Bamboo

I was falling asleep on the couch yesterday watching Ghostbusters when Thomas called with the dumbest thing I could possibly imagine hearing in my half-dazed state...
- "Hey, you want to come over and chop down weeds?"
- "What? Fuck. No... with what?"
- "Swords."
- "hmm... fine."

So the weeds were actually Bryan's yard. I think it got mowed once a few months ago... maybe... just imagine if we actually ever got rain here anymore...
Being the old-school manly men that we are, we gathered the proper tools for the job and went to work clear-cutting.
	After following in our ancestors' footsteps and forcing nature to lie down at our feet the all-natural way it was, of course, time to pull out the big guns... I'm pretty sure I've mowed this yard more than any other single person since Bryan bought the house... and that was 2 1/2 years ago... and I've probably only done it a dozen times...
	The onslaught continued... man vs. nature...
	While the outcome was never in doubt, Nature did make one last desperate ploy to save itself. The little mini-bamboos tried to ambush Thomas off the porch in an effort to save the rest of the community. Unfortunately (for them), their aim was terrible, and Thomas emerged unscathed. Unscathed... but angry... "Fuck you, bamboo. I'm gonna build a house out of you!"
And so that's exactly what we did. There's no roof or walls or floor or doors or anything... but it's kind of a house. And should serve as a reminder to the grasses left standing: Don't fuck around with a jungle cat. Just... don't do it.