Lawnmover: 1, Me: 0

Man, fuck lawn equipment. All of it. Stupid lawnmowers that don’t wanna run. Weed eaters that won’t start. I gave those ungrateful sons of bitches nearly six months off while I hired my nephew to do my yardwork. And how do they repay me? 

You guessed it. They won’t fucking start. So I have about $400 worth of useless metal sitting in my garage, taking up space. 

And, yes, I did what I could to get them up and running. More on that in a bit. But first, a few ranting paragraphs.

The finest example of jerry-rigging

When I was a teenager we had this shitty old mower that just wouldn’t die. Or, at least, my step-dad wouldn’t let it die. When the pull cord broke off, he rigged it so we could start it with wire. When the safety lever broke, he told us to just run it into the tall grass so it would stop. And when the gas tank started leaking, he tried plugging it with some kind of silicone. That didn’t work very well, so there was always a pool of gasoline around the bottom of the engine when we used it. It’s a wonder that damn thing didn’t blow my legs off.

Toro, you can eat a dick

I once spent a good chunk of change on a Toro mower that was basically a turd with a motor attached to the top of it. I had gone to Home Depot with about $300 to spend on a mower, and I wanted one that was decent. You get what you pay for, or so I’ve been told. So I plunked my money on the counter without a moment’s hesitation.

Big mistake.  

The first model had a poor weld on the safety handle, so I immediately had to take it back to Home Depot. And I was a dummy and simply exchanged it for the same model.

So what sucked about that Toro mower?

  1. The discharge flap came off way too easily. I’d be mowing through a relatively short span of grass, the discharge would catch on it and come off. Then this other flap would fall down over the opening (the one that’s there to keep idiots from getting their fingers chopped off in case they reached their fingers in while the blade was spinning). The mulch had nowhere to go, so naturally, the lawnmover would shut down.
  2. The self-propulsion belt broke almost immediately. I almost never used it because if I went over even the shortest of grass, the mower would die. But the damn belt still broke with almost no use. Piece o’ shit.
  3. The mower was supposedly fuel-injected, so you wouldn’t have to prime it. And it even said “Guaranteed to start” on the side. What. A. Fucking. Lie. This, this is why I have trust issues.

Wow. Even writing about this, years after I dumped that hunk of shit off at Goodwill, has my blood pressure raised.

Why do they call it Stihl? Because they Stihl your money

I ponied up $250 on this Stihl weed eater a year or two ago. It was a bitch to wind up with string, but it did a decent job cutting through the weeds around my yard’s perimeter. But again, despite my best efforts, and a great deal of cursing, it wouldn’t start after awhile. 

I’m starting to see why other people have trouble with computers in the same way I have trouble with yard equipment. It’s just not my thing, apparently.

Yard Machines, fuck you too

So, today was pretty much wasted on trying to get my cheap, $125 mower running. Couldn’t get the fucker going for more than 30 seconds. Like it was still in winter hibernation or something.

I calmed myself down and consulted the oracle, Google. Went down the checklist:

  • Dumped out the old gas and got new gas
  • Checked the oil level
  • Checked the spark plug
  • Bought a new air filter
  • Bought some quick-start fluid you spray in the carburetor 

That damn sonofabitch almost, almost ran for a full minute before it quit on me. Then I gave up, lest I toss that piece of garbage out into the street.

Eating your feelings
I eat when I’m upset. If you saw me in person, you might think I’m upset often because I’m a robust fellow. I’m working on that through proper diet and exercise. And I’m seeing progress. But after this shitty, nearly wasted day, I pigged out on nearly anything I could find in the fridge. And I kinda hate myself right now. Why can’t I be one of those people who work out like crazy when I get upset? Maybe I can become one of those people. I have a choice on how I cope with difficulties in life, right? I’m blogging about it, and that feels like a healthier alternative than chowing down on everything in arm’s reach. And I don’t hate myself afterward.

Is there a silver lining?

I’ll admit it freely: I allowed myself to get much more angry and frustrated than I should have. I had some frustrations about other parts of my life already pent up from earlier in the weekend, so I guess it all ganged up on me. 

I feel like I have been able to salvage today, more or less. I got most of the boys’ laundry done. And my brother came by to fix the garage door opener. So there are those two things.

And I’m fixing a gourmet pizza (the finest brick oven pizza DiGiorno has to offer) for the prettiest gal I know. My wife, and hero, is coming home to me and that makes all of the bullshit from today seem not so bad.

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