like them. I know a sissy when I see one.
You want to come over and play? |
