I have been limited this week as to what I can do around the house because I bought a new fire pit. The Fire pit weighs 700 pounds, and is in the bed of my truck. I can’t drive the truck across the new concrete. So I am limited to working on things that I have already bought or that I can fit in the Camry. Gun powder fits in the Camry.
Women like stupid stuff, like chamomile tea, cosmopolitans and clean socks. I love being a man and just being able to enjoy the simple things in life. I recently bought a 1985 GMC truck to help me with all my house work. It only gets one radio station, and it’s country. I don’t like country, but somehow it’s OK in the truck. Today I made my first trip to a scrap yard.
He gets jealous, of me and Tom.
Tom and I are in a golf league, so we hang out ever week. Salami won’t admit it, but he’s jealous. He caught wind that I was over at Tom’s hanging out so he figured he’d roll by in the convertible looking all cool.
And right there is where it broke down.
So I had to push Salami, and the convertible up the drive way.
I hate him.
I was a little unsure how things were going to go with the concrete guys. I felt like he was going to do a good job, but to be honest you just never know. Plus he was kind of “loose” with the quote and with the quote of grading job. But in the end everything turned out exactly the way he said it would. The prices and the job that was done were perfect.