I'm very proud of my boys. My boys mean the world to me. Here's my special boy:
He's a big boy. Who'sa big boy? YOU'sa big boy! Yes, that's right! Bend over, big boy!
Yesssssss... Ahem. The actual subjects of this blog entry, of course, are the literal fruits of our labors. As you can see, we grew several different varieties: the big guy is either a black krim or a cherokee purple (we can't tell the difference so good), and then you've got your jelly beans and your yellow pears struggling for dominance among the hoi polloi. Our greenhouse is indeed a madhouse. Except that we don't really have a greenhouse; I just wanted to lay down the old-school metrics, knowha'msay'n?My rhyme scheme
Is like a trireme:
Gonna take you out to sea
And sink like in Civ III.
Now ya over ya head, chump -
Betta get out ya sump pump.
'Scuse me while I take a d___.
By the way, did I mention that my mom reads this blog? Hi mom!
2 comments:
nice rhyme. i'm back home. we need to get together and lay down some tracks.
edward weston is a tag for that post because...?
"Edward Weston" because the picture of the big tomato from underneath is like a parody of one of his famous pictures of peppers.
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