Why I don't like plastic flowers

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OK, so you're reading this article (I hope. If not you won't know that it says that, so you won't be able to disagree), probably because you want to know (so that that way you won't not know) why I (as opposed to anybody else, except Chuck Norris. Nobody opposes Chuck Norris.) don't like plastic flowers (and I really don't, you know).

Plastic flower.jpg.jpeg

the reason[edit | edit source]

All right Joe Giaco, here goes (unless here wants to stay, in which case there can go instead): I don't like plastic flowers (you know the kind I'm talking about, right? like the ones where you see it from a distance and you say "Ooh! a pretty flower!" only when you get a little bit closer, you notice it doesn't really have a smell [and if it does, it isn't a particularly nice smell anyway], and when you get a little bit closer than that, you realize it's [Ooh, I used the wrong its. That's right, you heard me, I did it on purpose. What are you gonna do, sue me?] colors are a bit faded, and when you get a little bit closer still, you realize that its [that's right, I did it again!] unusually shiny, and when you get even closer than that, you realize it doesn't taste all that good either.) because, you see (unless you are blind, and i hope you aren't, because if so, you aren't really reading this article, you're just pretending to, and I really don't like fakers. One time someone came along pretending to be something they were, and I did something really mean to them. Really truly. Believe me, it was pretty gruesome. The only thing more gruesome was the time that my head exploded, and my brains got all over the place. Because I really do have brains. I really truly do.), they (not them. Them is a movie about a bunch of giant ants that go around eating people, even though they don't have mouths. I don't know how they did it, and I don't care. Really. I do not care at all. Please tell me why. YOU KNOW!! I KNOW YOU DO!!! YOU'RE ONE OF THEM, AREN'T YOU? I KNEW IT!!!) are really (and i don't just mean slightly. I mean reeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEeeeeAaaaaalllLY omfg realy really real fully real. Ly. I am not exaggerating. I might have exaggerated earlier in this article, like when I said I don't like plastic flowers, but right now I am just really seriously not kidding at all. Really.) lame (and I don't mean like crippled lame, like "Oh that guy [/gal/thing/plastic flower] is limping [/limping/limping/not moving at all], so it must be lame. I mean like the kind of lame like "Oh that guy [/gal/thing/plastic flower] is being really uncool [/being really uncool/being really uncool/not being a real flower], so it must be lame. [nobody actually says sentences like that, which is why I use them as examples. That way nobody says "Hey! That is my [/her/it's {:p}/that really lame thing's] quote! I am going to sue you [her/it/your plastic flower]!" The last time someone threatened to sue me, it was for knowingly hitting them over the head with a frying pan and then running of with their wallet during a TV interview. The guy even had tapes of the incident! Luckily, I have a good lawyer. His name is John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt, which, surprisingly enough, is my name too. Well, officially at least. I am Geribaldi Grabowski by birth, but I changed my name while in my mid-twenties when I discovered I had nothing better to do. I discovered this had been going on ever since I was sacked. It was beginning to get on my nerves. So, naturally, I plucked it off of my nerves and sent it scurrying back to it's [ooh!] happy little home in Dallas. I'd like to have a summer home there, but the prices are really something awful nowadays [really, they are. I went looking one time for a nice little place in Ohio, two stories {not like fairytale stories, but like the kind which some people also call floors. The kind that are represented by those little numbers in elevators}, and you know what it cost? five-hundred bajagillion cents! Would you believe it? No, of course you wouldn't, because you are not a gullible little fool, which some people are, if you can believe it. Which again, you probably can't] if you know what I mean. Which of course you do, since only big schnapheads don't watch the news, and, seriously, home prices have been on the news a LOT lately.).

the explanation[edit | edit source]

Ok, please (pretty pretty please with a cherry [I mean like the fruit, not the drink] on top?) allow me (Oh? You thought I was someone else [if you wish to contact someone else, please dial 1-800-HANNAHMONTANA. Please not that Someone Else screens his calls.]?) to (three, four, five, and six are all numbers!) explain myself (But not my elf, because my elf wishes to remain anonymous at this time, until the FBI get out of town. I hope they don't do it too [three, four, five, etc. {etc. is not a number, it is just an abbreviation for "etcetera", which is either latin, or else its* Greek. I once had some Greek salad, and it was really good, except the chef, who I happened to know from way back when I was majoring in cookery in college, had put too many crutons, which I despise almost as much as plastic flowers, in, which annoyed me so much that I stabbed him. Luckily, I managed to make a clean getaway. Even if I hadn't, though, that's what lawyers are for, right?}] soon, though, because they are providing plenty of good business for my ammo shop.). I sometimes (though not absolutely always) go off (the opposite of on) on (the opposite of off) tangents (the word tangents sounds a lot like the word "tangerines", but tangents don't taste nearly as good as tangerines [believe me, I tried a tangent once, and it tasted awful.].). I don't mean (nor am I mean, but that's a topic for another time [like tomorrow, since I don't believe I have anything planned just then, except for that tea party I was going to have with Dennis {who really is a rather nice fellow, but he sometimes gets a bit drunk, so I usually prefer to stay away from him}, and even that could be rescheduled. I'd have to check my calendar {Which is really a very pretty calendar. It shows pictures of all sorts of beautiful landscapes and things, including this one really nice one, which is a picture of a rolling desert. I'd like to got to the desert some day, but its* so darned expensive that I simply can't. especially on my wage, which isn't really all that much, in fact, its† only slightly above the minimum wage}, though.], as I like to say.) to be (I once got stung by a bee, and believe me [cause you really can, you know. Not like that Dennis fellow. No, not at all. Well maybe very slightly {very very slightly, as I like to say. Some of the other things I like include painting pretty pictures, and pizza. My favorite kind of pizza topping is the type with the green olives, the ones with little red thingymerbobbers inside.}, but not very much.], it hurt a whole darned heck of a lot.) so confusing.






*Ooh!




†I bet you wish I'd stop doing that. But I won't