
The damn weed whacker, my nemesis; I can NOT for the life of me get the damn thing started. Something to do with short arms. Whatever.
Weed Whacker 1, me 0
I had to break down and ask soon to be ex to start the damn thing for me and the smirk he had on his face, cause I did need him for something. *eyeroll*
Weed Whacker 2, me 0
My mom told me I should put pants on while operating said weed whacker and I blew her off, to only get nailed a billion different times in the legs. I have marks all up and down my shins and calves...that looks really hot in my heels and skirt.
Weed Whacker 3, me 0
F*cking week whacker.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Weed Whacker 3, me 0
Labels:
weed wacker,
yardwork
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20 Sharing the Madness:
C'mon, pull up a therapy couch and tell me all about it...