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post #19
bio: tim

first post
that week

Previous Posts
'I've Got Something Brand New (for that ass)'
Watch How the Zombies Scream (it's the crack)...
'tis Spring and your Mothers Cry
Mama Sang Tenor
Not Even Close to Being on Topic
To gather or collect swiftly and unceremoniously; grab


A thought occurred while mowing the lawn at my Mother's rental house, June 1, 2002, local time approximately 8:00pm (EST).
This thought will be portrayed using the dialogue of fictional characters to get its point across, whatever that is. One is male and one is female. Their marital status is not of importance for this scenario.

- (female) Hi dear.
- (male) Yeah hi.
- (male) What is it, something wrong?
- Yeah, well kind of. Yes. I would say something is definitely wrong.
- I'm listening.
- Yeah. Ok. Ok, here's the thing. Our neighbor is currently mowing the lawn.
- Yeah, so. I mow the lawn all the time.
- Well, no - not like this.
- How do you mean? There aren't that many ways to mow a lawn.
- Ok then - he's not exactly mowing anything. What he is doing… How should I put this…
- You can tell me.
- Ok. See. I just don't think you're ready.
- Hit me.
- Alright then. How do I…
He was fucking the fence with the lawn mower.

- You mean he was mowing close to the fence?
- No. I mean he was fucking the fence with the lawn mower. Back and forth. In and out. Over and over.
- (female) the mower was on, but this is the only thing that was at all related to how a lawn is mowed. He was standing in one spot, with the mower up against the fence, pushing it back and forth into the fence.
- I see. I think I follow.
- (male again) Wait. No. You lost me.
- You know. Back and forth. Fucking.
- Oh. Yes yes. Ok. I see.
Was this Mr. Alterman?

- No. god he's like 82. No. It was the other side. Mr. Friedhof, that nice German man.
- Friedhof? That's surprising. I could see Alterman fucking our fence with a lawnmower way way before Friedhof would ever even think of fucking any of our property containment devices with one of his lawn manicure devices. (male)
- Well I might just have to disagree with you on that point. You know, based on what I saw.
- Fair enough.
- What else was he doing?
- Well he just had that glazed look on his face - like he was lost in a dream.
- How long did he do this?
- Until he ran out of gas, I think. Probably ½ hour.
- That's the craziest thing I've heard all month.
- (female) I'd go along with that. As soon as he ran out of gas, he went back into his house. Left the mower there, right by the fence.
- And what did you do this whole time?
- I got some lemonade, sat in a lawn chair and watched. It's not the kind of thing you should miss.
- I would say not. I'm pissed I wasn't there.
- He just had that blank look and kept looking at me, so I just kept looking back, you know, in-between sips of lemonade.
- Homemade?
- Of course. Please.
- (male) Wild. Absolutely wild.
- Yeah. Kind of.
- You want to smoke it out?
- Rock and Roll.
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