Ladies, do you honestly think you could get your man out into a blazing hot, bug-infested wheat field with geometrically-aligned charts, sickles, machetes, and whatnot, carving massive, intricately-designed patterns that appear from high above to be the creative handiwork or signposts for aliens plotting an Earth invasion when you have to literally crowbar him off the couch when he’s watching a ballgame just to get him to mow the lawn?
Resting my case….
BILL
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