The Lawn Ranger c_shearer at ACAD.FANDM.EDU
Fri Oct 24 16:22:33 EST 1997

Since we are discussing coffee, asparaggus and beets, here are some other
plants to chew about.
>               Life in the Slaw Lane
>                      -Kip Adota
>  It was Cucumber the 1st. Summer was over. I had just spinached
>  a long day and I was busheled. I'm the kind of guy that works
>  hard for his celery, and I don't like telling you I was feeling
>  a bit wilted. But I didn't carrot all, because, otherwise, things
>  were vine. I try never to dasparagus, and I don't sweat the
>  truffles. I'm outstanding in my field, and I know that something
>  good will turnip eventually.
>  A bunch of things were going grape, and, soon, I'd be top banana.
>  At least, that's my peeling. But that's enough corn -- lend me
>  your ear, and lettuce continue.
>  After dressing, I stalked over to the grain station. I got there
>  just in lime to catch the nine-elemon as it plowed towards the
>  core of Appleton, a lentle more than a melon and a half yeast of
>  Cloveland.
>  No one got off at Zucchini, so we continued on a rutaBaga. Passing
>  my usual stop, I got avoCado. I haled a passing Yellow Cabbage
>  and told the driver to cart me off to Broccolin. I was going to
>  meet my brother across from the EggPlant, where he had a job at
>  the Saffron station pumpkin gas.
>  As soon as I saw his face, I knew he was in a yam. He told me
>  his wife had been raisin cane. Her name was Peaches -- a soiled
>  but radishing beauty with huge gourds (my brother had always been
>  a chestnut). But I could never figure out why she picked him.
>  He was a skinny little stringbean who'd always suffered from
>  Cerebral Parsley -- it was in our roots. Sure, we had tried to
>  weed it out, but the problem still romained. He was used to having
>  a tough row to hoe, but it irrigated me to see Arte-choke, and it
>  bothered my brother to see his marriage go to seed.
>  Like most mapled couples, they had a lot of growing to do. Shore,
>  they had sown their wild oats, but just barley, if you peas.
>  Finally, Peaches had given him an ultomato. She said, "I'm hip
>  to your chive, and if you don't stop smoking that herb, I'm
>  going to leaf you for Basil, you fruit!" He said he didn't realize
>  it had kumquat so far. Onion other hand, even though Peaches could
>  be the pits, I knew she'd never call the fuzz.
>  So I said, "Hay, we're not farm from the MushRoom. Let's walk
>  over." He said, "That's a very rice place! That's the same little
>  bar where alfalfa my wife." When we got there, I pulled up a
>  cherry and tried to produce small talk. I told him I hadn't seen
>  Olive; not since I'd shelled off for a trip to Macadamia, when
>  I told her we cantaloupe -- the thyme just wasn't ripe. She
>  knew what I mint!
>  When we left the MushRoom, we were pretty well juiced. I told
>  Arte to say hello to the boysenberry, and that I'd orange to
>  see him another time.
>  Well, it all came out in the morning peppers: Arte caught Peaches
>  that night with Basil, and Arte beet Basil bad, leaving him with
>  two beautiful acres. Peaches? She was found in the garden --
>  she'd be pruned.
>  Well, my little story is okra now. Maybe it's small potatoes.
>  Me? Idaho. My name? Wheat. My friends call be `Kernel'.
>  And that's life in the slaw lane. Thank you so mulch.
>  It's a garden out there!
>(the chorus, which is inserted a few times, is sung by his
>regular back-up singers. It goes:
>  Life in the Slaw Lane
>  They say plants can't feel no pain
>  Life in the Slaw Lane
>  I've got news for you -- they're just as frail as you.  )

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