MY WORSE NIGHTMARE

The dreaded Weedeater has got to be a womens worse nightmare. It certainly is mine!
I have a gas operated weedeater because my yard is to big for an electric one. There wouldn't be a cord long enough.

The Damn thing has a mind of it's own. If it doesn't want to start it's not going to no matter what I do. Every time I get it out we fight for an hour before, (if ever) it starts.

I do everything right. Steps one though seven. I set it on a flat surface. I press the primer bulb the correct number of times. Move the choke lever to the right position. Squeeze the throttle trigger fully. Pull starter rope etc. etc. and nothing. Again --nothing, Again nothing. Again, ahh, then it teases me with a little noise and I think I have it made. So this go's on and on and it's getting dark now and I'm so pissed I can't see straight but there is no way I am going to let a machine be more stubburn then me. Finally it starts, after an hour of yanking that rope and talking to it with the best words I know ( all bad) it finally starts -- then it dies. So we play start and die, for at least another 20 minutes.

Well it must have gotten tired of the fight and decided to go to work. The last big yank of the rope and the motor yelled loudly so I snatched it up and started using it. What happens now. No line, so I have to turn it off to put more line in it, which I did. I really dreaded trying to start it again but to my amazement it jumped right off. I thought this is great, but by now it's pretty dark. That's O.K. I can still get a little done. I run over to the side of my place face the weed eater down into some weeds and then, a big noise and the weedeater is yanking on me as tho it is hung up in the weeds. I rank back.

I should have known it had a plan. the spool came off. The only thing that kept it from flying thru the air was the line wrapped itself around the tube. Oh thank God it could have broken my leg. Well by now it's so dark I can't see anyway so I give up. You win! You sorry lazy good for nothing weedeater, you freaken win!
As I passed the trash can, I had the greatest urge to thow it away or at least leave it on the wet dewy ground all night to punish it but I didn't. I called it dirty names all the way back on the walk to put it up.

My weedeater now has a new name . It is now no longer a weedeater, it's an SOB and shall remain so named, until it starts acting right . I'm mad, I'm tired and I'm going to bed.

Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray no nightmares will I see ---- of the SOB.