You may not be able to tell by looking, but...

...this is the Mower of Doom:



I hate it. I hate it so much.
First, it wouldn't start. So, we called up Jen's mower-guy brother and he mowed for us then told us how to fix the mower. So we bought all the parts, he put them together, it started - woo! Then, a few days later, we go to actually use it. This is yesterday. It starts so nicely in the back yard!!! We scream some WOOOOOO!!'s and turn it off to take it to the front yard, which is what really needs to be mowed. And, I should note, it's not the grass that needs mowed - just the shin-high weeds.
Anyway. We travel over bumpy bricks to get to the front yard, the blade hits every brick and feels like it's dragging... it's loosened up so I tighten it again. And we start it. Nothing. Pump pump pump, pull on the string... nothing. So we let it sit, and then it was about to pour down rain so I took it back to the back and covered it up and let it go.
Today, I try again. Pump pump pump, pull, nothing, pump pump, pull, nothing. NOTHING.

And, this would be fine if all the effort were for something enjoyable, like, I don't know, a Tiki Hut or a magical regenerating chocolate tree. But it's not. It's MOWING THE LAWN. I HATE MOWING! I HATE MOWERS! Gahhhhh!

So I've determined that, really, my only requirement now for marriage will be that the guy will have to love mowing. There you go, now you know the secret to winning my heart: lawn care.

Ohh I hate it.