Alright, so, there's these wood's. In them are trees and water and other things because they're wood's and no wood's call their self that without trees and water and other things but this isn't about that, pay attention.

This is About Trees

Some tall and some massive
Some fall and some flaccid
All are attracted to spring

Some lean and some won't
Some sing and some don't
All claim to know everything

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So, anyway, trees and branches and sticks and they're all flailing around effortlessly like windsocks at the airport. Sun rays, spider webs, they're all there.

Sun rays go, "man, I really dig your legs" and the wood's go, "thanks, sun rays!"

Spider webs go, "Ima weave a web right here" and the wood's go, "make yourself at home, spider webs!"

Harmonious.

Glorious.

Thesaurus ran out of ways to describe the place. And then they got wind of another wood's.

Lurking, across the pond.

In the other one are more females and they're hotter and taller, stronger and nicer and blow sexier than all the other female trees.

Discontent brewed.

Rumors simmered like crock pot dining.

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The young male wood's made a pact—took up a petition and went, "LOOK! All the single female trees here grow sideways anyway. My roots haven't seen sunlight since only broccoli smelled like farts."

Yeah!

Yeah!

Instant approval—ratings through the roof. The lot of male wood's in attendance agreed unanimously and, by next light, a plan was hatched:

Hush Money

Cross the pond when horizon's gone
Enemy fast asleep
Creep stealthily in winter wear
Lighter than a whisper on their feet

In one round attack from the south
Enemy buried in boulders
Return victoriously each male tree
With a female over his shoulder

They need a leader. A sharp wood with a mind like an elephant and hung like a donkey. One who can navigate across the pond in the dark and return successfully with zero casualties and more females than all the other wood's combined.

"Joe!" They exclaimed. Half the wood's insisted Joe lead them across the pond and the other half was like "fuck, Joe!! He's a fuckin idiot! Dude can't complete a sentence and he's always fumbling at air like he can't find the light switch."

"He's too old, what is he, 1,000!?" Another young wood chimed in. "He'll die before we get there" said another. "Whoever follows Joe deserves to drown" shouts another and the wood's were divided.

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"If not Joe, then who?" Cries the tallest wood in the wood's. "We need a competent leader!"

"Just not Joe, he's older than penicillin. Gonna fall any day."

"Joe sucks!"

And then another wood stood tall and was all, "what about Don? Cheeky wood with the nest up top who's better than everyone and knows everything."

"Yeah, him!!" Another emerged from the woodwork, "he grabs women by the pussy, it's all over the internet!"

"Don?!" Interrupts a Joe, "he was found guilty of sexual miscondu..." ..Female tree sprouts up out of nowhere, "yeah, Don! Assault, misogyny, narcissist, ALL that shit! I wanna suck his Nixon!!"

The Joe's don't know what to do, they thought they had this one in the bag—panic mode sets in.

The Don's are like, everything he says is a lie and it's working, "bring it home Don!" Porn stars bought with campaign money and they still follow like herpes.

"34 felonies!" Another Joe shouts. "I can't run in place with ONE felony and this clown's running for..."

"..I'd rather a felon than a corpse!"

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This is what happens when I haven't posted for awhile and instead do things like hang out with my imagination. Crazy, right? Imagination, that is. I mean, seriously, a dead guy vs a sex offender for the championship belt of the wood's?? LoL. Yeah, right. Like that'll ever happen.

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