dreaming of murder

Bastardgrass.
Came home for lunch today to get away from the cubicle. The bread had little blooms of bright yellow mold all over it, so I made a bunch of little turkey and cheese sandwiches out of Club crackers instead. They were just as good, and they filled me up. My fingers smell like rosemary turkey and pepperjack cheese. Watched a little Andy Griffith (the one where Andy makes Opie give up football to spend all his time studying, and then sees the error of his ways and relents), and then decided to come back here and write a bit before I have to head back. I’m in no rush, work didn’t rest while I did last week and I’m doing double-duty to catch up. I think I’m back in the swing of things, all caught up on mail and working hard to offload a lot of things I’ll no longer be responsible for now that I’m a facnypants “manager.” My goal is to be able to give my focus to the “new” stuff I’m supposed to be doing, and portion out the “old” to others. It’s working… I’m slowly disengaging… but it will take time and effort to fully untangle my previous commitments and set them adrift on their own. I’m still happy though, not burned out yet, and not ready to give up yet – so, bring it.

After some serious frustration over trying to rid my yard of what I thought was a crabgrass infestation, I sat down at the PC and did some serious research. Turns out what I have is actually bermudagrass and not crabgrass at all (actually, I think it was Pat who 1st suggested I may not be dealing with crab, but some other weedgrass). Anyway, after actually going out into the yard and pulling a “runner” to hold up to the monitor in comparison, I was 100% sure I was dealing with bermuda. This beast of a weed has gotten out of control, it’s creeping runners are splayed out onto the sidewalks and driveways in the worst spots, like glaring neon signs shouting “poor lawn maintenance” to the neighborhood. After several unsuccessful applications of specialty weedgrass killers (albeit, most mistakenly targeted at crabgrass), I’ve had no luck stemming the march of this devil across my lawn. What’s worse, I think it’s sucking up all my real turf’s nutrients and making it struggle for survival. I… hate… this… grass.

Yeah, I know, why be this anal about a lawn? I can’t answer that. I don’t know why it bothers me so, grates on my nerves, makes me grumble every time I drive home and see it creeping into my driveway. But boy does it, and for that reason – it must die. So, delving deeper into the bottomless resource that is the internet – I ended up finding what seems to be a miracle product. A specialized weed-killer that specifically targets the bermuda nightmare grass, and kills it dead while leaving desired turf unharmed. Oh, I was doubtful, but I saw pictures folks – real, live pictures of the before and after results. This guy successfully annihilated an infestation that appeared to be much larger than mine. Of course, this godsend toxic chemical isn’t available in stores. But, it’s made right near here in lovely Fresno, and it’s available… wait for it… right through the internet. So, I whipped out the credit card and authorized the ~$60 pint to be shipped right to my front door.

You don’t even realize how utterly excited I am about this. I simply can’t wait to kill, murder, destroy, and/or obliterate this crap. I have fantasies about standing over huge patches of bermudagrass, browning in its throes of death, as I toss back my head in maniacal laughter. I’ll watch you die, bermudagrass, then I’ll spit on your grave. If I can get the bermudagrass killed and green up the real lawn, get a new tree planed where the old one has been long-dead, and do something with my sideyard planter that’s just a weedy pile of mulch – I’ll have a front yard I can be proud of again.

I still haven’t been over to anyone’s place where there’s a scanner so I can scan in Lil’ Chino’s ultrasound pictures… sucks that my scanner is busted.

‘Night.


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