Fuck you, fuck the thrice-cursed whore that whelped you, fuck the degenerate cur that sired you, and fuck your execrable siblings. I’d say fuck the miserable slattern you married, but I wouldn’t touch her with yours, dude. May you choke, soon, whilst fellating the 100th syphilitic monkey forced upon you that day.
You came highly recommended. Some people actually were surprised that we’d called a pro instead of their cousin Bubba. We hired you 2 years ago to save the beetle-infested pine tree dying in the front yard. You sold us a year-round service plan that includes fertilizers and pest control for all of the trees. Fair enough, it’s all part of owning a house.
Last Autumn, we called you in to trim the dead limbs off of our trees. It’s only 1/5 of an acre, but there’s a lot of trees and we don’t know how to take care of them. The certifications and degree in tree-ology you tout on your website led us to believe that you do. You quoted us a truly astronomical price and said that the pine tree was at death’s door and would need to be cut down before it destroyed our house or killed somebody. Like Godzilla or something. We granted the tree a temporary stay of execution, based on its much-improved condition. We then agreed to pay you to just remove the dead limbs from the biggest trees, for which you estimated about half the original price.
Your crowd of dipshits showed up while we were at work and proceeded to beat the ever loving fuck out of our plants, which you had assured us they would not do. I thought the place had been vandalized by those damn kids from down the street. In addition to trampling the crap out of everything green and upright, they snapped in half a cholla cactus that was nowhere near the work area, strewed our stakes and trellises (with plants till attached) abso-fucking-lutely everywhere. and took it upon themselves to lop a half-inch thick branch off of our climbing rosebush, (accident my ass, they used fucking shears). The final insult: the stupid fuckers slashed open 8 goddamned bags of shredded leaves that I had just spent the weekend collecting. By the time I found this god-forsaken disaster area, the wind had blown them BACK INTO THE FUCKING YARD. When you saw the mess your employees had made, you assured me that it was normal collateral damage associated with tree trimming operations and offered me replacement shrubs “at cost”. What cost, motherfucker? You grow them yourself, they are practically free. Then to finish the ritual ass-fucking of the customer, you presented me with a bill that was 80% of your quote for the entire job, explaining that it took longer than anticipated. Brilliant strategy! Get people to agree to do only half the job, then charge them for nearly the whole thing. Phase 3 is Profit!
Against our better judgment, we retained your services for the rest of the contract. It was already paid, after all. Which brings us to today. Once again, I came home and had cause to search my property for young vandals. You see, as part of today’s scheduled late Summer fertilization, your Mongol Horde threw in some value-added, in the form of more plant destruction. Why on Earth would they cut off some 6’ tall sunflowers, then fold them in half and throw them into the driveway? Perhaps for the same reason they kicked over some other sunflowers and pulled up the stakes and tape, flinging those into the front pathway. We collected those seeds last Summer during our perambualtions across the Rockies and Northern Plains. They were just starting to flower. The seed heads were not yet mature, so we can’t even replant them next year. At least there’s a few of each type left. Nevertheless, the Mrs. is probably going to mope for the entire weekend once she sees this, she really liked those flowers. Thanks, stupid cocks.
It’s a good thing I used up the last of the leaf mulch recently, or I suppose they would have dumped it directly into my sewer line cleanout or set fire to it inside my air conditioner. What’s up for the Fall service? Do they hide in the alley, then beat me to death with my own shrubbery and leave my mangled corpse on the lawn as a warning to the others? I guess it’s what I deserve for keeping them employed.
Now that I think of it, I’ve never seen these hooligan workers. Is it possible that tree-man has trained up a pack of spastically incompetent, shit-flinging monkeys? I’ve got plenty of bananas and a job I’m sure they’d enjoy…
I Hate It Here
