Straight lines are rad, but never when they jibe with latititude and longitude. That seems to be the mindset of Oregonians. I've lived in many places with nicer lawns than the High Desert, and never in one was it trendy to mow from, say, the corner of one's driveway to the opposite corner by the fence.
But paramount in importance is having the greenest lawn on your block. No amount of chemicals is too much for MY lawn, the conformity-minded dooshaholic seems to be thinking, if he's capable of thought.
What is it with the guys here, who fall into the stereotypes every time? Jock douche who lives for sports? Check. Greenest lawn? Well, we've already been over that, but check regardless. Mistreatment or early impregnation of womenfolk? Check.
Duh-er: "Do I have to keep answering these questions, or can I go grill out dinner for the eighth time this week?"
Go ahead, bromide. I'll take mine extra-carcinogenic.
I think I hate my gender.
Pinkwater out.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)