Me vs. My lawn, it will not beat me!!!

Growing up here in the United States everyone has heard of "The American Dream". You know what I am talking about good job, house, nice car, and 2.784529 children. While those things are nice the leave it to beaver life isn't always what it's cracked up to be. Here is a story of how at times owning your own home can suck. This particular tale starts on my couch. My only ambition of this doomed day, stay on the couch. I laid quite comfortably on my couch(I love this couch so much because it folds out into a bed meaning; I don't have to get up off of it for days at a time) watching reruns of Keeping Up With the Kardashian's, don't judge me, when my crazy wife flung the curtains open. I believe she said something to the effect of "get off the couch you lazy jerk" this was over shadowed by me screaming "AAAHHH THE SUN IS EVIL, WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!!" It took me a few moments of holding a pillow over my face to come to grips with the sun not going away. As I peered out into the mid-morning I came to the annoying realization, our yard had become that yard on the block. Awesome, so I guess the lawn isn't going to cut itself like I had been hoping. My hesitation to mow the lawn doesn't lie in a loathing of the actual act of cutting the lawn, I do enjoy it, but in the lawn mower itself. I hate it, I can not even describe my hatred for this particular piece of equipment. It is the bane of my lawn maintenance existence. Some how between each usage something new breaks on this POS. I get it working, mow the lawn, turn it off, and by the next time I need to use it something new is wrong. I have kicked and hit it with so many things by the laws of physics this devil machine should not work. But since this Snapper lawnmower was crafted by Satan himself sometime in the 60's it is built like a tank. I ponder over these facts of my life as I get dressed and finish my coffee. I expect the worse. I calmly cracked the door to the garage open, sun glances off the top of the faded red engine, I mumbled "One off us will win you piece of crap". I checked the gas tank, full enough. Like an old west showdown the moment of truth, I give the pull start a nice hard pull. My nemesis sputters a little, this is a good sign it means Im winning. I pumped the primmer three times, one more solid pull and oh yes sweet victory is mine Lucifer roared to life. I kinda strutted out to the lawn, maybe today won't be as terrible as I assumed. My front lawn is roughly fifteen feet by thirty five feet with a sidewalk running through the lower portion. I'd cut approximately ten square feet when the old snapper decided it was going to be a bitch. It just died. I thought out out loud, "maybe the bag is full". Oh what a silly fool I am. I emptied the bag started right up again, RAD, I took three steps and the beast died. We played this game three or four more times. I got a screw driver to adjust the carburetor, I know if I loose my temper the machine has won. We did the start up and die dance about twenty more times before all hell broke loose. I went retard strong picking up the mower and throwing it to another part of the lawn. Like a crazy person off my meds I kicked and cursed it (thankfully I had on my steel toed boots) until I realized people were watching. With the heat and furry of ten angry sun gods I stormed up to the house grabbed the keys and shouted "IM GOING TO HOME DEPOT, YOU COMING!!!". My wife having seen similar rage many times before calmly shrugged and said, "sure". With the lawnmower upside down in a half cut white trash lawn we set off for Home Depot. I strongly dislike Home Depot. My Dad is super Mr. Fix-it himself guy so as a kid we would spend HOURS in Home Base(different store same evil) while he figured out whatever part was the cheapest to fix whatever was wrong. There is only two good things about spending hours at hardware stores; the obligatory hot dog stand in front and playing dice in the parking lot with the day laborers. I came screeching into the parking lot like a bat outta hell. Im expecting the worse. The trip inside was far less scaring than previous visits. $220 later I had myself a brand new lawnmower. I grabbed a polish dog on my way out and put on a little Merle Haggard working man blues for the drive back home. I my delicious meaty treat seemed to help with the rage but I kept being plagued by the vision of an IKEA-ish experience of assembling my new toy. You know, it's so simple that it is the most complicated process in the world. When I got home I realized all I need to do was tighter four quick release bolts, add oil and gas. I peed a little I was so excited. I got it all put together. Now the moment of truth...I am plesed to say she fired on the fisrt try. It only took me twenty minutes to finish mowing the lawn and get back to my glorious couch. Im proud to say I own of my first brand new lawn mower. Im in the process of sending the old one back to whatever hell it came from.

Anthony
Ps. I know I can't spell or punctuate correctly