God bless the classified section of The Local Rag. I held my breath each of the six times Phil Don't-Know-His-Last-Name started the engine of our newly repaired 24-year-old riding mower. Thankfully satisfied it would start a seventh time, Phil gave us almost enough cash to pay for the repairs. He happily loaded up Master 318 to take it to its new home with cows. We all feel like we got the better deal; those are always the best kind. Happy Trails!! And good riddance.Off to the fair!
2 comments:
Are the llamas coming now?
That would make a lot of sense, wouldn't it? Rob just doesn't follow my logic, frustratingly. When you have a moment, give your big brother a call and see if you can talk some sense into him.
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