Tim Allen Dreams


Apparently, one man’s yardwork is another man’s dream. Since someone backed through my back fence a couple of days ago I had to make a trip to Lowe’s this morning in order to purchase new fence posts and a couple 60 pound bags of cement. It was a cloudless day and I wasn’t looking forward to using my post hole digger when it was promising to break 90. It was then I noticed a small group of pale individuals possibly speaking Russian surrounding some of the larger riding mowers near the front door. They were chatting away furiously as they snapped photos with their cell phones. I imagine  their conversation went something like this: “Check out the cutting devices used by these imperialist yankee dogs. The horsepower appears to be sufficient to haul even their fat, drooping beer bellies. But now that I’m getting a closer look, I can’t seem to resist wanting one.”


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