Eight legs

One thing I always forget about summer: I spend half my time freaking out at my moles.

Because, you see, they could be ticks.

Like the one I just pulled off of my head.

Motherfucking BUNNIES

So you dug up all my beans, eh? Did you find them yummy? I sure fucking hope so, motherfuckers. This means war.

Chickenwire. Posts.

Five words.