Saturday, April 19, 2014

Craftsman (n:) Combination of Epic Laziness and Deep Confusion over what it Means to be an American Male

Notice how not one of these Suburban idiots even remotely needs a riding mower?

I spend my summers at my boyhood home in Vermont.  Our combined front, side and back yards consist of maybe two acres of hilly land.  I spend one day a week for two months mowing those lawns.  With a push mower.

That's right- when my parents went shopping for a new mower a few years back, I insisted that they skip the self-propelled nonsense.  I'm the self that will be doing the propelling.  It's good exercise, and when it's over I can cool off with a dip in the pond.  Good times.

Meanwhile, these jackasses don identical worn-out plaid shirts, faded jeans, two-day stubble and (oh please!) safety goggles so they can cruise around their postage-stamp lawns for roughly thirty seconds.  Give me a freaking break- these "lawns" could be reduced to piles of dirt with less than a full bottle of Round-Up.  "Up to 7.5 MPH?"  The commercial concedes that to reach any speed at all, the owner must trespass on to the property of his neighbors.  Yeah, I guess if you want to use your "tractor" to race the Lesser Mowers on Clapton Drive, this is the vehicle for you.  But if you an actual adult, what the hell?

( If I ever heard one of these guys complain about the cost of gasoline, I seriously think I would lose it. And I'm not even going to mention the White Suburban Housewife who is rendered mute and breathless by the Awesome Manly Man On The Tractor- jeeeesh, lady.  Every want more out of life than this?)

Craftsman?  I have to congratulate you for your success in selling your riding mowers to people who simply have no use for them.  This is right up there with the residents of Levittown sticking Ford  F150 Trucks or (gag) Humvees in their driveways- just more evidence that in this incredibly unfair world, there are way too many people out there who have tons of money and not Clue One what to do with any of it.  Must be nice.

(Oh, and "kicking grass and taking names?"  Hey, whatever helps you keep a grip on your manhood as you cruise around in your little I'm a Lazy Douchenozzlemobile, buddy.)

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