You - "I wish he'd blog about the rugged, ruthless nighttime aspect of gardening..."

I was sleeping quietly near the garden protecting my babies like I do 17 other hours of the day.

 

Pretty sweet eh?  My eyes are closed!  I made those eyes out of raccoon bone to make it seem like I’m awake.   That gun?  Not even there, it’s an optical illusion.  I had my buddy rig it up. 

 

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

I couldn’t see much with my headlight so I used the flash of my camera carefully.

I guided my gun slowly towards his face.  The gun the only thing between me and this heartless savage...

Ew… In MY (pretty) garden….

a…

HIPSTER?

This short pant wearing, pseudo-environmentalist, bisexually promiscuous, mid to late 20’s ager, drugs doctors’ prescribed in the 1930’s usin', MSTRKRFT LSTNNG, Queen West hangin’ (In Toronto, ONTARIO, CANADA)* , dancin’, Meat hatin’, Falafel lovin’, Ruining classic records to make them sound inferior DJin', they smell, blog readin' (and I do thank you for that), drunken, mindless pontificatin’, unintentionally shallow seemin’, cause lovin’, art show in a rank bar havin’, coffeeshop lovin’, ipod imbedded, drum and bass listenin’, Power Rangers watchin’, sports hatin’ ** dance where you grab your knee towards your head as a joke doin’,  buskin’, corporation hatin’, hummus makin’, Yoga zenin’, hypocritically facebook hatin', dancin', green tea drinkin’, twitterin’***,   horrible human is gardening in my pretty garden?

Oh, It’s my buddy Mike Reynolds. 

He’s cool.

We were housemates for a few years.   (it was an amicable split, he wanted to find a cheaper place; I wanted kids.) 

Now I remember I told him we should nighttime garden tonight.  And it was only 10PM.

 

Want a bio(graphy)?

Name: Mike Reynold(s)

Age: ?

Skills: Gardening, digderoo

Weaknesses: See Above

Asterisk Section:

*for my international fanbase

** How? How on earth? They are so fun.

 ***Twitter’s popularity lies in the brevity of each entry.

Why would you want to write less?  I don’t get the logic.  Everything is funnier when you bash it into someone’s face incessantly, needlessly spewing the same jargon over and over again.  Every reader knows the humour comes when you multiply everything you’re saying in ways that not only lack narrative progression but seem redundant and meaningless.  Getting a laugh out of someone should be a convoluted, repetitive task the writer succeeds at by deciphering nothing but typing something.  With that special something a writer has his Achilles’ heel in armour so protective nothing but the most cyclical reoccurrences could damage it.  Articulating one’s thoughts is a gift best left unwrapped, contained so that the joy comes from the anticipation of a myriad of disconnected reflections and not from the unwrapping of said gift. 

 This has unwrapped.  I could not twitter.

 

FYI – I wrote every essay (and many that were not mine) in this same way.  With absolutely impeccable results. 

POST SECONDARY EDUCATION!