Saturday, March 3, 2012

Death Metal Weed Killing

We used to have professionals do the weed killing and fertilizing on our yard.  Now, I take care of it.  Weeds are such assholes.  They are like people you can’t stand, people who you run into all the time.  Only there aren’t just a few, there are thousands.  They lurk everywhere.  Even in your cracks (har har).  My front yard used to be pristine and nearly weed free.  In the last week, however, it has turned into weedageddon.  I’ve got weeds trying to grow on top of other weeds.  So I did the only thing I could do, I bought some Spermacide…no, no, I mean Spectracide and downloaded some Metallica music.  I’m not particularly a Metallica fan, but it seemed appropriate for weed killing.  Mostly because you can change the words to Enter Sandman to something something about exit weeds enter grass, sleep with one eye open and that the weeds are off to never never land.  Anyway, I was spraying the Spectracide and death-metal-head-thrashing in the front yard (I don’t recommend it, BTW. I fell over twice and I’m fairly certain I have a terminal case of whiplash) when a new neighbor walked up to me.  She was Italian (which made me think, “lasagna sounds good for dinner”).   She said she was new to the neighborhood and asked about what I was putting on my yard…only when she asked she sounded like Carmelo Soprano (which led me to think, “the mafia is after me”).  I explained my Spectracide/Metallica combo.  She left fairly quickly after that.  I like being a helpful neighbor.  I did think it was sorta weird that she asked because she could clearly see what I was spraying.  Additionally, she could hear because I had the doors of my 1991 Honda Accord open and was playing Metallica softly through my six 15 inch woofers and two amplifiers that occupy the entire backseat.  At any rate,  I think the weeds are history.  *throws fingers up in the sign of the horns*

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