introducing: biff
i bought a plant several weeks ago. i went into the store and announced that i had always wanted a plant, desperately, and loudly commented that if they didn't recommend a plant that could withstand weeks of unintentional neglect and possble outright abuse (also not wholly intentional, as everyone runs out of tp at some point), i may very well never love again.
the friendly man at the store half-smiled and asked me, the retarded child, to use my index finger to point at a plant i thought was pretty and may want to own.
i pointed to a rather boisterous and friendly looking plant close to my feet, and declared eloquently that it 'looked nice.'
'aha!' he said, relieved. 'that one is particularly hearty.'
excellent! i thought to myself.
i proceeded to then interrogate the other nice man working at the store about everything that i needed to know. and because i know nothing, i asked him everything.
does it need soil?
what size pot should it be in?
how often should i water it?
what will happen if i don't water it?
will it hate me?
will it write me a poor review on rotten tomatoes?
does it need fertilizer?
why?
how is it like plant food? i mean, seriously. what's in this? vitamins or some shit?
i bought the recommended sized pot, a big bag of soil, and a small container of fertilizer with a dropper cap. i was very excited.
and then i walked home many blocks, and by the time i got home my arms were tired and i was no longer excited.
i potted the new arrival in the bathtub, next to my loofah and salon shampoo. he looked a little foolish, but studio apartments do not often come with a nice yard in which it is pleasant to pot new plants.
thus, the new plant being in a new home with lots of new soil, i placed him carefully on my cream lacquered coffee table on top of a swedish dishcloth i bought from ikea. he looked so happy i left him and gave him an affectionate pat on the highest leaf.
because i live in a moderately sketchy area and i am a short-ish asian girl who is not at all menacing unless you've eaten the rest of my lunch, i decided that i needed tough guy to protect me, should a rude intruder make his/her way into my second floor studio.
introducing: biff.
the friendly man at the store half-smiled and asked me, the retarded child, to use my index finger to point at a plant i thought was pretty and may want to own.
i pointed to a rather boisterous and friendly looking plant close to my feet, and declared eloquently that it 'looked nice.'
'aha!' he said, relieved. 'that one is particularly hearty.'
excellent! i thought to myself.
i proceeded to then interrogate the other nice man working at the store about everything that i needed to know. and because i know nothing, i asked him everything.
does it need soil?
what size pot should it be in?
how often should i water it?
what will happen if i don't water it?
will it hate me?
will it write me a poor review on rotten tomatoes?
does it need fertilizer?
why?
how is it like plant food? i mean, seriously. what's in this? vitamins or some shit?
i bought the recommended sized pot, a big bag of soil, and a small container of fertilizer with a dropper cap. i was very excited.
and then i walked home many blocks, and by the time i got home my arms were tired and i was no longer excited.
i potted the new arrival in the bathtub, next to my loofah and salon shampoo. he looked a little foolish, but studio apartments do not often come with a nice yard in which it is pleasant to pot new plants.
thus, the new plant being in a new home with lots of new soil, i placed him carefully on my cream lacquered coffee table on top of a swedish dishcloth i bought from ikea. he looked so happy i left him and gave him an affectionate pat on the highest leaf.
because i live in a moderately sketchy area and i am a short-ish asian girl who is not at all menacing unless you've eaten the rest of my lunch, i decided that i needed tough guy to protect me, should a rude intruder make his/her way into my second floor studio.
introducing: biff.
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