Junipers Can Bite Me

I hate junipers. They’re ugly. Their green isn’t even a pretty green; I would never wear it or paint my house with it. I don’t drink gin. Junipers are the least useful, most wasted spaces of life on this planet. Worst of all, they give me allergies. They are the only thing I’m allergic to and I lived the first 30 years of my life completely allergy-free. Until I lived in Bend for seven years and developed this god-forsaken juniper allergy.

I made it through winter with only a slightly sore throat. I steered clear of the pig flu, stomach flu and any other cold-related virus. Invincibility was mine. Until spring sprung with fucking juniper pollen. I woke up the first day with burning, blurry eyes, like I’d had an all-night cry or drinking binge. I’d had neither. The next day I sat at my desk sniffling for the last two hours of the afternoon. Last night I was literally attacked by pollen while washing my face. It’s pretty pathetic to have go to bed at 9:30 at night because it hurts too bad to keep my eyes open.

Yep, I can’t truly enjoy the 60+ degree sunny days in March because I want to tear my eyeballs out of my head. The worst is when it snows AND I have out of control allergy symptoms. That’s a really special kind of hell.

I think all junipers should be eradicated. Seriously. I would run for office to become President of the United States of America just so I could burn the fuckers down and remove them permanently from the earth. I would make it illegal to grow them. Grow all the marijuana you want, but plant a single juniper seed and be put to death. Slowly and painfully.

Junipers can suck it. Hard.