Witness the suburban gladiator in action – armed with a mower that sounds like a jet engine with asthma, I charge into battle against an army of overgrown grass and weeds that think they own the place. With the precision of a blindfolded samurai and the stamina of someone who forgot they had allergies, I sculpt nature's chaos into something vaguely resembling a lawn. Sweat? Check. Mosquito bites? Absolutely. Uneven tan lines? You bet. But when the sun sets and the yard looks 10% better (from a distance, in dim lighting), I stand proudly atop my mulch pile, a legend in high socks and stained sneakers."
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