so, here’s the deal…
…it’s been a crap weekend, i’m in a crap mood, and so i threw in my archive pen and “spun the wheel”. literally. my mouse doesn’t have a clicker on the scroll wheel, so i got in the menu and spun it like i was on the price is right and shit. landed on this old entry – enjoy!
04/21/2002: “beer or children”
i need to either start drinking beer or get kids. today i REALLY lived up to the sticker on the back of my car. the other night, after the hockey game when we went to dinner, JAB mentioned he needed to cut his grass, and i let him know mine was actually worse than his. “no problem,” he replied, “i’ll loan you our riding mower on sunday so you can do yours really easily”. SWEET.
so they call me today, and i find out that i can come get the riding mower and DRIVE it back to my house. this is almost TOO white trash for me. it’s one thing if they live on your block. or even in your neighborhood. but JAB’s place is about a mile away from my house. since beggers can’t be choosers, i start to change into “mowin’ gear” and decide to trash it up a bit for the drive over.
i’ve been told by more than one woman (although mainly by one woman) that i look pretty good in a wife-beater, which is standard white trash wear. problem is, i’m a bit of a label whore, so all my white ones have the little polo horse embroidered in navy on the bottom, and the others were dirty. hard to be white trash with the little horse on the bottom – then you’re just white trash with a dillards account. by the way, i figured up why women like a guy in a ‘beater. sure, it’s got that macho facade to it, and if you work out a bit and have decent pecs (52″ on this end) and arms (okay, my arms need some work) they look pretty good on you. but they’re also all made out of ribbed cotton, which means when she hugs you, your whole torso is “ribbed, for mutal pleasure”. but, i digress….
i decided on levis jean shorts, these sandals i’ve got that look like slippers (hey, it’s not like i’ll be PUSHING the damn thing…or so i thought, but we’ll get to that in a bit), and my t-shirt from the 1998 Sta-Bil Pro Lawn Mower Racing Association Nationals…how’s THAT for some redneck wear?
then, went to their place, hopped on the mower, and away i went. sipping on a root beer, but it was an IBC, the kind that comes in the brown glass bottle. i’m sorry, but if you’re going distance on a riding lawn mower, you either need to be drinking a beer, or hawling kids in a wagon behind you. someday, i’d REALLY like to have kids. but i don’t right now, and i hate the taste of beer. this was just as close as it got. the cool thing is, even when you look as scary as me, if you’re on a briggs & stratton cherry red lawn mower, old people will wave at you.
get back, do 2/3rds of my front yard, and CLUNK…mower dies. for no reason. i was just driving back across the yard not actually MOWING anything at the time. and it wouldn’t start back up. between me and JAB, we couldn’t get it to. then the back wheels wouldn’t go into neutral anymore, so when he brought his truck over with some ramps, we had to pick up the back end, and just roll it up the ramp on the front wheels. i whipped out my push mower and finished up.
i can’t believe my yard was bad enough to kill that mower.
i guess that’s another magic thing about having kids. at first, they’re small enough to where when you need to borrow your buddy’s riding mower (like he’ll ever lend it to me again after i killed it), you can put your kids on a little trailer on back, and you no longer look like a redneck…you look like a cool dad. then when they get to old to help you fight off the white trash image that way, you just sit in your chair wearing your wife beater / boxer combo and let the KID mow the damn grass. then give him an ibc so he can look the part when he drives the mower back to uncle JAB’s place….
kinda odd to read some of the shit i wrote over eight years ago…