My Stupid Friggin' Ivy Plant

Since the time of the great hanging gardens of Babylon and perhaps earlier, people have been growing domestic plants for pleasure. They instill indoor spaces with color, pleasure, and the joy of nurturing. Recent studies have even shown that having a variety of indoor plants can alleviate depression.

At least, plants that are not my stupid friggin' ivy plant.

                                                What the heck is wrong with this thing?

The whole idea of having an indoor plant is that if you water it, prune it, and re-pot it at the appropriate times, the God dang thing will live and grow. None of these features work on my stupid friggin' ivy plant. It is unresponsive to love and care, like some kind of brat kid.

To make matters worse, it's got some really nice leaves on one branch. It seems to taunt the user; a window to the great plant it could be if the piece of crap worked at all. How could they release a thing with so many flaws?

Not being a professional gardener, I don't ask much. I just need an ivy plant that won't keel over and die no matter what you do. Comparable models, such as the one in my neighbor Susie Anderson's window, grow like some kind of flippin' weed.

If you ask me, my stupid friggin' ivy plant gets a D+. Jeez.

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