Tongues, Grooves, and Chainsaws

Just when everybody thought it was safe to assume I'd never emerge from my heroin-addict-level of torpor, I suddenly started accomplishing things yesterday. The tree I cut down to a stump in the front yard came back with a vengeance, resurrecting itself into a 15 ft. tall bush in the few months since the original deed. It was blocking out the view of most of my front yard, and therefore the necessary guilt feelings to ever accomplish anything outside again, not to mention stealing valuable minerals from my soil.

It was once again Chainsaw Time.
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