Then Why Don’t YOU Water The Plants, GLENN?
Ermger! I am angry with Glenn right now!
I was just outside on the patio, watering our plants, like I always do, because I’m the only one that doesn’t want the plants to die a horrible withering death by desiccation. Though Glenn doesn’t care whatsoever about OUR OWN PLANTS, he’s suddenly all concerned about the total strangers that live in the apartment below us!
Which is not even what’s happening, and I tried to explain this, but he’s all, “MERP, MERP, MERP, I’M TALKING OVER YOU AND DON’T KNOW HOW PLANTERS WORK.”
So then, I had to carry the seeping planter into the kitchen and basically waterboard the now extremely distressed flowers just so Glenn could witness the basket draining out the bottom just like EVERY OTHER HANGING PLANTER IN THE WORLD.
And, of course, since I proved my point, he’s all, “I’m not even having this conversation with you. I’m just saying that YOU wouldn’t like it if the people above US poured dirt-water onto our balcony every week.”
So, I thrust the basket at him and say, “Do YOU want to water the plants?” And he’s like, “No, I don’t want to water the plants, I just think you should water them BETTER and I don’t see why you’re freaking out about this SIMPLE ADJUSTMENT IN YOUR TECHNIQUE.”
And I’m like *snap snap snap*, “BECAUSE I FUCKING HATE THE PEOPLE BELOW US. (I do not.) And if it were you out there watering plants and me in here talking the talk you’d be like, ‘RAWR! I AM GLENN. I DO ALL THE THINGS GREAT EXCEPT TAKE ANY CRITICISM! RAWR!”
As usual, the joke is on Glenn, because we live on the fourteenth floor, and there IS NO thirteenth floor in our building, and so there ARE NO people living below us, and any excess run-off just disappears, or evaporates, or maybe just falls out of the sky and into a ditch on the side of the New Jersey turnpike like all the people who have been John Malcovich.
And that’s all I’ve got to say about that.