Good afternoon, neighbor! It’s that time of year. The most glorious season there is: fall. The air is crisp, the pumpkins are abundant, and the apples are ripe. But what’s the most splendid thing about this season, you ask? The leaves, in all their vibrant hues – scarlet, burgundy, amber, rust – are falling. The leaves are fleeing their trees. At last.
The time has come.
It is now my annual opportunity to utilize the sole piece of outdoor power equipment that makes me feel the most mighty, the most powerful, and the most goddamn untouchable of everybody I know: my leaf blower. When I have my beloved leaf blower in hand, you better back off. You thought you knew me? Wrong. With this five-pound, low-noise, no-emissions power tool clutched in my hand? You don’t even know who you’re up against. It is I, your neighbor with the leaf blower, and you and everyone else can go fuck yourselves.
The first person on the list of people who can go fuck themselves? Obviously, it’s you, neighbor. Oh, “I” have “so many” leaves on my lawn, you passive-aggressively say? Not when I’m holding my bright red Milwaukee M18 leaf blower, I don’t. Full throttle in under one second. Buzz buzz. Blow blow blow. All those leaves from “my” lawn? They’re now your leaves. Your lawn, your leaves, your problem. Enjoy your Saturday morning outside, douche.
The second person who can go fuck themselves? My wife. This chick thinks she can complain to me about the appearance of our lawn? She gets out her trusty “honey do list” and kindly asks me to please go “take care of” the front yard. Sure sweetheart, I’ll do that for you, no problem. I love you, baby. But do you think I touched a rake? Nope. How about a shovel? Negative. Lawnmower? Hell no. Full throttle in under one second. Buzz buzz. Blow blow blow. Dumbass. Our lawn looks dope, and my wife thinks I am handy-Andy, her green-thumbed husband of the year. Perfection.
I bet you’re also curious to know the rest of the people who can go fuck themselves. These people are umm, well, anyone and everyone who may want to walk, bicycle, or otherwise exist down this street. I forgot to mention earlier that I actually only blew half of my leaves onto my shitty next door neighbor’s lawn; I blew the other half directly onto the road.
My nifty leaf blower is cordless, mind you. And it’s battery? Fully charged. So I have plenty of distance to travel, and plenty of time to use my marvelous leaf blower. I mean, there are literally no limitations to my havoc. Full throttle in under one second. Buzz buzz. Blow blow blow. Right onto the public’s pavement.
Oh, you want to walk on the sidewalk? Well, I hope you like the crunch of dry leaves under your New Balances. Make sure you shuffle through as the leaf fragments go scritch-scratch on your itchy ankles.
Oh, you want to ride your bike by my property? Well, I hope you swerve early enough to avoid my surprise shit-ton-of-leaves obstacle course. Some of those suckers might be slippery. You wouldn’t want to crash your precious Huffy and break your stupid arm on the curb or anything.
So yeah, that list should be comprehensive enough. If you have any follow up questions for me, such as, “Should I also go fuck myself?” Well, assuming that you have ever purchased those lawn-and-leaf bags, the answer is probably yes.
I’ll leave you with this. Perhaps you are wondering what my second-favorite season is? Winter. Snow season. I have a brand-new, bright-orange, Ariens Deluxe 28 snow blower, and I can’t wait to use it.
