My Hands Look Good Even If My Yard Doesn't posted on April 16, 2007 06:49 PM by rethwyll.
I am, by my reckoning, the worst gardener in the known universe. Those Nyokki that were going to help reform my degenerate, plant-killing ways? Dead. Last summer's tomatoes? Rotted on the vine before they even got big enough to be eaten by worms. My artificial ficus tree? It's not looking promising.
Being the Flowerbed Angel of Death DOES come in handy when it comes to ripping out vegetation; there's nothing more satisfying than wrestling a stubborn weed out of the ground and following its zigzagging weed-trail all over the yard until it disappears into that great big crack in the foundation of the house. (Oops.) And there's nothing I like better while sending God's green creatures to that big mulch pile in the sky than to wear a pair of these West County workgloves. They're like Porsches for your hands: sporty, sexy, nigh indestructible and completely wasted on anyone over the age of 45.
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