Cruel irony, of the lasting kind

Jim hated gardening. With a passion. Never mowed the lawn once in his life. Had a slab of concrete poured in the front garden. And two tons of gravel scattered in the back garden, for good measure. He would spray some weed killer twice a year while smoking his JP blue with a sneer (he was quite the multitasker). 
He always said loudly to whoever would listen that inedible plants were a waste of time and gardening a pain in the balls. 

Now there is a tree growing out of his crotch.