Ir's another breakup. He's gone.
Herb hung around a little longer than most of the men in my life lately, but he's gone. Just like that *snap*.
For me, it was quick and painless. Probably not so much for Herb.
But he got what he deserved. He knew better. He disregarded the house rules, so he had to go.
Off with his head! Zap!
It took a couple of passes of the mower to really do him in, but he's gone, never again to call attention to my unkempt lawn. Taunting me, shouting to the neighbors "Hey look at this slob!" Silenced forever is he.
I'm glad. It was time for him to leave. He had nothing going for him, and now I can live peaceably in the neighborhood without fearing visits from the authorities or whispered remarks behind my back. The shame is over.
Buh-bye, Herb. Don't come back.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Ooof, he said, shifting uncomfortably in his chair after shoveling 80 pounds of potting mix and forking a bunch of mulch (chocolate-stained hardwood), oof, around the 36 salvas and 72 lil marigolds he set out yesterday, oof. Tomorrow, however, stands to be a good day. I have so much detritus sitting in various and sundry cans, carts and other containers in my garage I plan to go to the transfer station with it in the mornign before work. Such manly endeavors generally put me in a good mood. "LOL," he added, masculinely.
Post a Comment