#213 "Closed Circuit"
Spring is here. So is the annual start of one of my occupations: trying to control the awesome force of nature that is my yard. Here in Georgia, no matter
what I cut down, get rid of, pull out, or talk about my skin tags to in order to bore to death (plants need intellectual stimulation), it grows back.
I'm "Third Of An Acre Sisyphus." My hands are covered with blisters and calluses and wasp and spider stings (occasional convulsions, but they go away).
My feet hurt, my back aches, and I have permanent lines on my face from the rubber bands on the dust mask that I wear. I'm living the
big, fat, grassy, weed whacky, red ants in my pants, carpenter bees in my adventure hat, thorny pine cone holes in my fingers, ticks tocking on my
scalp, freakin' American Dream.
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Crusted Salt comics by Jimmy Brunelle