My fire truck has a trailer hitch that refuses to leave.
Four grown men have attacked this thing.
Heat.
Hammers.
Language that would make sailors apologize.
Nothing.
The guy I bought the truck from said, “Oh yeah, that’ll come right off.”
Sir…
Were you talking about this truck…
…or the next owner’s problem?
Now I need a different size ball for the horse trailer.
Again with the fractions.
Nothing on a farm is ever just…
“Buy the thing.”
It’s an Olympic event with rust.
That was the free stuff. The premium nonsense comes as a signed book — $40 paperback, $75 hardcover, or $100 for a three-pack to split with your group chat. Half of every copy turns into hay. Feed a goat, get a book.
