Mow Glee

Mary got me this speaker cabinet and IT IS AWESOME! And it arrived just in time to start posting music again. I had been avoiding Facebook like the plague. Well, I’m not really avoiding the plague. It’s not like I’m all “I don’t go to Guitar Center because the plague is there.” It’s not, I think, but there may be a band called The Plague shopping there, in which case I would avoid it because that’s a lousy name for a band. The point is, I’m not avoiding the plague. Wait, that’s not my point. What is my point? OH! I was avoiding Facebook because of all the political stuff on there.

So the other day, Mary asked me to try a recipe she shared on Facebook and when I went through her timeline to find it, THERE WAS NOTHING BUT POLITICAL STUFF! I was like, “Who are you and what have you done with my wife?” Then she mowed the lawn yesterday and I was like, “Oh, there she is.”
Watching Mary mow is like watching bats fly around a streetlight; totally amusing and completely unpredictable. I’ll be playing guitar, watching her out of the window, and my brain will place bets with itself.

Right Side: “I’ll bet thrash licks that she does U-turn and goes parallel to the last pass.”

Left Side: “I bet funky licks that she does an ampersand.”

Left and Right Sides: “What the…”

ChukaChukaCrunchCrunchCrunchPluckatyPopPopPoppityPaWauWau

I think the PGA should hire her to mow and REALLY make things interesting.
Whispering Announcer: “Spieth hits a beauty and…it hits the green FROM 650 YARDS! It’s rolling towards the pin! This could be the greatest shot in histoAwwww. The ball hit a 10 inch swath of unmowed grass in the middle of the green.”

A couple of years ago my neighbor gave me his golf clubs. We were talking in the street and out of the blue he asks “You want some golf clubs?” I replied “What kind?” then immediately said “Check that, YES!” Asking “What kind?” is like someone saying “Here’s a couple hundred bucks. You can have it.” and answering “Eh, what size bills is it?” The correct answer is “Paaaartay!” Anyways, he pulled the clubs out of his trunk (he must’ve come back from a REALLY bad round) and gave them to me and they’ve been in my storage shed ever since.

I’m waiting until Mary mows the golf course to make it challenging.

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