Mega Millions Here I Come

The news keeps talking about this gigantic Mega Millions Lottery jackpot up for grab on Friday.  Last check we were at $476 million dollars.  Oh what I could do with that kind of money.  So I thought maybe if I shared my list with the world God would see my great ideas and bless me with some luck.

1) Burn my house to the ground.
     Yes you heard me, this sucker would be toast.  My house is about a million years old and poorly built.  It is a kit house from some company like Sears from back in the day.  I hate it but am stuck in it thanks to the wonderful housing market crash.  Thought it would be great for a starter house, which is was but now we have outgrown it and are stuck in hell.

2) Get the Hell Out of Massachusetts
     Yup, don't know where I would go but it certainly wouldn't be here.  Maybe buy a house in Ireland since my husband is from there and another in Vermont near my parents.  Who knows, all I know is that it will be far away from Taxachusetts and I will no longer be a Masshole.

3) Make a huge donation to charity.
     I think the Make a Wish Foundation would be first, love what they do for kids.  Then I would donate to battered women across the world and probably some cancer charity.  But I can tell you one thing, AT LEAST HALF of my money would be heading to charity.

4) Buy a new Kia
    Yes, I know, with $476 million dollars I could do a lot better than a Kia but what I can say, I love my car.  It was dirt cheap and has been great.

5) Pay off the mortgages of all of my friends and family (at least the ones I like)
    Obviously my parents would come first (oh wait, they don't have a mortgage, ugh) ok then my brother (oh wait he doesn't own a house, oh I will buy him one), of course Alan's parents and brothers and sisters (except No Balls and the other jack ass they get nothing), my bff of course and Jenn and Katie, can't leave them out.  Oh this could be expensive, oh well, I will have money to burn, right?

6) Hire a personal chef
    Yup, sick of cooking, enough said there.

7) Travel to every state in the USA
     Except New Jersey that is, who the hell would want to go there?

8) Quit both my jobs
     Yes, that probably should be first but whatever, see ya suckers.

9)Spend a lot of time volunteering
    I feel that if you are blessed you should give back.  So I will, a lot.

10) Sleep
      For at least a week straight.  I am going to hires somebody to take care of my husband and kids for a week and just sleep.  I have to catch up on ten years of minimal sleep.  Maybe I should make that two weeks, or a month.

So there you have it.  No huge goals, no greed, just a nice comfortable life.  I think I deserve that, right?  I know my chances are nil and none (especially because I haven't bought a ticket yet) but a girl has to be prepared.

Sharing my Love!

Ok, I don't have a lot of time to write today as I am heading off to see the Hunger Games tonight with the girls.  I can't wait, I am giddy with excitement.  However, since I haven't posted in a few days I figured you would all think I was dead so I am popping on to say hello and do something I have never done on my blog before.

Today I am asking all my fellow bloggy friends to go check out a new blog that was started by somebody near and dear to my heart.  It is freaking hysterical and I know some of the stories she is planning to write about and I know you are all in for a big treat, and some pee yourself from laughing moments.  So check her out, follow her and turn her into the attention whore that you have all turned me into.

Now all of you go click on the link, read the posts (especially the second one) and click that follow button, oh and comment, no attention whore is complete without the comments.
Dating after Disney

It's Not My Fault you're an Idiot.

People never fail to amaze me, especially when I am at my waitressing job.  I had yet another group of people that lacked any kind of sense at all and should never be allowed to go out in public. 

It was this past Friday night and I was told I would be waiting on a large table.  Good, no problem, might make some money.  They all arrived on time and were seated by our lovely hostesses and I was rejoicing in the fact that there were no small children with them.  It is always my luck that when I get large parties it is all kids which means kid meals and constant drink refills.  Not to mention the parents rarely control them and it is just a suck fest in general.  However, by the end of the night I would have preferred the kids.

Turns out these people were here to celebrate one of the guest's 21st birthday.  That was another good sign.  Booze equals tips, generally.  I start taking drink orders and the girl whose birthday it was ordered her drink and I asked for ID, just like I had every other person that ordered.  She hands me her license and I knew I was in trouble.  Turns out that her birthday was the previous day and that her license had expired at midnight on her birthday.  It is against the law for me to accept the ID.  I informed her that it was expired and asked if she had anything else.  She told me she went and got her license renewed and handed me the piece of paper the RMV gives you until your license arrives.  Problem is I can't take that either.  It states in big black writing across it THIS IS NOT A VALID FORM OF ID.

Now I have 24 pissed off people.  I asked if she had a passport but it turns out she left it at home.  Her parents informed that they were there when she was born and could vouch for her.  Ah....ya.....the State of Massachusetts doesn't consider that a valid form of ID either.  I told them they could talk to the manager and they were happy with that as they figured they would get him to approve.

I ran over and got my manager and filled him it.  He went right over and the girl's drunk boyfriend got in his face.  Then the parents gave it to him.  He explained the policy of the restaurant and the laws in the State.  They countered him with "they accepted it at Chili's".  Well good for Chili's, let them get screwed.  They informed the manager that they were going to go to the bar next door and he said they could try but it wouldn't be accepted there.  They called the bar and were told again that they would not be let in.  So they were stuck.

They stayed and ate dinner. They were pissed at me the whole time and it was a very crappy night because of it.  I can't understand why people don't get that the law is the law.  If I had served her and been caught I would have been fined $2000.  Yes, me, not the restaurant.  Granted the restaurant would be fined as well, maybe even lose their liquor license but they wouldn't have to pay MY fine.  I don't understand why people would be willing to put a hard working waitress in that position over a drink.

So there it was, another stellar night in my life.  One of these day I will win the lottery and won't have to deal with crap like this anymore.  Someday soon I hope.

Yes, I am the Underachieving Home Owner.

Here in Stoughton, Massachusetts it is absolutely freaking beautiful outside.  There isn't a cloud in the sky, it is warm and spring is definitely in the air.  I ran around and opened all the windows in my house.  The breeze was blowing and I smelled something fabulous.  It was a scent I loved but I had trouble placing it, it had been months since I smelled it last.  It couldn't be, could it?  Then as I heard the buzzing through my bedroom window I confirmed my suspicion, fresh cut grass, in March.  Needless to say the lawn mowing that was being done certainly wasn't coming from my yard but from George, my neighbor for the past twelve years, also known as the man with the fantastic yard.

I really do love spring but what I dread is the yard work.  I don't think dread is the right more, more like hate, despise, loath.  In the fall I usually let the leaves lie where they land, hoping that some wind will take them away (and into George's yard, he is much better it picking them up than me) but alas, it never happens.  That means that come spring time I am left with a big pile of crap to deal with and no motivation to do it.  At the moment my back yard is pretty much dirt.  Last summer we got rid of the swing set that the kids never used anymore and it left a big gaping mud pit in it's place.  We planned to plant grass, planned being the operative word.

So now here is George, out mowing is beautiful lawn and I start feeling guilty.  Should I be out doing the same?  Or should I pick up a rake and get rid of the leaves.  Damn, it is Sunday, my one day off of the week, do I really need to spend it like that?  Tomorrow is Monday, I would much rather do it then because after all, nobody likes Mondays.  Oh wait, back to work tomorrow so that's out.  Ugh, the guilt was really mounting.  Thoughts of how fresh and clean the yard looks after a good raking crossed my mine.  I could rake and then BBQ, it was a perfect night to BBQ and I wouldn't want to with the yard looking like crap.  Decisions, Decisions, what to do?

Well, I ended up doing what every other underachieving home owner does.  I got my husband and kids together, loaded them into the car and left.  Left the smell of cut grass, left my shabby looking lawn and most importantly left the sound of the lawn mower next door reminding me that I am just delaying the inevitable, another year of lackluster landscaping.  And I loved every second of it, enjoying a beautiful day out with my family.

Where Everybody Knows Your Name....As Long As Your Name is Sean.

Saint Patrick's Day is upon us and for some reason it always makes me reminisce of the old days.  You know those day, back before kids and serious responsibilities?  When your life was your own and you did a lot of crazy stuff (most of which is very hard to remember).  I was chatting with a friend of mine today about friends from the past and he asked a good question.  He said, "When am I going to see a blog about Sugrue's Pub?"  So in honor of St. Paddy himself, welcome to Sugrue's Pub.

Back when I was in college there was a guy who lived across the hall from me named Dean.  I never realized when I met him my freshman year the adventures I would have thanks to him and his friends from his hometown of Quincy, Ma.  His friends and his girlfriend used to come up to UMASS to party all the time.  They were always a lot of laughs and I became close with all of them.  What I never realized all those weekends at school was that in their native setting they were not just a lot of laughs but they were the craziest, funnest bunch of people on the face of the earth.

My first summer home from school I was invited to Sugrue's Pub for the first time.  I remember Dean calling me and telling me to head over because everybody was going there.  My first question was how I was going to get in as I was still just 19 years old.  I got a laugh at that question and was assured it wouldn't be a problem.  I got in my car and drove into Quincy.  Turns out that Sugrue's Pub wasn't a pub at all, it was actually the somewhat finished basement of our friend Mike Sugrue's house.  It was where all those crazy people I had met over the past year hung out and partied.  It was dark, a bit dingy, cramped and the best place on earth.

The first thing I learned at the Pub was that half of the patrons where named Sean.  It was an Irish town after all.  We had Sean Conroy, Sean Hannon, Shawn Dougherty (ok he spelled his name the fake way but whatever), Sean Sugrue and a few more that came and went.  It was also the first time I realized that to the Irish the name Kerry worked for not just girls but boys too.  Although I had grown up with Irish heritage my eyes were opened to just how great being Irish could be.

These new friends taught me how to enjoy every minute of life.  We drank, we laughed, we cried, we watched a lot of sports.  I learned how important Larry Bird really was and why it was a must for all to touch the Larry Legend poster whenever our team was losing and Larry would make things better.  I learned that Sugrue's Pub was just as great as the Boston Garden because it too had obstructed view seats to watch the big game in.  We played every drinking game known to man and even made up a few of our own.  The vegetable game was the best.  Just watching Lisa Gilman trying to say rutabaga three times in a row without showing her teeth when she was shitfaced will forever be etched my my memory.

I spent many night sleeping on a random couch, or the floor or whatever spot I could find.  There was no need to drive drunk after a night spend at the Pub.  Everybody was welcome to crash.  The rug had absorbed so much spilled beer through the years that it was actually kind of like a water bed to sleep on.   At one point or another I had a crush on somebody at the Pub.  Dean was the only one who was safe because his girlfriend Kim would have kicked my ass if I even thought about it.  And my friends Liz and Jessica found a few of the guys to be charming as well.

I could go on for hours with all of the memories I have of this time in my life and these great people I knew.  I am sure I will revisit some stories in my blog as time goes on.  It was one of the best times in my life and I miss it so much sometimes.  I will have to contact some of the guys about a reunion and the near future because that I am sure would be great fodder to write about.  So until then, Happy Paddy's Day!!!!

The crew on Halloween

How I Met Your Father.

The other day my oldest asked me how I met his father (also known as my husband).  Truth is, I couldn't come up with a child friendly way to explain it to him.  He ended up with, "It was a long time ago, in a galaxy far far away".  The good thing is that all of you wonderful people who read my blog get to hear the real story as I am assuming your virgin ears won't be tarnished.  And a good story it is.

The year was 1998, I was a year out of college and working a real job and living in a crappy apartment with some friends in wonderful Quincy, Massachusetts.  I was loving life.  I partied hard and often (ok all of you co workers of mine that are reading this, yes, it is true, I haven't always been an old mother prude).  My second home was at a little dive Irish bar called Sarsfield's.

Now what was so special about Sarsfield's you ask?  Well, for starters it was a major sausage fest and I almost never had to pay for a drink.  For another it was a two dollar cab ride home.  And for a third, it was a haven for the Irish.  Being a good Irish American girl I felt the need to mingle with those from the home land.  Oh and did I mention I almost never had to pay for a drink?

But to get back to the story at hand, I was hanging at Sarsfield's with my crazy ass friend Liz one Sunday night (June 14th to be exact).  It was usually Liz that I dragged to the bar with me as she could throw them back like nobody else I knew and was always a good conversation piece because of all of her various tattoos (this was back before tattoos were as hot as they are now).  We were sitting at a table having a drink when we realized that we were being stared down by an "interesting" group of guys across the bar.  By interesting I mean two head bangers with hair down to their asses, a skin head and a guy with enormous ears. 

Liz and I, back in the day.

After being ogled for about a half and hour the one with the ears walked over with two fresh Bud Lights and handed them to us and said that he and the boys wanted to buy us a drink.  He put them down and walked away, back to his table.  Liz and I just looked at each other and shook out heads.  Naive Irish boys, obviously they were a little green in the way of life in America.  Liz, being Liz, stood up, walked over to the guys and explained to them that it would in fact be alright for them to come over and talk with us, they did buy us a drink after all.  They pulled over some chairs and the craic began.  (For those of you not versed in Irish slang craic basically means fun).

See what I mean about the ears.  So cute.

It turns out that this "interesting" group of guys was actually a riot.  Granted, they were so fresh off the boat we could only understand about half of what they were saying between the thick brogues and the insane amount of alcohol we consumed.  At one point I think I agreed to some rather scandalous behavior out of share misunderstanding which thankfully never happened.  The skin head was all over Liz and it was clear that the one with the ears was infatuated with me (duh, of course he was, who wouldn't be).  We danced like crazy and I spent most of the time on the dance floor removing hands from my breasts.  We closed out the bar and said our good nights and I figured that was the end of that story.

The longhairs with the owner of Sarsfield's.  And those are not wigs.  They dyed their hair white for a Gaelic Football match.

Turns out I was wrong.  A couple of nights later we returned to the bar to find ears and the longhairs checking us out again.  The skin head was no where to be seen and to this day my husband swears he wasn't there the first night.  Liz would beg to differ on that one as he was a bit on the creepy side.  The boys came over with drinks again and this time sat down.  Turns out that we never actually found out their names that first night so that was a bit awkward so we were re introduced to Alan, Brad and Mark.  The night turned into another blurry beer and dance filled event.  As did several more in the upcoming weeks.

Three weeks later Alan moved in with me.  Six months later we were engaged and six months after that we were married.  It was a bit whirlwind to say the least.  Liz never did get involved with the longhairs (I think she was holding out hope that the skin head would come back) but she always came along for the fun and because she could actually translate what the hell Alan was saying most of the time.

 It was been almost fourteen years since that night.  Alan's ears have thankfully evened out with his head.   I can understand every word that comes out of his mouth now.  We have two wonderful children.  Neither one of us drinks at all anymore and life could not be any better.  For anybody out there that thinks you can't find the perfect person at a bar I beg to differ.  That is where I found my prince.

Pure happiness!

Ten Items or Less, Bitch!

There are a lot of things in this world that piss me off.  However, I think that nothing gets under my skin more than the douche bags at the grocery store who just can't follow the rules.  The ones that make your quick trip to pick up a couple of things into an agonizing hell.  You all know the ones I am talking about, the ones that take a carriage full into the 10 items or less line. 

This is a phenomenon that I just don't understand.  Is it that these people can't read the big glowing sign?  Highly doubtful.  It is more likely that they are just assholes that don't give a damn about anybody else except themselves.  They don't want to stand in a line behind a person with a large order so they just figure they will screw over the poor guy who gets a fifteen minute break and just wants to buy a snack.

Needless to stay yes, I got stuck behind one of these people today.  I was at my local grocery store with my basket that had ten Weight Watchers meals in it.  I had to pick up the kids at a play date and had just enough time to run in and run out.  I grab my goods and zip over to the checkouts.  There was one 10 items or less line open so of course I head there.  And what do I see, a woman beginning to unload her five thousand items onto the belt.  I shoot her an annoyed look and said to the cashier, "Isn't this the ten items or less line?"  The cashier replied that it was and just gave me a "I'm sorry" kind of look.  Obviously the bitch in front of me didn't get the point.  She is just continues along, ignoring the comment I made. 

Now normally I would let it go at this point but I had places to be.  I said to the crack whore in front of me, "Excuse me, this aisle is for customers with 10 items or less."  She turns around and says, "Oh well."  That just pushed me over the edge.  I replied with "What makes you so special that you can break the rules?"   She had the nerve to say, "Because I want to and there is nothing you can do about it."  Wrong answer bitch!

I dropped my basket and headed over to find the manager.  I explained the situation to the manager and the response I got from the bitch.  She was actually really nice and apologized to me and headed straight over to the checkout.  She explained to the lady that this was 10 items or less and would have to go to another line.  The lady said "But I already have all my stuff on the belt."  The manager than started to put the stuff back in the carriage for her.  At this point a got a real nasty look from the bitch but I just gave her a great big smile. 

Needless to stay, it probably would have been quicker to just let her finish with her order but the satisfaction I got from her being put in her place was worth every second I had to wait.  I think the manager and cashier enjoyed it as well.  I am also thinking that this is the last time that lady tries to pull that crap again.  So there was my good deed for the day, I rid the grocery store of an inconsiderate jerk.  One down, countless others left to go.

Great, I have a stalker!

It was a bit horrifying to find out today that I have a stalker.   This is the crazy kind of stalker that you really just want out of you life forever.  The kind that is so insecure in their own life that they feel the need to try to fuck up yours. 

I broke down and joined Pinterest last night.  Not even 24 hours into my new obsession I get an email telling me that I am being followed by a certain person.  My first thought was, what the hell is this all about?  I couldn't understand how this person that I thankfully managed to get out of my life almost a year ago would be following me on Pinterest.  Then it dawned on me, she didn't mean to follow me, she was stalking me and was stupid enough not to cover her tracks and hit the wrong button.

Now don't get me wrong, I know how fabulous I am, it is hard to deny.  Of course this person would want to stalk me, she realized how sad and pathetic her life was without me.  She needs to keep track of my every move since her life is so empty without me.  Why didn't I realize that before?  But now it has me thinking, what else has she been doing?  Is she stalking my Facebook page, reading my blog, driving by my house or my job to see if I am there?  I wouldn't put it past somebody whose way of getting to meet people is by sending Facebook friend requests to complete strangers and then finding a way to weasel their way into their lives (yes I know, stupid move be me accepting that friend request).

So what will it be next?  Am I going to find my husband's pigeons dead in a pot on my stove?  What do I do about this, it is really fucking creepy?  Do I need to change my identity, move to a new home, get a new job, hide my children and pets?  I really hope not, I really love my life, plus in one minute it will be my birthday and I don't want to be harassed on my birthday? 

Pinterest Interest

It seems like the hot new thing out there is Pinterest.  Every time I am trolling around Facebook somebody else is posting about it.  I even saw it on the news last week.  It made me think, "What the hell is this thing and why am I not doing it?"  I asked a couple of girls at work about it and they raved about it.  So of course that means I had to check it out.

So off I go to the website.  I searched for some of my friends and was actually shocked by just how many of them are on there.  I was hoping to find a new mecca of awesomeness.  What I found was recipes, lots and lots of recipes.  Isn't that what www.allrecipes.com is for?  Is this online corkboard going to replace my favorite website? 

I figured I would give it a try though, all these people can't be wrong.  I tried to figure out how to sign up and realized that you had to ask for an invite, and then you are put on a waiting list.  What the hell is this thing, the CIA?  Ok seriously, why the exclusivity?  Don't you people want as many members as possible?  Are you not an attention whore like me who likes to check how many people are hitting up your site on a daily basis?  Are you looking for a specific type of person?  Before I get an invite do you do a background check?  If I don't have enough Facebook friends do I get rejected?

Well, of course I signed up for the invite.  I wanted to see what their reasoning for rejecting me would be.  Surprise, surprise, the next day I was accepted.  I was actually giddy.  They like me, they really like me.  I passed their test.  Now what?  That was two days ago and the email is still sitting there.  I just can't get the motivation click on the link.  Do I really want to look at more recipes for things I don't have time to make or that are way too many Weight Watcher points?  Is there more I can find?  I want a good book list, but then again that is why I use www.Goodreads.com.  So help, should I click that link or pretend I never got it?

Oh and by the way, since there is no exclusivity on my blog, no invite necessary to become part of my world, look up and to the right, see that Facebook link, yes, click it.  I am an attention whore and not afraid to admit it.

Get the Hell Out!!!!

As I always like to remind you all, I am a waitress.  I always also like to point out that most of the time it sucks.  But there are some times that it REALLY sucks.  One of those times is when you have been working a very long day with no break and you are almost ready to go home but you can't.  Why can't you leave you ask?  Because there is that one fucking table that just won't get the hell out.

On behalf of all waiters and waitresses out there I have decided it is my duty to point out the signs that you have overstayed your welcome.  Although most people are smart enough to pick up on these, there are some that are just too dense or too rude to pay attention to these signs and exit the premises.

1) You look around you and realize that every other table in the restaurant is empty.  Unless you are at a very unpopular place this is a good indicator that it is time to go.

2) You try to order dessert after sitting with nothing but a water in front of you for four hours but can't because the kitchen is closed.  If you have stayed longer than the kitchen guys and you are in an actual restaurant and not a bar, get the hell out!

3) Your server told you it was last call two hours ago.  Hmm, no more alcohol, who would want to stay?  Get up and go to the after hours club, buddy.

4) The cleaning crew had arrived and is vacuuming the carpets all around you.  Can you really keep talking over the roar of the vacuum and why would you want to?  Bye Bye, time to go.

5) The lights either go way up or are turned off.  The adjusting of lighting is a universal sign for "We want you to go home so we can go home".

6) The only other person you have seen in the last hour is your server and they have been shooting you dirty looks.  That is because everybody else has left.  You are subjecting your poor server to agony as they are watching the minutes drag by as he or she can't fathom how yet again the stupidest people on earth are sitting at their table.  Please people, get the point and just go!

7) You get a visit from the manager requesting you to depart.  The worst about this is that there are actual people who will not get up to move at this point.  They just sit there continuing on their conversation.  Managers really don't take this step unless they have to.  Restaurants and bars can get fined for having people inside once they pass the time on there liquor license.  Ignorant SOB's GO THE FUCK HOME!

So there you have it.  I am sure I missed a few but I am sure I got the point across.  And if by any chance you know a douche bag who just doesn't get it, send them my way, I would be happy kick their ass.

Car Dealers are the Spawl of Satan!

I hate car dealers.  Everything about them is just trying to screw you up the ass.  Whether you are looking to buy a car or get your existing one fixed they try to figure out every way to squeeze every last penny out of you.

Sure I can

I have had the same car for 8 years.  It is a 2004 Kia Sedona.  I bought it brand spanking new for 11,000 bucks, pretty decent deal there.  I also bought the extended warranty to give me 10 years/100,000 mile bumper to bumper coverage.  No don't get me wrong, I love my car.  In 8 years I have had to put almost no money into it.  It has been reliable and gets me where I need to go.  The problem is that I am at 99,819 miles, which means in just 181 miles my warranty is gone.  And we all know what that means, everything will start going wrong.

So I took my car across the street to my local mechanic.  He is very good and is really good friends with a friend of mine so I know he doesn't screw me.  I told him to look that car over and tell me anything that might be broken that the warranty would cover.  He did come up with a few things that needed to be done and of course only one was covered by the warranty.  He told me I had to go to the dealer.  I almost cried.  Car dealers are the worst and the closest one to me is a good half hour away.   Plus, we are a one car family, so I have the choice of staying and waiting or getting a rental.

I had to run my butt of yesterday to get the car to the dealer, set up the repairs and the warranty, get the rental, run back to my town, drop the kids off with the sitter and then go to work.  I thought I had to be to work at 5 but seeing that I walked in at 5:28 and my boss said  "Oh you made it on time." I must have misread my schedule.  I hate my rental car.  It is a Nissan Versa.  I feel like I am driving around in a clown car.  But whatever, it is supposedly covered by my warranty.

I feel like I am driving this

Now my mechanic warned me that when the dealer looked at my car they were going to give me a huge list of what needed to be done that WASN'T covered by my warranty.  Although yes, I know there is stuff to be done, I know what it is and I am not letting those leeches do it.  I will take it to my regular guy for that.  Boy was my mechanic right.  I had to stop the guy after about 10 things and tell him flat out that he wasn't getting any money out of me.  He wasn't too happy about that but whatever, he wanted to charge me double what anywhere else would.

Next I was told that the car would be done by early afternoon.  Ya right, when have they ever been accurate  on that.  Between coffee breaks, lunch breaks and cigarette breaks my car is now going to be done Monday.   They gave me some long story about the part being hard to do even though they told me originally it was going to be a 2 hour job.  Plus, since it won't be ready they say I am going to have to pay Sunday's rental fee for the car.  Oh right, like I am going to let them get away with that.  After I finished ripping the guy a new asshole I now am covered until they finish on Monday.

Now I am stuck for 2 more days in a clown car.  My car will probably shit the bed in 182 miles and I will be stuck at the dealer again, to buy a new car.  It has been a long time since I had to negotiate a deal.  I can only image what crap they have come up with to screw me in all that time.  I think it is time to buy a horse.  Better gas mileage and natural fertilizer for my garden.  Why didn't I do that long ago?

I had the right idea when I was a kid.  I should have just stuck with it.