… the grass is riz. I wonder where the birdies is?
Hah, it’s time for my annual mention of the come trees! Have you been holding your breath waiting for it? There’s a pun in there, but I’m *not* going for it.
For the uninitiated: We have two ornamental pear trees in the yard. (Super messy as you can see here) When they hit full bloom they honest-to-God smell exactly like human male come.
Really! I go out and inhale the fragrance and am simultaneously overcome with spring-time lust and gross-out heebie jeebies because it’s nobody’s “fragrance” I know. It’s like finding a hidden come-filled sock behind the couch and not knowing who belongs to either the sock or the jizz.
Not that I would know what that’s like, I mean, I’m just sayin’.
Here’s the tree culprit, the white one -you can click the little pic to get a bigger view (Do I need to keep repeating that or does everyone on the planet finally know things like that???).