Rather be Square

 

Whoville today

 Other residents of Whoville you never hear about:

Cunty-Loo Who

Who was at least 52

A Ho thru & thru

Why, she'd even do you!

The Itchy Bum Song

 

We all know it

Walking down the street on a rainy day

You feel that familiar twitch

We all know it but we don’t show it

It’s that shifty bum crack itch.

 

It starts in the middle with a little tickle

And it spreads out from there

You clench your cheeks but still it sneaks

Up and down your puckered derriere.

 

Your smile’s a rictus, the dread pruritus

Is causing you no pain

But if you don’t choose it, you’re going to lose it

And go completely insane.

 

You’re out of options, your anus throbbing

You crab-walk to a tree

The bears all do it, there’s nothing to it

They scratch for all eternity.

 

It’s a clear consensus, you’re not an ursus

Your butt continues to wail

Unless you’re right bent, there is no treatment

Quite like your fingernails.

A spider up the bell

A spider up the bell

A spider up the bell 

 Hi-ho, arachnid go 

 A spider up the bell

Cross orb weaver - YouTube

I could be lying

I could be lying When I am crying I could be telling tails Out of school Playing fast With the rules I could be, I could be But what are the odds That I'm a fraud? Well, that's a twist You'll have to risk If you want To be close to me And you'd better be ready For an aroma quite heady Coming from my poop and from my pee I'll lick my fur And I'll purr As I scratch your furniture 'Cause I'm a cat, I'm a brat (Some say twat, so there's that) And you'll never Ever Own me.

Planting native species

Farkas paused over the hole she'd just dug. It was about six inches deep and water had already started seeping in, without any help from her, thank you very much. She sat back on her haunches and waited for the water to sink back into the soil. A chickadee called off to her left, but chicka'd only two dees, so it wasn't upset, just chatty. She looked back to the hole and almost all the water was gone. She picked up the pot and up ended it over the hole, giving it gentle but firm pats all along the sides and bottom of the plastic pot to loosen the soil.  Any soil that fell through her gloved fingers fell into the moist hole. She extracted the plant, a bloodroot, and felt the satisfying suction as the roots came loose from the pot. She sprinkled mycorrhizal fungi all over the roots, popped it into the hole, and centred it. She heaped the soil around the plant, pressing down gently and making a small well. She watered again.

Again she sat back on her haunches, and tapped the pot to get the last of the soil out. 

He'd gone to high school with her. He'd been an asshole even then. He'd grown into an even larger puckered buttpit when he went into real estate and eventually, opened his own development firm, his only aim in life to make money. 

Hard to believe they still hadn't found him yet.