Starting a garden...

...is really easy; and you save money on vegetables. Right? That's what I thought until I tried it. Below is a record of how yet another of my bright ideas came to nothing:

It was a beautiful day as I sat in the shade watching the weeds grow. I was supposed to be getting my garden started, but first I had to make a plan. So there I was, sipping lemonade and sitting in my hammock on the back porch. I knew what I had to do first: rent a rototiller and get rid of those weeds. So I jumped in the car and flew to the nearest tractor store. As I walked around the store I questioned my motives for starting a garden. Maybe this wasn't so inexpensive after all. But then agai,n I guess I do spend more than $300 on vegetables every year. So I went ahead and rented the $300 rototiller. This wasn't any ordinary tiller either: it was self-driven. All I had to do was set what speed I wanted and off it would go. At least, that's what the guy in the store said.

When I got home I couldn't wait to try out this fancy tiller. I pulled it out of the back of my car and pushed it around to the backyard. Then I pushed the little bubbly thingy, pulled the little stick back, and yanked the big long string. I could tell this thing had power as it sat there purring away. Then I took hold of the shift stick and threw it into full speed ahead! The machine drove right across the back yard, plowing up the earth as it went, then through the back fence and across the neighbor's lawn, eating up chairs, barbecues, and anything else that got in its way. I realized I would have to start following it if I wanted to see the rest of the show, so I took off running. After going through the back wall of the neighbor's garage and out through their closed garage door, the tiller finally came to a rest after being hit by a special edition 2010 Cadillac Escalade.

Now I am sitting in my hammock on the back porch watching the weeds grow and writing about my adventures. After paying for the replacement of the rototiller, I have decided gardening is not as cheap as I thought. From now on I will be proud every time I buy a box of tomatoes, knowing I am saving thousands of dollars.

Valentine's, Shmalentine's

"Valentine's already? I'm still sick from the super bowl!"

That is what all males are thinking right now. Some who have girlfriends might be thinking: "What? I just worked overtime all month to pay for that Christmas date I had to take girlfriend on so she wouldn't dump me!"

Unfortunately, females don't think this way. For some reason, they don't have fun cleaning up after superbowl parties and they look forward to Valentine's. They think: "Yes! A time to relax, maybe boyfriend will take me to a really fancy dinner!"


My sister is one of those female types. One problem though: she does not have a boyfriend, and I don't have a girlfriend. For the past week she has been walking around the house looking very depressed. Yesterday morning, I saw her walking down the hallway, more depressed than usual. I decided to cheer her up, so I said: "Good morning! Why don't you stop being depressed?" I immediately realized my mistake. I could imagine what was coming next.

"YOU GOOD FOR NOTHING LITTLE NOSY UNCARING WRETCH!"

Then she would proceed to thrash me into a million pieces. The only way to handle women is to compliment them. But don't get carried away. For example, if I had said "My, you look much better than usual today," she would have snapped out of depression on the spot; and started thrashing me all the same.


But my sister did nothing I expected. Instead she got all excited and yelled "thank-you, thank-you, thank-you! I'm so happy now, I could scream!" Then she screamed and busted my eardrums. Now this was a very strange reaction, so I called up a female counselor and asked what it meant. Guess what? Now I have to take my sister to the fanciest restaurant in San Francisco to keep her from becoming permanently depressed! My counselor told me that when I talked to my sister yesterday, she was so depressed she thought I asked if I could take her to dinner since she had no one else to take her. Now I walk around the house all day long, looking extremely depressed. My sister never even notices. Maybe I will let you know how the dinner goes. Then again, maybe you don't want to know.

Shakespeare: A Shakescam

Shakespeare was a scam! Come to think of it, he still is! He is simply the face for the cheating industry of arts to hide behind! He never wrote a single play. Or tragedy. Or poem. Or comedy. Or romance. Or, well, you get the point. He was an illiterate bum, living off the hard work of others. He just sat around all day watching super bowl pre-plays and eating popcorn!

I am sure this is all old news to some of you, but nobody knows who really wrote all those long boring money grabbing works of "art," and I am nobody. Soon I won't be nobody though, 'cause I'm going to proclaim this to the whole world! Maybe I'll even make a movie! I will get so well known, I will become president and outlaw works by "Shakespeare." Maybe I'll even find his descendants and throw them all in jail!

So who really wrote all that Shakespeare stuff? His wife and kids! Not only was he a bum, he was a heartless slave driver, and his slaves were his family. He forced them to write, and when they wrote something that he did not like, he whipped them every hour for the next twenty-four hours! When they wrote something he did like, he published it under his name and got more popcorn money!

Eventually, his family got fed up. But they didn't do anything, except write some more. Finally Shakespeare's wife died and his kids all ran away. From that day until he died he had no food at all. Poor guy. I know what it is like to not have food and try to watch football. It isn't very fun. You sit there knowing the fridge is full of food, but you never go get some because then all your friends make you get something for them. So you all wait, and wait and soon everyone is passed out from hunger.

So I am calling for a world-wide boycott of Shakespeare! He is the reason there is never enough food for the football games. He must be taken care of, and then all us football addicts can once again live in peace!