This is not a new realization. I've known it for a while. Come to terms with it. But this weekend was a first.
I backed into an electric fence.
An electric fence used to keep cows in check.
It works.
image courtesy of the mother [insert plural of the nasty word here], aka "speedrite," who make the fence. and the crappy signs. that, if they appear at all, are positioned only near gates. and which, if they are present, have a supermongo-sized logo and a teeny tiny sketch of that hand touching arrowhead-looking things and look nothing like said sign in the photo above. and absolutely none of which have the word "electric" printed anywhere.
4 comments:
Junk in the trunk or not. That sounds painful.
your bum is not too big. that fence was too small.
xoxo.
I think Rachel summed up my feelings about this situation pretty well, OUCH.
I don't even know what to say about that. Sounds horrifying. And I cannot believe your hubby has found multiple four leave clovers in his lifetime. I don't even want to tell you how much time I have devoted to this quest and to no avail!
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