It’s good to know our 2007 campaign to Free Ookie has finally reached a conclusion. I’m sure the efforts here have had a dramatic impact on this. Thanks to everyone for their hard work. And by hard work I mean, texting me whenever there was anything Ookie related, yelling out, “Free Mike Vick” on Good Morning America, and generally, just putting up with my crap and not reporting me to the authorities. I got the news about his signing with Philly while at a bar and it will probably be one of those “I knew exactly where I was when it happened” moments in my life. Aptly enough, it was a bar called McFadden’s, which was the subject of the next Barney Show ridiculous initiative. I’ve avoided it for 2 years because I think I’m just now over my man crush on Run DMC, Darren McFadden (Hold on? Why did I not use this nickname back in my track days? Run BMC? Honoring the immortal Tim Hardaway, Mitch Richmond and Chris Mullins? Dammit. The lesson here? I was a dumbass in high school). The one downside of being at a bar last night was that I was surrounded by Redskins, Ravens (Including one douchebag in a U of Delaware Joe Flacco jersey. Vegas was giving 4-1 odds of me and him going at it at some point), Steeler, and yes, even one Cardinals fan.
Before we get more into the Ookie situation, let’s go through my night, shall we? Why not? It’s not like you have anything better to do. I promise it’s Ookie related. We were at McFadden’s because a friend of a friend won a happy hour which allowed any of his friends drinks for $2. This sounds like a good deal. I ended up with a $120 tab. Apparently Jaeger and Jack were not on the $2 list. And I ended up by multiple rounds of shots for people. And I decided the $2 drinks were not strong enough to get me drunk. Well fuck me silly. After I was sufficiently sauced, we proceeded to another bar, because hey, it’s on the way home. Why not? As solid reasoning if I’ve ever heard. It was me and this girl, her roommate, and who I was assuming was her roommate’s boyfriend. We were playing darts and drinking beer.
Ok, stage is set. Let’s get to the fun part. Roommate’s boyfriend (we’ll refer to him as Fuckface for the rest of this story) was a Va Tech grad. Being that I have limited social skills to talk to normal people, this provided me a chance to engage in what other people call “casual conversation” being that Vick was in the news that night. (Quick backtrack. The roommate was pretty hot, until I found out she was a lobbyist. Only she wouldn’t say she was a lobbyist, she had some fancy name. I would too if my actual title was the Whoring Myself Out to Cripple Democracy. I’ve tried to avoid these people like the plague. I decided to mix it up a bit with her and asked, “Well how good are you at your job? Could you get me to switch sides on an issue?” She refused to give a straight answer, just kept blurting out something like, “It depends on what my client wanted.” Seriously, go get fucked. Then I found out she was a lobbyist for some bullshit environmental firm. Wow. It took a lot of power not to go find a pool stick and crack it over her head. The point of this is that I had already been provoked. Aren’t you glad I’m back? Where else on the internet can you find someone who so steadfastly refuses to stick to a single plot line? ) We were exchanging some opinions (and you can probably guess how he feels about PETA based on who his girlfriend works for) until I asked, “What do you have against the guy? He was the best football player in your schools history.” This apparently set him off because he got all up in my grill and started telling me that he wasn’t the best because of the horrible things he did. My retort, “What does that have to do with anything he did on the field”, while a clear and logical, did not seem to resonate with Fuckface, who continued to make dumbass comments as you would expect from someone who thinks PETA is awesome about football. While he continued to chase his own tail logically, I had some pretty good lines, if I must say so myself.
“You didn’t go to a real football school. Virginia Tech plays in the fucking ACC.”“Wait, you considered last year a good year? You played Cinci-fucking-natti in a bowl game.”
“In the words of the great Clinton Portis, ‘We’re talking about daws, man. Fightin’ dawgs.’”
“Why are you bringing Marcus into this? What did he ever do to anyone?” (That was my favorite line of the whole thing. Leave it up to me to defend the honor of Marcus Vick)
This went back and forth for about 10 minutes. I was getting closer and closer to just ending it and coming over the top with my beer bottle. I saw where this was going and while shit faced, did realize that spending 2 years in jail was a little too high of a price to pay for my Free Ookie campaign. About this time, I said, “He led your team to the only national championship you’ve ever gone to and almost beat a great Florida State team by himself in the Sugar Bowl. How is that not the most successful player in Va Tech’s history?”
Let’s pause for a second to prepare yourself for the single dumbest comeback I have ever heard. Ready? Ok, here we go. “Well, that’s if you want to measure success by national championships.” Holy. Fucking. Shit. The other defense lawyer from My Cousin Vinny had better arguments than that. Let’s question the measurement of something by asking if the very definition of that measurement is valid. This guy must have been great in physics class. Other lines Fuckface has probably uttered?“Well, that’s if you want to measure distance by feet.”
“Who uses the Dewey Decimal System to classify books?”
“Why would you want to measure my gayness on the Brady Quinn scale?”
Hov wants said, “A wise man once told me, don’t argue with fools. Cause from a distance, people can’t tell who is who.” I followed this philosophy and simply walked out of the bar. Didn’t say anything. Just walked out. Got on my phone and left a voicemail with Brock that started off, “I just passed up pussy in the name of Ookie.” And you wonder why I’m single?
Alright, I promised you some actual thoughts on this, so here we go:
- I just wish I could have seen Desmond McNabb (He’ll always be Desmond McNabb to me. And maybe one person gets that joke. Way to go grab a larger audience you moron) when Andy Reid told him they were signing Vick. I’m starting to think the Eagles exist only as a psychological experiment to see how far they can push McNabb before he just quits.
- I’m glad to see him sign with Philly. It makes my job of making semi-witty comments that much easier. For Monday Morning Hangover’s this year, you’ll see a lot of (insert joke about Philly fans booing here) and then (insert joke about Vick being nothing compared to Andy Reid’s kids here).
- I won’t go into it the sheer volume of hypocrisy too much because it will just get me frustrated, but this morning’s Sunday Conversation featured an NFL player who was actually involved in a person’s death, not dogs. No protests there.
- Any chance he gets worked into a plot of “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia”? Or is that asking for too much?
- Now that Ookie is signed, who’s the next lost cause to get The Barney Show endorsement? Anyone know when Maurice Clarett gets out?
Since I’ve asked four straight questions, I think it’s time to wrap this up. Just remember kids: Stick to the script. Ookie over bitches.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Texas Toast
“This is the chronicles of Killa, and don’t smoke ‘cause the chronic it’ll kill ya.”
-Cam’ron
Thanks for the intro, Killa Cam (Do you know how hard it is to get a rap quote with the word “chronicles” in it?) We’re back with the chronicles of Mr. Twenty Percent, now providing 27.3% more inspiration: Brock is planning on doing some sort of Michael Jackson “Billie Jean” tribute incorporating this. Because nothing gives Jacko a shout out like talking about 3 year olds. Me, I think it’s just an excuse for him to wear his fedora.
I was planning on doing a special two part Texas Toast, since last weekend my daughter came to NY to see my family, but I just didn’t get around to it. (Man, I could have had a cliff hanger. I’m all about incorporating literary devices into this bullshit blog, aren’t I?). Instead, you get a multi-state Texas Toast. Now take a deep breath to prepare yourself for this incredible event. (Good? Ok, just checking). Editor's Note: The events depicted here occurred July 17-27. I was just lazy.
“Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor?” – Animal House
Quick setup: My daughter and baby moms flew up to NY on a Tuesday, spent Wednesday and Thursday with my mom’s side of the family and they Thursday night went to my dad’s family reunion in the Poconos. I met up with them late Friday night.
Saturday morning, I was awakened early to go see a theatrical production of The Jungle Book. We then went to a German festival called “The Wurst Festival.” We’re trying to raise our child to never turn down an ethnic festival that has a bad pun involving sausages, so we were obliged to go. Now you would think that a German festival would have two things in abundance and variety: sausages and beer. They really slipped on the second part. Not that I was drinking since I had to drive home with my daughter (My liver would really, really, really appreciate it if I spent more time with her), but I was interested in seeing the assortment. Instead, they had the fine selection of Budweiser and Bud Light. Yes, they were drinking Bud at a beer garden. That’s sacrilege.
“If she doesn't reach over and lift up that button so that you can get in, that means she's a selfish broad and all you're seeing is the tip of the iceberg. You dump her and you dump her fast.” – Bronx Tale
Another fun part of having a family reunion is seeing people you haven’t seen in a few years. One thing I didn’t know? Apparently I have Italians in my family. Don’t let the little fact that I think their dad is Jewish and their mom Irish fool you. Those tight shirts, gelled hair and gold chains say otherwise. Hey, if they can bring some better cooking to holidays, I’m all for it (that would also imply that I’m sober enough at these to have taste buds).
The best part for them was that I all prepared to make sarcastic jokes about their education (If Tim Tebow tears an ACL this season, your entire science department would stop whatever they were doing and focus on advanced knee bionics and then when that failed, cloning Tim Tebow. I’m supposed to respect that education?), and instead they show up looking like they’re not from Florida, but Staten Island. That really threw me off my game. I’ll admit, I didn’t bring the funny like I should have. But please believe that I’m watching a Godfather, Goodfellas, Bronx Tale marathon prior to the next time we meet.
“G-G-G-G-G- G-G-G-G- Unit” – Everyone in New York in 2002
Alright, on to Texas. On Friday night, I took my daughter to see the new movie, G-Force. Yes, that’s the one with guinea pigs who try to save the world, and the premise is as ridiculous as that sounds. But my daughter just got a hamster as a pet (to replace the gold fish that I killed the last time I was down here), so this seemed like a good way to kill 2 hours. I got a text from Chubb Rock saying it was the # 1 movie in America this weekend and it did not surprise me at all. That place was packed. How packed you ask? The line would have been around the block. Except that don’t’ play that whole “sidewalk” shit in Texas. They just kept the line straight, and be damned if it went out into the parking lot. They effectively blocked off the entire first lane of the parking lot. It was highly entertaining to see cars drive up looking for parking only to realize they couldn’t because these morons were just standing in the street, when there was a perfectly good sidewalk right next to it. (I’m thinking this whole multi-state Texas Toast thing is just an excuse to rip the education systems across America). And to answer your question, yes, I did try to get my daughter to say, “G-G-G-G-G- G-G-G-G-Force.” Didn’t catch on.
“Boom, Boom, Pow” – Black Eyed Peas
If you recall from the last Texas Toast, my daughter has moved from kids songs to listening to the radio full time. Her favorite song right now is that stupid Boom, Boom, Pow one from the Black Eyed Peas (I’m sorry, I should give them the benefit of the doubt, but ESPN played that “Let’s get it started” song one too many times for me during the 2005 playoffs. And yes, I will hold this against them even though it wasn’t their fault. Wait, they agreed to the deal and even changed their lyrics from, “Let’s get retarded”, to “Let’s get it started.” So fuck them.) So now our rides consist of me flipping from radio station to radio station and she yells from the back seat, “Change it”. On the plus side, my daughter was singing the phrase, “Jackin’ my swagger.” Say what you want about Gilbert Arenas, but he popularized the word Swag so much that 3 year olds in Texas are now using it. And even though my following of the rap game has dropped off, no one did more to promote that word than Agent 0 did. And for that, I will be eternally grateful.
“She L-L-L-L-L-L-icked me like a lollipop.” – Lil Wayne
Continuing on the radio tip, I’m flipping through and the chorus comes on as soon as I turn to the station. Which prompts the question from the backseat, “Daddy, why is he singing about a lollipop?” “Ummmm…”. I quickly resorted to the old point and yell out, “Look over there” technique while changing to the CD I had in. Luckily, she does like “Love Lockdown” so I was able to avoid disaster. She actually really enjoyed 808s and Heartbreak to the point where she was doing all of these arm movements in the backseat. That’s good because I think that’s the only CD I own that I would approve of her listening to (Check that. We will one day rock out to Johnny Cash.)
“I’m sorry Ms. Jackson, I am for real.” – OutKast
I didn’t go back and check this (detailed oriented fact checker I am not), but I think this is the first time I’ve actually used this song in a quote. Surprising. (I’ll give you the requisite 30 seconds to strap yourself back into your seat from that surprise…Still here…Not going anywhere…You ready?...Ok, we’ll get back to the story.) I had a conversation with my daughter’s grandmother in which she said to me, “I was telling one of my friends that you [Barney] were too good for my daughter.” (I’ll pause again for you to come out of shock…Thinking of the Ron Artest article in Sports Illustrated I read on the way down…he’s looking for takers on his reality show he’s developing…I might quit my job to watch that 24/7 if it comes out…ok, ready to proceed? Let’s go.) Who knew rampant alcoholism and a propensity to work 60-70 hour weeks was so respected. Apparently, it all boils down to the fact that I am quote, “really nice.” So strike one up in the corner for “Repressing emotions and releasing them through alcohol”. It’s only down 3,587 to “Being an emotionally stable person,” but I think it’s poised for a comeback.
“Quit hatin’ the South.” – UGK
I’ll be the first one to give the South some respect when it comes to the rap game, but this weekend might have done more to change that than anything else I can think of. Quick, which artist was a radio DJ in Dallas talking about when she said, “New music for you. Some of you need to expand your horizons and not just listen to The Stanky Leg”? Hint: it was not a newly signed rapper from the underground on an indie label. If you guessed Jay-Z, you would be correct. Not only was it Hov, it was featuring Kanye West and Rihanna. I know I haven’t been up on the rap game as I would like, but I’m fairly certain those are still relevant artists. I’m just going to stop now before my head explodes (Though maybe it’s not just Dallas. Brock let me know that Fabolous’s new album is a big deal in NYC. Who knew? That “Put it in the Bag” song is terrible.)
Finally, after travelling the past two weekends through various cities, I’m issuing a challenge. If anyone can get through the entire radio dial without hearing “Every Girl in the World” or “Best I Ever Had”, you win. I don’t think I went more than 5 minutes without hearing one of those songs.
“That. Was. Awesome. Sorry about your car man.” - Tommy Boy
As we further our explorations into issues with cars in back country and animals, on Saturday night, we took a trip out to somebody’s ranch. I hadn’t thought far enough ahead to have a plan Saturday night so they picked up on this and invited me to something I couldn’t really turn down. I spent an hour playing ping pong if you’re interested. No fishing for me. The adventure came on the way home. I was down to less than an eighth of a tank of gas. I asked about taking a way home that included a gas station so I could refill my tank accordingly. This simple request was overturned and the person I was following decided it would be prudent to take only back roads on the way home. And by back roads I mean single lane roads without dividers, that sometimes are only dirt, and which we had to stop twice because there were cattle on the side of the road. I had to drive 25 miles with the engine light on with a 4 year old, and two 13 year olds yammering on about whatever nonsense they talk about. While trying to figure out how I would respond to being at least 15 miles from the nearest form of civilization should this run out, I realized, “You know what? Based on this car ride, I never want to have another kid.”
Alright, before I wrap this up, let’s get to the other cultural milestones of this great land that is Texas that are quick hitters:
- Apparently, it’s ok for a 40 year old man to get on a plane wearing a cut off t-shirt and shorts while being at least 50 pounds overweight.
- The big reason we went out to the ranch on Saturday night was to pick up fish that had been caught that day. I assumed this was for eating purposes. No. They merely wanted to take the fish they had caught in this lake and transport them to another lake. Why? I imagine to stock the lake that they owned, but I’m not sure. So to sum up, they spent an entire day fishing merely to reallocate the catfish population in lakes in East Texas. The whole thing was so retarded, I didn’t even want to ask in case the answer was even stupider.
- People love to mow their lawns. I mean really do. It’s a form of recreation down here. And this is a fact…I have never mowed a lawn in my life. The closest I ever came was standing there and watching French Ben mow his parents lawn, in which he promptly ran over the lawnmower’s electrical cord. Ahh, good times.
-Cam’ron
Thanks for the intro, Killa Cam (Do you know how hard it is to get a rap quote with the word “chronicles” in it?) We’re back with the chronicles of Mr. Twenty Percent, now providing 27.3% more inspiration: Brock is planning on doing some sort of Michael Jackson “Billie Jean” tribute incorporating this. Because nothing gives Jacko a shout out like talking about 3 year olds. Me, I think it’s just an excuse for him to wear his fedora.
I was planning on doing a special two part Texas Toast, since last weekend my daughter came to NY to see my family, but I just didn’t get around to it. (Man, I could have had a cliff hanger. I’m all about incorporating literary devices into this bullshit blog, aren’t I?). Instead, you get a multi-state Texas Toast. Now take a deep breath to prepare yourself for this incredible event. (Good? Ok, just checking). Editor's Note: The events depicted here occurred July 17-27. I was just lazy.
“Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor?” – Animal House
Quick setup: My daughter and baby moms flew up to NY on a Tuesday, spent Wednesday and Thursday with my mom’s side of the family and they Thursday night went to my dad’s family reunion in the Poconos. I met up with them late Friday night.
Saturday morning, I was awakened early to go see a theatrical production of The Jungle Book. We then went to a German festival called “The Wurst Festival.” We’re trying to raise our child to never turn down an ethnic festival that has a bad pun involving sausages, so we were obliged to go. Now you would think that a German festival would have two things in abundance and variety: sausages and beer. They really slipped on the second part. Not that I was drinking since I had to drive home with my daughter (My liver would really, really, really appreciate it if I spent more time with her), but I was interested in seeing the assortment. Instead, they had the fine selection of Budweiser and Bud Light. Yes, they were drinking Bud at a beer garden. That’s sacrilege.
“If she doesn't reach over and lift up that button so that you can get in, that means she's a selfish broad and all you're seeing is the tip of the iceberg. You dump her and you dump her fast.” – Bronx Tale
Another fun part of having a family reunion is seeing people you haven’t seen in a few years. One thing I didn’t know? Apparently I have Italians in my family. Don’t let the little fact that I think their dad is Jewish and their mom Irish fool you. Those tight shirts, gelled hair and gold chains say otherwise. Hey, if they can bring some better cooking to holidays, I’m all for it (that would also imply that I’m sober enough at these to have taste buds).
The best part for them was that I all prepared to make sarcastic jokes about their education (If Tim Tebow tears an ACL this season, your entire science department would stop whatever they were doing and focus on advanced knee bionics and then when that failed, cloning Tim Tebow. I’m supposed to respect that education?), and instead they show up looking like they’re not from Florida, but Staten Island. That really threw me off my game. I’ll admit, I didn’t bring the funny like I should have. But please believe that I’m watching a Godfather, Goodfellas, Bronx Tale marathon prior to the next time we meet.
“G-G-G-G-G- G-G-G-G- Unit” – Everyone in New York in 2002
Alright, on to Texas. On Friday night, I took my daughter to see the new movie, G-Force. Yes, that’s the one with guinea pigs who try to save the world, and the premise is as ridiculous as that sounds. But my daughter just got a hamster as a pet (to replace the gold fish that I killed the last time I was down here), so this seemed like a good way to kill 2 hours. I got a text from Chubb Rock saying it was the # 1 movie in America this weekend and it did not surprise me at all. That place was packed. How packed you ask? The line would have been around the block. Except that don’t’ play that whole “sidewalk” shit in Texas. They just kept the line straight, and be damned if it went out into the parking lot. They effectively blocked off the entire first lane of the parking lot. It was highly entertaining to see cars drive up looking for parking only to realize they couldn’t because these morons were just standing in the street, when there was a perfectly good sidewalk right next to it. (I’m thinking this whole multi-state Texas Toast thing is just an excuse to rip the education systems across America). And to answer your question, yes, I did try to get my daughter to say, “G-G-G-G-G- G-G-G-G-Force.” Didn’t catch on.
“Boom, Boom, Pow” – Black Eyed Peas
If you recall from the last Texas Toast, my daughter has moved from kids songs to listening to the radio full time. Her favorite song right now is that stupid Boom, Boom, Pow one from the Black Eyed Peas (I’m sorry, I should give them the benefit of the doubt, but ESPN played that “Let’s get it started” song one too many times for me during the 2005 playoffs. And yes, I will hold this against them even though it wasn’t their fault. Wait, they agreed to the deal and even changed their lyrics from, “Let’s get retarded”, to “Let’s get it started.” So fuck them.) So now our rides consist of me flipping from radio station to radio station and she yells from the back seat, “Change it”. On the plus side, my daughter was singing the phrase, “Jackin’ my swagger.” Say what you want about Gilbert Arenas, but he popularized the word Swag so much that 3 year olds in Texas are now using it. And even though my following of the rap game has dropped off, no one did more to promote that word than Agent 0 did. And for that, I will be eternally grateful.
“She L-L-L-L-L-L-icked me like a lollipop.” – Lil Wayne
Continuing on the radio tip, I’m flipping through and the chorus comes on as soon as I turn to the station. Which prompts the question from the backseat, “Daddy, why is he singing about a lollipop?” “Ummmm…”. I quickly resorted to the old point and yell out, “Look over there” technique while changing to the CD I had in. Luckily, she does like “Love Lockdown” so I was able to avoid disaster. She actually really enjoyed 808s and Heartbreak to the point where she was doing all of these arm movements in the backseat. That’s good because I think that’s the only CD I own that I would approve of her listening to (Check that. We will one day rock out to Johnny Cash.)
“I’m sorry Ms. Jackson, I am for real.” – OutKast
I didn’t go back and check this (detailed oriented fact checker I am not), but I think this is the first time I’ve actually used this song in a quote. Surprising. (I’ll give you the requisite 30 seconds to strap yourself back into your seat from that surprise…Still here…Not going anywhere…You ready?...Ok, we’ll get back to the story.) I had a conversation with my daughter’s grandmother in which she said to me, “I was telling one of my friends that you [Barney] were too good for my daughter.” (I’ll pause again for you to come out of shock…Thinking of the Ron Artest article in Sports Illustrated I read on the way down…he’s looking for takers on his reality show he’s developing…I might quit my job to watch that 24/7 if it comes out…ok, ready to proceed? Let’s go.) Who knew rampant alcoholism and a propensity to work 60-70 hour weeks was so respected. Apparently, it all boils down to the fact that I am quote, “really nice.” So strike one up in the corner for “Repressing emotions and releasing them through alcohol”. It’s only down 3,587 to “Being an emotionally stable person,” but I think it’s poised for a comeback.
“Quit hatin’ the South.” – UGK
I’ll be the first one to give the South some respect when it comes to the rap game, but this weekend might have done more to change that than anything else I can think of. Quick, which artist was a radio DJ in Dallas talking about when she said, “New music for you. Some of you need to expand your horizons and not just listen to The Stanky Leg”? Hint: it was not a newly signed rapper from the underground on an indie label. If you guessed Jay-Z, you would be correct. Not only was it Hov, it was featuring Kanye West and Rihanna. I know I haven’t been up on the rap game as I would like, but I’m fairly certain those are still relevant artists. I’m just going to stop now before my head explodes (Though maybe it’s not just Dallas. Brock let me know that Fabolous’s new album is a big deal in NYC. Who knew? That “Put it in the Bag” song is terrible.)
Finally, after travelling the past two weekends through various cities, I’m issuing a challenge. If anyone can get through the entire radio dial without hearing “Every Girl in the World” or “Best I Ever Had”, you win. I don’t think I went more than 5 minutes without hearing one of those songs.
“That. Was. Awesome. Sorry about your car man.” - Tommy Boy
As we further our explorations into issues with cars in back country and animals, on Saturday night, we took a trip out to somebody’s ranch. I hadn’t thought far enough ahead to have a plan Saturday night so they picked up on this and invited me to something I couldn’t really turn down. I spent an hour playing ping pong if you’re interested. No fishing for me. The adventure came on the way home. I was down to less than an eighth of a tank of gas. I asked about taking a way home that included a gas station so I could refill my tank accordingly. This simple request was overturned and the person I was following decided it would be prudent to take only back roads on the way home. And by back roads I mean single lane roads without dividers, that sometimes are only dirt, and which we had to stop twice because there were cattle on the side of the road. I had to drive 25 miles with the engine light on with a 4 year old, and two 13 year olds yammering on about whatever nonsense they talk about. While trying to figure out how I would respond to being at least 15 miles from the nearest form of civilization should this run out, I realized, “You know what? Based on this car ride, I never want to have another kid.”
Alright, before I wrap this up, let’s get to the other cultural milestones of this great land that is Texas that are quick hitters:
- Apparently, it’s ok for a 40 year old man to get on a plane wearing a cut off t-shirt and shorts while being at least 50 pounds overweight.
- The big reason we went out to the ranch on Saturday night was to pick up fish that had been caught that day. I assumed this was for eating purposes. No. They merely wanted to take the fish they had caught in this lake and transport them to another lake. Why? I imagine to stock the lake that they owned, but I’m not sure. So to sum up, they spent an entire day fishing merely to reallocate the catfish population in lakes in East Texas. The whole thing was so retarded, I didn’t even want to ask in case the answer was even stupider.
- People love to mow their lawns. I mean really do. It’s a form of recreation down here. And this is a fact…I have never mowed a lawn in my life. The closest I ever came was standing there and watching French Ben mow his parents lawn, in which he promptly ran over the lawnmower’s electrical cord. Ahh, good times.
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