you, sir, are shaggy and unkempt. you have no backbone. you are rootless. you depend on the support of your generous and upstanding hosts, from whom you leach your livelihood, and to whom you contribute nothing. you think you can survive on sunshine and rainfall, and spend the rest of your life just hanging out with your bearded kin. i do not say this lightly, but, at the end of the day, you, sir, are little more than an epiphytic bromeliad. you are an angiosperm. there. it is said. i throw down my gauntlet.

spanish moss

st. petersburg, florida