When I was a little girl, my mother worked part time in a ratty little flower shop behind the house. When she wasn’t busy daring me to touch the dead bodies when we delivered flowers for funerals, she was trying to convince me to stick my fingers in the mouths of Venus Fly Traps. And not to mention the time she gave me a Venus Fly Trap to give my grade 4 teacher. She said she thought it would be a “neat” gift-frankly, I think it was a little passive aggressive fuck you to a teacher she didn’t much like.
Either way.
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“Passive-aggressive”? No, I would just say that it’s clever.
Good on your mom.
Feed me, Seymour!
It’s awesome. You like?
THAT, is AWESOME. Very nice.
Awesome! I’m so jealous, you get new tats all the time. I haven’t had a new one in 3 years. Poor me, huh.
ok, now that is fucking awesome.
And now we know where you get your macabre sense of humor.
Ewww…roar! I guessing the rest of your body looks like that!
I’m such a chicken-shit. Oh, I’d touch a dead body. Or put a finger in a Venus fly-trap. But get a tat? Yeah, I’m a chicken-shit.
oh man, i missed this totally! dude. can i – following Hannah’s comment above – call it Audrey?
i think most flower shops these days use plant food to extend the life of cut flowers,–