The bane of my existence

Whenever I close my eyes, I see honeysuckle. Whenever I walk by a bush of it, I take a look at its trunk system, wondering how many cuts it would take before the thing is obliterated. And while working, because I don't use my sanity support in the woods, (Too much handage needed to control them, and the batteries wear out sooner if I use them constantly) I hit the perfect extended metaphor for Mary Sues: The Dreaded Honeysuckle. Lets look do a comparison:

Mary Sue sounds likes something pretty and innocuous on the surface, so does honeysuckle. Well-trimmed and used sparsely, the layman thinks nothing is wrong with either of them, however when growing out of control, it provokes rage in even the calmest of souls. And once over-exposed to both honeysuckle and Mary Sues, there seems to be no tolerence for any kind of the stimuli.

Library's about to close, and I want to see if they have a book.

Over and Out.