Dear Adam Powers:
Today I mowed my lawn. Don’t be startled; I promise you I had supervision. My neighbor Webster sat on the porch and watched me the whole time. I know what you’re thinking, I know. You’re thinking, “Mandey, isn’t Webster the one who was beating his wife the other day and you had to make that anonymous phone call to the policecops so they could come and unlock his three screaming children from the car in 102 degree heat because that’s where they had been stored during the three hours it took for the domestic incident to unfold? What makes you think he will protect you?”
Adam, thank you for your concern. But see, I have it all figured out. I live in the GHETTO, remember? Webster and I have a special bond because I gave him a free television as a peace offering. He looks out for me.
So I was a little upset when my landlord threatened to evict us because we refused to take care of our grass. As far as I am concerned, our grass was the only reason we hadn’t been broken into like every. Single. Other. House. On. Our. Street. MY reasoning was that if the bad guys can’t see the house behind the lawn/moat, they won’t know it’s there to rob.
Good idea, huh?
So I boycotted the lawn for a year. Well, my dad got sad that I might get evicted, so he brought me a lawnmower yesterday. He got it off Craigslist for ten dollars and he chained it to the couch underneath my carport.
I TOLD you I lived in the ghetto. I’m allowed to chain my lawncare machines to the outdoor living room setup. As you can see, there is also a crockpot out there in case we ever get real hongre’.
Okay, so I mowed the lawn. And let me tell you, while other girls may have to marry rich, I in fact have to marry HANDY. I may be the WORST lawnmower EVER. I tried that whole “pattern” thing and it did not work. I simply mowed wherever it looked bad. I am sure I looked both blind and drunk throughout the ordeal. But this mower was badass. It tore through plastic drinking straws like nobody’s bidness. And this I know because there were no less than six (6) plastic drinking straws scattered among the detritus on the lawn. I tried to clean it all up beforehand, but the grass masked all the trash. I found, while mowing:
1. One phone charger
2. Four Frisbees
3. One duck-shaped bathmat
4. A bag of Fritos
5. One shoe from a toddler’s Princess Dress-up Kit (!)
6. Copious amounts of aluminum foil
7. One Christmas-themed sock
And I promptly destroyed it all with the mower. I also ran over a bush. No lie. I SHREDDED that shrubbery. It was amazing. I didn’t know it was a bush until I hit the trunk of it and it stopped the mower dead in its tracks.
This is a picture Webster took of me with my new friend. My dad wants to know what I named the mower. Any suggestions? The name “Murray” keeps popping into my head though I don’t know why. Weird, huh?
And get this. As an added bonus, when my roommate found out I mowed the lawn, he felt so guilty because:
1. He was supposed to do it
2. He knows it is a terrible idea to put these sorts of tools in my possession, because I tend to hurt myself doing just about anything. . .
. . .that he went straight to the store and came back with a PBR and an Ice Cream Drumstick as rewards for my hard work!