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You know, relationships are a lot like flowers. At first, everything is blooming, colorful, and full of life. You're like, "Wow, this is beautiful!" But then reality hits, and you realize you've been watering a cactus instead of a rose. You thought you were getting a bouquet, but it turns out you got a Venus flytrap! I once bought my girlfriend a bouquet of flowers, thinking it would make up for a silly argument we had. She looked at me and said, "Flowers die, you know." Yeah, thanks for the reminder. So now I'm thinking, maybe I should have gotten her a succulent. At least that way, when it dies, I can say it's low-maintenance, just like me!
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Have you ever tried giving flowers to someone, thinking it's a romantic gesture, only to find out they have hay fever? I mean, talk about killing the mood! I handed this girl a beautiful bouquet, and she starts sneezing like I just unleashed a pollen bomb on her. I felt like a biological weapon of mass destruction. And don't even get me started on the pressure of picking the right flowers. There's a whole secret language to it. Red roses mean love, yellow roses mean friendship, and white roses mean innocence. So, if you give someone a bouquet of rainbow-colored roses, does that mean you're in a polyamorous friendship with benefits?
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I tried wearing a flower in my lapel once, thinking I'd look sophisticated. Turns out, it's not as easy as it seems. I stuck it in, and immediately someone asked me if I was running for office. I was like, "No, I just wanted to accessorize!" Now I know why politicians always have that awkward smile - it's the discomfort of a poorly pinned flower. And then there's the whole issue of what side to wear it on. Apparently, if you wear it on the left, you're taken, and on the right, you're available. I wore it in the middle once, and people thought I was a relationship Switzerland - neutral and not taking sides!
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I went to a flower shop the other day, and the florist asked me if I wanted a card with the flowers. I said, "Sure, why not?" So she hands me this tiny card and a pen. Now, I'm standing there trying to condense my feelings into a space the size of a fortune cookie message. It's like emotional origami - fold it small enough, and maybe she won't notice it's not that deep! And can we talk about the prices? I feel like I need a loan application just to buy a decent bouquet. I asked the florist, "Is there a discount for emotional distress?" She didn't find it as amusing as I did.
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