But no. No, I shall not be seduced by mint juleps and mojitos, only to welcome my own mortal enemy into my kingdom. I'm not going to Cersei myself, even if this one would taste like toothpaste instead of sibling.
This has taught me a lot about modern society. First: It's awesome. The further away it gets me from manual labor, the better. The closest I come to working with my hands to satisfy animal urges is Internet pornography, and even that is based entirely on technology and other people doing all the hard bits for me.
And the hard bits doing all the other people.
I've learned that any future kids I have might be in trouble. I resent even being made to look after grass, and that's as little work as plants can require of you without letting you fall unconscious and growing a pod person.
Second, and most importantly, I've learned that I committed the cardinal error of the mastermind under attack from plucky little enemies: refusing to commit sufficient resources to destroying the only remaining threat. I didn't bring the big machines to fight this battle because I thought it too small to bother with, and now here I am, weeks later, having spent hours on my knees in front of a relentless enemy.
No more! I have sent words to the metalsmiths of Flymo to fashion me a chariot of whirling death powered by the liquid corpses of ancient plants, while I drink the liquid corpses of more recent plants. The miniscule British summer is already near over, and the seasons will shift in my favor once more. I'm bringing superior technology to bear, AND I know winter is coming. I'm going to double-Stark these motherpollinators.
For another victory over plants, enjoy the Truth About Tequila.
Read propaganda in the battle with botany in 10 Creepy Plants That Shouldn't Exist, or replace your garden with 6 Mind-Blowing Things People Built in Their Backyard.
Luke also found something smarter than steampunk, tumbles, and responds to every single tweet.