I was tired of talking to part time workers on the phone. They just didn't give a shit. They weren't helpful. I grew very tired of dealing with the overall lack of helpfulness. Also, nobody every tells them anything, so they don't know anything about anything. Or, to bring it to the people, they don't know shit about shit. I think that's a big part of my problem with them.

If you remember, I was speaking of purchasing a Reel Mower from Menards. They had one that looked nice enough in their ad just a few weeks back. It was only $30 in the ad. 15 inches of self sharpening cutting power. And none of the stores had it. None.

I mean, how can you put a product like that in your weekly newspaper ad and not have nearly enough stock to cover the sales? I called at least 7 different stores and labored through trying to tell the PT employee what it was I was looking for and did they have any in? and did they know when any new ones would be in? and did they know if any of the other stores might have it? -- you know. Easy fun and fast questions complete with lots and lots of time spent on hold while they try to find someone who knows shit about shit.

Finally, after talking with approximately 7 of these fine, fine people on the phone and wasting about 1.5 hours of my Saturday, I decided to look elsewhere for the Mower of the Future™.

Sears, good friends, had a much much much better reel mower and hey! It's on sale for only for $100. Ding! A winnah!

So now I'm cutting my grass the old fashioned way.

With a laser.

Okay. Not really. With a human powered enviro-friendly reel mower. Eat that you crazy Oil People! The Mower of the Future™ doesn't run on oil! It runs on Me Power! Me!

---

Whew. I'm beat, friends. I'm tired and I think I may know why.

Last night at 1:30am, Bailey started barking. Not the Hey there's a squirrel that I'd like to eat bark, but more of a Something ain't right, y'all bark.

Plus I thought I heard a strange noise. Lindsay did, too. Plus it was all hot and humid in the house still.

To steal a phrase from the Fresh Prince's Nightmare on My Street, I thought to myself, Yo! This heat is the worst!

So I went downstairs and Bailey was just wagging her tail at me. Ha, ha. I got you to come downstairs. Now you should pet me and hang out with me and watch TV. We don't get as much Daddy Cuddle Time as we used to, you know? Pull up a chair, Daddy. Hang out here for awhile, please.

Bitch please! I'm trying to sleep! (See, it's okay, because, technically, she is a bitch. You know, female dog and all -- aaaand we've regressed to 3rd grade humor now. Yay!)

I did a quick main level check. Everything was in order. No Borg. No intruders. No robots.

Then I checked the basement, too. "I checked the basement" in the sense that I opened the basement door and had the dogs scout the area for Borg, intruders and robots first, then went down and made sure all was okay. No Borg. No intruders. No robots. I'm a tough one!

To be safe (and more comfortable), I decided we should close all the windows and crank on the central air, which we did. I'm thinking we should have done that much earlier in the day on Sunday. I do I believe I would have been in a perkier mood with a cooler house.

Right then. I think I've lost my mind.

Love you!
Eric