Please start humming the tune to "Sanford & Son" for full effect

I apologize in advance for the crappy dland buddy that I may soon become. I can�t even sit down and crank out a real entry today because I�m SWAMPED WITH WORK. That and fucking kids. Yey. Anyway, my entries might start to suffer along with my usual keeping up with everybody else. I�m sorry, but now that we�re are depending on this business to bring home the bacon (mmmm�bacon�mmmmm), I suppose I�m going to have to work at it. But I still love you all. Really. Hugs and kisses and shit. I�m not disappearing, though. No. I�ll still be here, just maybe a little less. Maybe.

Anyway, I resort to a photo entry. It�s about Beavis and his amazing pack rat abilities. This kid loves junk. Most of that shit in his disgusting room is junk he�s collected. I don�t know where he gets it from. But, I can just picture his house when he grows up. He�s going to be one of those fire hazard guys with a house full of junk. Like The Douchebag�s step-dad, he�s one that needs to be checked out for mental illness just from looking at their house (She lives with them, being the jobless wonder that she is).

Anyway, here is Beavis�s number one top piece of junk, his ride:

Oh yeah, look closely:

That is a 1972 Bolens riding lawn mower. Of course, the blade has rotted off, so now it�s just Beavis�s pimped out ride. He got it from my dad, who�d bought it off some guy for like $50 and used it to mow his lawn for a whole season, until the blade rotted off and he decided that Beavis really needed to have the POS here. It doesn�t run, but Beav is working on it. Born to drive, that boy is.

I just love his latest piece of shit:

You can kind of make out the rusted hunk of metal amongst the leaves. It�s under the porch, which was the only place I�d let him keep this thing. Out in the woods here, there used to be a private ski trail back in the 1930�s or something. All that�s left of it is the trail itself, and the poles that held the lift. This metal thing is one of the pulley thingies from one of the poles. He had to have that. Why?

Various crap:

The punching bag is lovely out there in the woods, isn�t it? He got it out of the neighbors� trash last Sunday. And what better place to put it, right? Oh, see the tree fort? Courtesy of Beavis and Butthead. See the old grill? Yup, he got it out of the trash. I can�t wait until the green fills in and I can�t see this shit as well anymore.

And this isn�t trash, but it�s still funny. I know you�ve seen it before. This is how we say hi to our neighbors:

Okay, now, really, I must get back to work. Hub�s ADD kicked back in, because his chicken scratch estimates are missing tons of info this AM! Yey!

Bye!

Listening to: Lazytown

Currently reading: Nothing

Thinking about: Work Bye!