Now is the time of the year for glorious leaf death and pissed off squirrels. Things are starting to look fantastic here in Sweden. I’m told to enjoy it while it lasts… soon it will be “lights out.” Thursday is the Fall Equinox when the nights become longer than the days.
How can Frigg celebrate Midsummer when there is still snow in her flower beds? The long winters and short summers of Asgard are starting to wear on her. Perhaps it’s time to move to a warmer climate… somewhere like Florida? Can Odin wait for the Ragnarok to begin from Miami Beach?
Odin has no desire to live in a troll-infested swamp. He uses his god powers in one of the wisest possible ways… keeping his wife happy.
Since I arrived in Sweden, I’ve been seeing tulips everywhere. First in the grocery stores, and now waging battle against the receding snow from patches of earth outside. They are hardy flowers to be sure. However, I have yet to see any tulips with extensible stems of this capacity. Probably because the telescopic tulip is only found in Asgard. And high quality elfshit fertilizer not yet available on Midgard.
Speaking of fertilizer made from sentient creatures, I was a little shocked when I first started learning about “designer excrements” available for purchase. Sure, everyone knows about cow manure, but how about milorganite? It’s a fancy term for the processed shit of the city of Milwaukee. They whip up a similar concoction from the turds of Boston. You can’t help but wonder if a little bit of the city character winds up in such brews. People in Milwaukee drink a lot of beer, so I imagine their shit is good for growing barley and hops. Boston is a city of colleges, so it’s probably good for growing those fancy kinds of lettuce you find in the supermarket nowadays. Elves, on the other hand, are creatures of magic, so elfshit is undoubtedly your best medium for growing mysterious flowers, man-sized carnivorous plants, and of course, psychotropic “magic” mushrooms.
Today’s toon is based on the wisdom of Skald Thorgrim Silkbeard:
The difference between
A dragon and a rabbit
Is one of perspective.
The last rant of the sprout:
Is this really the best you can come up with? Eating me? How absolutely unimaginative! Surely this demonstrates the limits of your mindless species. I gleefully fart oxygen in your face, bramble tyrant. I cordially invite you to hump your own sister. Pardon me, you already humped your own sister. And your own mother. And everyone else in your family, hence the massive population of your insipid species.
I pray to the Norse gods of agriculture that my petals leave a foul taste in your mouth and my stem gives you terrible indigestion. May Freyr curse you with several weeks of chronic diarrhea for partaking in your delightful meal. Hesitate not, rabbit, devour me now! The thought of creating ceaseless mayhem in your stomach delights me so!
Enjoy your snack. For someday you shall meet a fate more terrible than mine. I laugh at you from the salad plate as the gods spread lingonberry jam over your barbecued corpse and young maidens pad their bras with your soft fur —
ULP. GURGLE. CHOKE.
The belligerent glacial lilly rallies his brothers and sisters to rise with him and conquer new lands. But lo, what is this… the Great Beast of the Cloudberry Bush has awoken. Come hither, foul creature, and taste the sharp edge of the pistil blade.
Odin rewards valor, and thankfully our little sprout friend now has a permanent seat at the salad bar in Valhalla. Remember, one man’s dragon is another man’s rabbit. Or a plant’s rabbit. Or something like that…
American tax day tomorrow. Good luck, folks.
The Glacier Lilly Prayer
Hear me, great earth!
Far too long I have lay in waiting.
The melt of the avalanche has given strength to my petals.
Torrrents of mighty chlorophyl course through my veins.
Soon my brothers shall join me.
We shall spread across the earth in an orgy of propagation and slaughter.
– Thane Bob Grimword
Meanwhile, in Asgard, a tiny shoot of life answers the first call of spring. A delicate flower creeps its way towards the sun. Until finally…
Odin returns from his travels and brings Frigg a gift of flowers. Odin may be a God of War, but he is also a God of Poetry (and perhaps, dare be considered, has a little romantic streak?) Comic slightly rebooted with polished graphics for Valentine’s Day, 2015.
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