12/3 INVASIVE SPECIES REMOVAL WITH TROUT UNLIMITED WOOOOOOOOOO

MEET @ 8AM @ MEM U PARKING CIRCLE!!! Please bring SNACKS, WATER, CLOSED-TOE SHOES, LONG PANTS, and, most importantly, SOME SERIOUS STOKEEEE. If you let us know @ trailbuilding@hooferouting.org that you can drive, we can bring more people and we will love you forever.

I am a sick tree, I am a spiteful tree, I am an unattractive tree . . . I am a boxelder tree.

I think there's something fundamentally flawed about me—I'm structurally unsound, extremely vulnerable to storms, and attract tons of boxelder bugs. I'll also grow anywhere—I'm possibly one of the most prolific invasive trees since suburbanization. It's like I can't make up my mind whether I want to live or die. Still, I refuse to change, purely out of spite. I'd rather grow everywhere, very fast, and moan about my unhappiness to anyone who'll listen.

I find a sick sort of satisfaction in spreading my misery everywhere I go. Even as I slowly die, I taunt the unborn trees I edged out of the ecosystem. As the boxelder bugs munch away at my leaves and slowly expand to the other trees that dare grow around me, I laugh and moan and- CREAK. I love when everyone near me flinches at that sound. Who knew one's own misery could be so entertaining.

Sometimes, I'll see some young foals prancing near my rivers, exuberant—almost showing off their health and wellness. It makes me sick. I like to lure those unsuspecting fools over with the promise of cool shade. Then, when they eventually begin to nibble at the seeds I've casually scattered around my base, I wait as the protoxin within them slowly destroys their muscles and brains, and cackle.

I hate it here—or maybe I don't. I'm a drain on ecosystems—literally—or maybe they're the ones hurting me. Perhaps you should learn more on 12/3 from Trout Unlimited before making up your mind...