God, how I hate cutting the lawn. Its every two weeks now, and my lawn
wouldn't look so bad if Lawnman, across the street wasn't out there
every third day, down on his hands and knees trimming each and every
stinking blade of grass with a pair of teeny tiny scissors. I swear he'd
be out there each and every night making sweet love to his lawn if he
didn't already have 3 womyn in his house, ala wife and 2 daughters to
have sex with.

Three hours every other week is too much to ask of poor Mr. Hole, and
quite frankly, I'm afraid to go into the back part of the yard these
days where the shed sits because that's where the family of skunks and
groundhog lives. The big fat groundhog doesn't really bother me, but
those skunks are just icky yucky nasty!

I first saw the three skunks one late night three Tuesdays ago, there
was a big momma skunk, and 2 baby skunks scurrying back under the shed
when I had come outside of the house with a dixie cup I had placed a
spider in after I found it in the kitchen dangling on a potholder. At
first I thought it was a neighbor's cat because they were sitting so
close together, and I had never actually seen a skunk alive and or
moving except on tv. But as soon ads I saw the white stripe I dropped
the cup and dashed into the house where I quickly bolted the door.

Last time I was out there there was a network of tunnels all around the
area surrounding the shed. How am I supposed to get in the shed? That's
where I keep the lawn mower. I just bought that lawn mower after the
last one died, if I relinquish control of the shed to the skunks I'll
have to purchase a new one bringing my total mower count for the year to
three! NOT FAIR.

This is why I want to live on a rocky cliff overlooking the sea.


Today's magic number is the #3.










...
Mr. Hole