Bearing much Fruit (unless we’re talking about pumpkins)

I’m definitely not an expert on trees.  All I really know is that I have a lot of them.  Messy ones at that.  Oak trees that love to shed tons of leaves and acorns.  Acorns of which I don’t pick up and sprout into more oak trees under a moist mound of dying leaves of which I didn’t pick up.  It’s a vicious cycle man.  One of which I realize I am in control if I’d choose to be.  But I don’t. 

Amongst all these oaks, I have two other trees, one is not a money tree and the other happens to be a pine.   A scraggly, measly, thin little pine. 

But do you see those specks?
All 4,562,566,748 of them?
Believe it or not, I think those are pine cones, being the expert that I’m not.
I am flabbergasted at all the stinking pine cones on this tree.
Pine cones that I apparently am not going to pick up.
I so wish you could see it in real life.  It truly is mind boggling.  When your mind is like mine, that is.
It’s always overkill around here.
If I attempted procreation, I’d probably end up with a litter.
Although if I had a money tree, I wouldn’t be complaining.  You’d never hear me say one disparaging remark about its fruitfulness.
And I’d share my harvest with all two of you who read this thing.

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