You know, I hate them SO MUCH that a quick death just isn’t in their fate when I find them in MY garden. I. Want. Them. To. SUFFER! I want their FAMILIES to SUFFER. I want the word to go out, far and WIDE, that you do NOT mess with Ms. Diana’s Tomatoes. Period!
Yep. I’m MEAN that way, like a Junkyard Dawg! (But wearing a very pretty pink collar with all sorts of SPARKLY BLING on it, LOL!)
I knew I liked you for some reason...
Speaking of junkyard dawgs, I once knew one who was actually a very expensive obscure purebred. (Long story as to how she got junkyarded. LONG.) She was this dainty-looking snow-white creature of about 80 pounds, and they painted all her toenails sparkly pink. Said it gave the junkyard some class.
(For the dog fans, she was a livestock guardian dog and absolutely loved her new station in life. Hang in the office all day, prowl the premises all night.)