The Vine

It can't be killed. It is some type of genetic freaky mutant thing that is resistant to anything and everything. It's the herpes of weeds. It's just there, it's always there. And it can't be killed.

I've tried. I've tried everything. I sprayed pesticide on it and it just burped and asked for some crackers. I have tried pulling it out by the roots but it just cracks it's knuckles and spits on me. It's very humiliating.

I have even trained the dog to pee on it every single day, twice a day, for the last year. His urine kills everything, it kills middle east peace plans. But not the weed, it's just there. It's always there. It's there in my dreams.

I've never seen anything like this before. They don't have weeds like this where I'm from. It's Twilight Zone weird. I expect it any minute to start producing gremlins that like to tear apart planes and drive old guys insane.

If I couldn't just kill it, that would be one thing. I could learn to live in peace with it. Neighbors, not by choice. It won't leave. I can accept that. But it's not just a superweed that won't die. It grows. It grows like you have never seen before. It "Drink Me" grows. It's almost immediate. What I thought was just a simple weed is actually a vine.

It's a beast of a vine. And it grows up and over everything like it is on steroids or like it just got shocked by Gamma Radiation and I have made it mad, so very very mad.

It does not flower. It does not bear fruit that I can make wine out of it. It just has very broad leaves that look like they are constantly trying to smack me in the face each time I pass so that I don't forget my place.

I started this fight a year ago. It had wrapped itself around my evergreen bush in the backyard. It was slowly killing it. The only thing it does fast is grow. When it kills, it likes to do it slowly so it can look into your eyes and call you a pussy.

I went under the bush and found the roots. I pulled them. I pulled out the leaves, I pulled out the little grabby tentacles. I pulled until my hands were chapped, torn while fighting for the life of my bush.

But I missed something, somewhere and next week it was back. I pulled again, and again it came back. I got a front loader and said "GET AWAY FROM HER YOU BITCH!" and then I threw it out the airlock.

It came back. It always comes back. Now there are several of them under the deck. A little army of angry weed vines. Have you ever seen that movie the Ruins? Go rent it and you will know what I'm dealing with.

I even called in the heavy hitters. The same people that Chicago brings in when they need someone "taken care" of. I called in Little Hoss and Bubba Hoss. You have not seen destruction until you have seen them in action.

Give them a hammer and by the time you come back your house would be in ruins and your cat would be smacked around. Give them a paperclip and your car would be stolen, stripped for parts, and a dirty diaper would be left in your mailbox.

They showed up bright and early. They like there ass wrecking to begin promptly at 7:30.

I gave them a blow torch, a pack of Pal Malls and a box of wipes.

Take that you fucker.

An hour later I went back outside. The vine weed was still there and if possible, had grown another 10 feet and was now creeping up the side of my deck. Little Hoss and Bubba Hoss were petting it.

I am out of ideas. I have nothing left to try. I have brainstormed and keep coming up empty. Should I start talking bad to it now? They say that talking to plants helps, so what if I tell the vine that it is a piece of shit who's own mother didn't want it. Would that work. If I told it that I have seen better foliage on the underside of a bridge, would it cry and shrivel up?

Maybe I'll just go the bad neighbor route. Make it so unbearable to live next to me that it will move on it's own. Do things like play my music to loud, party all night, light bags of poo in front of it and then run away.

I'm out of options and I have a feeling that time is working against me. Death will take one of us and I'm not liking my chances.