Tag Archives: banana

Bananas: the One, True Threat

evil_bananaI can’t verify this, but if things continue as they are, I may be driven to the point that I have the opportunity to find out first-hand. But, I’m pretty sure that the road to Hell is trimmed in banana plants, those big, floppy-leafed scourges of the yard. The only thing that could possibly make banana plants more hatefully heinous would be cross-breeding them with poison oak. At which point, we need to tap out and surrender the planet because we’ve lost the war on agri-terrorism.

If you’re considering planting one of these pests in your yard, just go home because you’re drunk. You’d be better off – and definitely happier in the long run – if you simply backed up a cement truck and paved over your entire property. Although, this may be the only way to get rid of the chlorophyll creatures from the pits of someplace unspeakable once you’ve got them.

Despite my homeowners association frowning on such thing, I’m talking napalm, flame-throwers, small nuclear devices detonated from a safe distance across the street. Voodoo and practitioners of the dark arts are also not off the table in my battle against the bananas. Here’s the problem: you can hack them to the roots, dig them out and salt the earth and they’ll still find a way to come back. They’re vegetational herpes. This is truly the price we’ve paid for the whole mishap in the Garden of Eden: God said, “Get out and go live in shame with the banana plants.”

So after two long, bloody years of hand-to-leaf combat, I finally felt I had eradicated the green plague. Then as I’m licking my wounds and trying to recover from the resulting PTSD, the banana plant in my neighbor’s yard has sent up a scout on my side of the fence. Naturally, I’m triggered. The machete has long since been put in a locked location to keep me from hurting myself or others (like my neighbor who obviously shops in the garden center at ISIS Depot).

Unless your family name is Dole and you live in a jungle in Nicaragua, there’s no reason to have banana plants. Propagating this problem should be considered a crime against all humanity and punished accordingly. For the sake of all that’s holy, If you want a banana, go to Kroger.

(Tip of the hat to Mabination for the graphic)

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Ants, Plants and a Bad Hair Day

antIts spring and I am at war. The battle rages on several fronts, all of them equally fierce and the outcomes are all questionable. Most unfortunately, I am quickly learning how ill-equipped and incompetent I am to face these nemeses. Yet, in the true spirit of the underdog, I push hopelessly forward.

My first enemy: the banana tree. Truly this menace is the herpes of the garden. There is no cure. Ever. During the Vietnam War, thousands of banana trees were torched by flame-throwers and napalm only to reappear fully grown two weeks later as if nothing had happened. Why would anyone plant one of these viruses? Kroger has bananas for 19 cents a pound all the time. You don’t need to grow your own, for heaven’s sake! Go to the store already! Still, I have sharpened the blade on the machete, purchased several industrial barrels of Round-Up, and put plans in place to salt the earth. Regardless, I know I will not win. 

What only intensifies the humiliation is listening to the fire ants laugh at my feeble attempts for domination. They, of course, are on my hit list. And their eradication is also my exercise in futility. I’ve tried pouring boiling water on their mounds. I’ve invested more than the national debt in worthless poisons. I’ve even tried shoveling heaps from one side of the yard onto another in the hopes that they’d just fight it out and kill each other off. Instead, they band together and plot to destroy my universe. Again, I know I will not win. 

As I do every spring when the humidity starts to rise, I fight the frizz with great futility. Anyone who dares say, “What nice curly hair you have” gets punched in the throat. Oh yes, that’s me out in the yard covered in ant bites, screaming obscenities at the newest banana scourge looking like blonde cotton candy has sprouted out of my head. I am, however, undaunted. I now have five different deep root conditioners and I’m NOT AFRAID TO USE THEM! Yes, I know I will not win this one either. But at least I will have soft, damage-free frizz.

The struggle is real. So if you need me, I’ll be in the bunker mapping out invasion strategies and waiting for the hot oil to repair my split ends.

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