A preemptive persimmon harvest. Bitter from last year's destroyed persimmon crop, this year I fire the first volley against my sworn enemies. Squirrels. I picked all of the persimmons on the tree before those damned rodents can sink incisors into orange flesh. May those rats with fluffy tails starve this winter! Damn squirrels. I curse thee!
This persimmon has a penis. My yard seems to produce an overabundance of suggestively shaped fruits and vegetables. Not sure what kind of aura's my fruit trees are picking up on. Must be the water.
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