My girlfriend bought an electric weed whacker. the kind that you drag an extension cord around behind you while this completely horse-hockey electric motor tries to spin dental floss and cut grass.
lameness. I mean this thing doesn't have enough power to pull a wet noodle out of a sick chicken's @$$.
So I tell her that will never do. we need something with a 5 horse gas burner on the back. Something that when I get pissed off, I can go cut a tree down with.
She goes instant defensive. blah blah blah.
Long story short, I told her that much like my car, my weed wacker also needs to be a penis extension 'cause mines not that big, right.
(Plus I like rev-ving them and grunting like Tim Allen.)
No go.
I'm stuck with this stupid electric weedeater. It can't even reach the fence in the back yard. she wants to put wood chips around the edge of the fence so she doesn't have to go back there.
Seriously... wtf.
I think I'll just go and get a gas powered one anyway, and it will just show up around my birthday.
Then, one day while she's at work, her's will mysteriously get painted pink.
;)