Postable Notes Underneath The Swinging Lights

Not reading The Onion is my new favorite past-time. It relaxes me, and reminds me that most news I read already sounds like The Onion, anyway. This way, I forget that I am not reading The Onion. I do not really miss it.

In other news, the workbench in the previous post folds away for additional storage and for subtracted benchage.

Furthermore, I hope to show some swell seasonally summer snapshots shortly showing sculptured césped. (I almost got all S's there, but almost only counts in spelling where people usually know what you mean anyway.) I never would have thought that grass would grow in my hard yard knowing what it looked like 1.3 years ago:
Hmm.