Keep yer nasty varmins fingers off my office plant, Texas. Were you raised in a barn? Where I come from we know better than to go waterin other people’s desk plants all hoity toity like. I’m givin ya fair warning that I’m gonna rig some firecrackers to go off in yer face the next time you pull a yellow or brown leaf off Texas. Hell. She’s survived three years in this dump and if she wants to turn yeller that’s none of your concern.
Stop coming over to my desk and rearranging her tendrils saying that she’ll grow bigger and stronger if she can spread out. She don’t need no stinking sunlight! I don’t follow you home and tell you what to fix your youngins for supper, do I? Me and Texas can manage on our own with no interference thank you kindly.
I don’t particularly care if you don’t like to see Texas get dusty or drag the floor. You know what Texas doesn’t like? Your cloud of perfume that follows you like tumbleweed. Lay off the Sweet Pea Kisses or whatever the heck that scent is supposed to be. It’s ain’t natural. Your husband steps out on you by the way.
Don’t let me catch you with a cup of tap water over here again. I ain’t saying I’m gonna smack you, but I am thinking about it.
God Blessed Texas – don’t you forget it.