What a great day it was today. The sun was perched up over the house with a big warm grin on its face, and for the first time this year it actually felt like a proper springtime afternoon. Now I didn’t want to insult Mother Nature by staying indoors, so I decided I‘d go give the lawn its second mowing of the season. I used to think that mowing the lawn was a chore, but that was before I’d advanced from the drudgery of push mowing to the pleasures of motorized lawn tractor mowing, which is really just an excuse for drinking a beer and smoking a cigar in the middle of the week, while driving around in circles. You can’t say that about vacuuming now can you ladies? Of course not, so into the closet the vacuum cleaner went, and out the back door I went to answer the beckoning call of a manlier chore, with an ice cold beer in one hand, and a counterfeit Cuban cigar in the other.
In no time at all I was out there on the track lapping the competition… “Outta my way donkey! Look out goat!” Around the tree, past the horseshoe pits, and down the fence line I went. Mowin’ and drinkin’ and smokin’ and bouncin’ my way around the rutted weed carpeted grounds of Johnson Manor. Then about a half a beer later as I was cruzin' by the back deck I thought to myself “Man, it just can’t get any better than this.”
But then a glint of golden sunlight bounced off the glass French doors over by the hot tub, and shot back across the deck straight toward my amber bottle of now warm foamy refreshment, which it struck with an inspiring sparkle that caused me to amend my previous thought to “Man, maybe it could get better than this.” Then I looked back up at those glass French doors as my thoughts continued to drift… “Maybe a topless woman could come walking out of that doorway there, and bring me a fresh ice cold bottle of beer.” You know, because I was working so hard.
Yep, that’s me, the eternal optimist. So as I was riding around the yard smoking like a chimney and drinking like a fish… oh yeah, and mowing the grass, I pulled out my phone and called up the wife up at work and said “Hey honey, why don’t you leave the office early today? …Yes, you deserve it …Yeah, and when you get home could you grab me a beer, but before you bring it outside to me could you take off your….”
“Hello? ...hello?”
Darn cell phones. She must have had a bad connection. Hmmm, maybe I should call her back. I forgot to tell her which kind of beer I wanted.
6 comments:
do us a favour, go set up some video recorders around the house before the wife gets home. you will need witnesses and we want a laugh.
but i digress i need to get me a drive on mower, my yard too big to do that walk thing.
Randy, not only are the eternal optimist, you have a VERY vivid, wild, and creative imagination. OR, maybe it's just that Mars/Venus thing....Believe me, I'd never have "thunk" this one up.
I may have watched too many beer commercials when I was younger, or maybe the sun just got to me.
Women vacuum in the buff with a glass of wine in hand. The only reason we don't mow on a lawn tractor, in our birthday suits, is because all that bouncing is...well...uh...kind of uncomfortable.
okay, this clearly qualifies you as a true twainian humorist. very funny stuff.
but i have to say, watch out bro. I used the same line once on keaton, and my call was uninterrupted but sometimes it is best when a girl is interrupted. that is unless of course you like the cold sting of a frozen pork chop against your lips.
I thought everyone vacuumed in the nude with a glass of wine in one hand and a vacuum cleaner in the other. As far as mowing is concerned, all that bouncing would...uh...kinda hurt.
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