Bad karma equals fallen trees, broken roof tiles and felled power lines. Case in point:
Troy wake up.
No.
Troy wake up, a tree fell on our garage.
I said I'd get up in ten minutes, just give me ten more minutes.
Troy, I'm not kidding. A tree really fell on our garage.
Of all of the lies Marty has used to get me out of bed in the morning, I can only pretend today's was a fabrication. Because five minutes after this discourse I spent my post holiday Monday morning dealing with
this.
In thinking about it over the day, I have concluded that this serves as a friendly warning from the environment for my front yard landscaping project where I've devastated this tree's long undisturbed brethren. How many times do I have to argue that we are not alone here guys.
And, man do we under-appreciate garage door openers or what? I spent five minutes scratching my head trying to figure out what you do when the clicker-thing doesn't set the massive door to motion? Can you believe that you actually have to touch the door to make it go up and open. Don't even get me started on the host of organisms and contaminants that are now permanently married to my epidermis from this transaction. Ughhh!
