Now They're Liars, Too

I arrived home from a delicious lunch at Reading Terminal Market to find a Latino chap mowing The Neighbor's lawn, therefore usurping Wolfgang's promised (and potentially hilarious) responsibility.

Perhaps it's for the better, though. The lawn looked pretty good when compared to the lush savannah vegetation we currently have adorning the entryway to 1Prime. It must have something to do with us using a non-gasoline mower older than "Leave It To Beaver."* I liken it to bringing a tampon to a knife fight.

(*that's not a porno for those of you under 25)

After a recent bout with the front weeds, I actually used scissors from my desk to snip down the high bits. There's not even a joke to be made here.