My Pumpkin has a Penis

So, true story, I was surfing the internet to see what I need to do to get giant motherfucking pumpkins when I discovered pumpkins have penises AND vaginas and I was like, “Whoawhoawhoawhoawhoa” and then the internet told me that I needed to inseminate it with its own seed.  What. The. Fuck.

I mean, really, first the internet is telling me my pumpkin, with all of it’s pretty flowers, has a penis.  Okay, you know, I’m an open minded guy.  I can handle having a gay pumpkin.  Chip off the ol’ block, eh?  No big whoop.  But then the internet goes on to tell me I have to do something with the pumpkin’s vagina.  So, yeah.  I have to mutilate my poor pretty pumpkin flower and put its penis inside it’s vagina in order to get it pregnant and bear fruit.

It's a pumpkin penis with it's jizz and ants

Those are ants. Imagine how inadequate my little pumpkin feels next to me.

I’m confused.  I thought this was a plant.  See, when I decided I wanted to have plants, sort of as a nifty Science Project, I wasn’t planning on going so far as artificial insemination.  Now, granted, I don’t have to artificially inseminate this plant.  I could just allow nature to take its course and, if I get a pregnant pumpkin, so be it.  But, see, I don’t enjoy watching those close to me suffer through being childless, so I feel I absolutely must assist my pumpkin in this endeavor, despite having watched it grow up, practically raising it with my own two hands.

Immature Female Pumpkin Flower

See, girls DON'T mature faster than boys!

I would post a picture of the pumpkins vajayjay, however, it’s an elusive thing.  When I get a picture, I will share, along with video of the pumpkin sexing .

Pumpkin Flowers and Writing Books

I’ve always wanted to write a book.  Ever since I was a kid.  I don’t know why.  I wasn’t one of those children that ran around making up crazy stories about witches, faeries, and the like.  I did come up with stories, but they only served to help me with that “pull random ass saving excuse from any orifice” talent I seem to have.

But, lately, the itch has gotten really bad.  It’s like needing a fix.  I need to write.  So maybe that’s what I’ll start doing.  I’ve got a few ideas.  If I can work with them, great.  It’s not about getting published, anyway.  It’s about getting the words down on paper (or a hard drive, take your pick) so they aren’t driving me mad anymore.

And, also, pumpkins have flowers.  I was expecting flowers when the information I found online said something about them, but nothing like that.  I could sell a bouquet of pumpkin flowers right now, if I wanted.  It’s kind of strange to see.  They are pretty, though.  And I’m down to only three jalapeno plants, two of which I’m probably going to give away.  Nothing else has survived but those three jalapenos, the two pumpkins, and some chives I’m not too sure about.

But, hey, how many people do you know who have a three-foot pumpkin plant sitting in a bucket in their backyard, eh?

I’m a Horrible Plant Father

So I killed all of my plants.  It’s horrible.  I feel like I should be taken in by CPS, only it wouldn’t be CPS, it would be PPS, and then I’d get beaten for making immature PP jokes.  Then they’d ask me if I was even taking this seriously and I’d be all, “Um, hello, they were plants, not people.  We eat them.  What part of this do you not understand?”  And then they’d throw chlorophyll on me and call me a monster, but PETA would applaud me, and then I’d invite the PETA people to a nice steak dinner, and then I’d be covered in pig’s blood and chlorophyll.  Then I’d have to convert BACK to Christianity because I’d be Christmas colors and I’m just not okay with that.

But, yeah, I killed them.  It was more an accidental homicide, but, alas, my babies are all dead or dying.  Even my totally rockin pumpkin that was kicking ass and taking names…poor thing’s trying to protect itself…which basically means it cut itself off from everything and is going to be a tiny little nub coming out of the dirt in the next day or two.  I almost cried.  And this late in the year I likely won’t get much of a harvest from the seedlings I planted after this gruesome discovery, if I get any kind of harvest, and that’s assuming they’re even going to germinate.

I’m ready this time, though.  If they do, in fact, germinate, they’ll do so right around the time of my next check, which means I can make a tiny little greenhouse for them, so hopefully they’ll all survive.  The greenhouse won’t really work for the peppers, though.  Those’ll just stay out and enjoy their natural habitat.  If Texas weather cooperates.

Yeah, when your backyard’s green in June out here, it signifies a problem.  That’s just not natural for Texas.