Quick, Name Your Favorite Tree
I have a favorite tree. I am looking at my favorite tree right now - or I was - I’m writing now, but a moment ago I was looking at my favorite tree. It’s a Ginkgo. It’s rad.
And this got me to thinking, if you can’t name your favorite tree off the top of your head then you might suck. I’m willing to slip the notion into some spandex because I’m not giving any context here. You know, I want to have sex with you in which case any answer is the correct one, or you’re trap in the space compactor with an angry squid-like creature trying to eat your testicles -
- “Quick, name your favorite tree.”
- “Huh, I don’t fucking know. Help me asshole.”
- “Phony bitch.”
This would be a bit silly, were this the context, not to mention a violation of common decency as the no compassionate man wants to see a fellow citizen get his nuts ripped off by an angry space monster. I’m also not saying I’m perfect. I’m as fucked up as the next hillbilly, and because I can name a favorite tree does not mean I’m ascending to Heaven in a golden Volvo whilst you boil in Satan’s tar pits.
Nor do I think this should be a widely accept litmus test for a person’s depth of soul. That is a funny proposition. In fact this post, read by some who subscribe to the notion that men should carry heavy clubs and grunt platitudes, probably makes me funny, like, sexually suspect funny.
- “Boy, you’re a bit funny ain’t you? Trees are good for two things. Kickin’ ass and fucking woman.”
- “No, no, you misunderstood. I meant favorite tree like what tree would you want to fuck a porn star under tree. That sort of tree. ”
- “Well, shit. What’s a tree gotta do with it? I don’t need no tree to lay it on a horny hoe.”
- “Exactly. I was thinking the same thing when some douche bag asked me that.”
With all that said, if you can peel off your favorite tree without much deliberation I’ll assume a few things about you:
- You probably pay keen attention to the world around you.
- You care as much about about things that cannot bought in a store as you do products that can.
- You appreciate subtle beauty.
- You take the time to indulge in daydream.
- You might be a bit weird.
- You probably dropped acid at some point in your life.
This is a good solid list here. A general one for sure, but if I can assume these things, and you prove the assumptions correct over time, then I’ll go out on a limb and say, more often than not, you do not suck.
Sucking, in the context of this post, and in relation to the list above, would look something like this:
- You pay keen attention to — “Hey are you listening to me!”.
- You just know you’re getting screwed over.
- Beauty is best served with a good helping of satisfied expectations.
- You daydream about what to do next.
- You’re weird when it is appropriate to be so.
- You dropped acid but didn’t inhale.
Further Reading
So Sorry
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