e back to Haiku Monday, where Fish Hack is back in the Fish Wrap to relax and recoupe from a Sunday full of justifiable herbicide.
Didn’t turn any Rogue River chinook eyes into X’s. But put the ass-wup to the testosterone-suckers in front of the Fish Shack — rose bushes..
Hack whacked his roses/Adding a Y chromosome/To Hack’s Fishing Shack.
For you few Haiku Monday virgins out there, this is when and where Fish Hack waxes on and off non-Brazilian style about the outdoors and whatever else comes to mind.
There are the many non-sequiturs that make up Fish Hack’s existence, and fewer have less curb-side appeal than the many fancy rose bushes that line the lot.
Unlike grass, you can’t just kill them by ignoring them. They grow to 8 feet and bulge onto the sidewalk in truly unneighborly fashion.
So Hack’s neighbor mentions the out-of-control rosebushes Saturday.
Blame the deed and not the breed, bro.
When roses attack:/How one flowery bush kills/Tranquil neighborhood.
But then it turns out one attacked his 2-year-old grandson, so it was time to put the hurt to the offending bush.
Four hours later and with much help from Tax Deduction No. 1, the rose carcass filled a borrowed trailer, with only the faint dripping of petals from the trailer door offering any hint of the herbal carnage that took place.
Now the neighbor kid can run blood-free down the street and the Fish Shack looks much more manly despite no chinook carcasses stinking up the garbage.
Gotta whack a ’nook/So the Fish Shack smells like Dude/And not fresh ester.