It wasn't even storming the other day when I got a text and photo of this monster branch that broke off from our busted ass tree in the back yard. I knew it was going to be a lot of work. I really don't have a lot of extra money sitting around to pay a tree trimmer to come and clear it up for me. So it was me versus the tree.
The worst part was cutting up the leafy branches so that I could get to the big stuff. I ended up with 10 yard waste bags. And my back hurt.
I borrowed a chainsaw from my brother in law. This thing was awesome. I sliced this stuff up like it was warm butter. But like, a LOT of warm butter. It took a while. And my back hurt.
So after all the crying was done, I went inside, took a shower, and sat down for a minute. I don't drink often, and certainly don't drink much beer. In the fridge was this pint bottle from the Dirty South gravel race I did in March. So I drank it. It was strong. My back didn't hurt anymore.
And since I had sat down in front of Eli's gaming computer, he prompted me to play GTA with him. I drove some cool cars badly, ran over some pedestrians, and we had a good laugh.
Then this happened.
Tim = 1. Tree = 0.
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