This past Christmas, my son received a Star Wars branded fishing pole from a relative. It was literally a small child-sized fishing pole with Darth Vader on the reel and R2D2 on a disk at the end of the line. It made no sense whatsoever. Even I, one who had never seen the trilogy before had a hunch that there was little to no fishing involved. Unless I was about to stumble upon a touching reconciliation-themed fishing trip between evil dark overlord and son, I’m pretty sure someone would have mentioned a desire to toss a line over the hull of the Millennium Falcon on their bucket list. But, as baffling as that toy is, I really dig it. The kids rarely pay attention to it, preferring instead the far more logical Spongebob fishing pole. That leaves me to absent-mindedly flick it across the room while sitting at the computer. I think it’s because the pole and I are a kindred spirit of sorts.

If you take the entire genre of science fiction out of the Nerd Equation, my geek pedigree is as pure and true as toothless and sickly British royalty. I was in the marching band (brass playas, holla), I was an organizer of the high school Renaissance Fair, I played weekly D&D games, and I followed Kevin Smith movie with a zeal that would rival the most pasty of virgins. Science fiction was just something I never got into. So ignorant I was of even the most basic of references, I sometimes felt like a branding mistake. No matter how thick my black-rimmed glasses were, my knowledge was as relevant as a Star Wars fishing pole.

This might soon change. I actually really dug The Empire Strikes Back. So much so that I had to stop myself from reaching for the next installment less this article be soiled by too much knowledge. But lets get the surprises out of the way first:

* I was expecting more action.

* I was expecting Billy Dee Williams to be an active rebel who turns out to be an Imperial spy.

* I was expecting Han’s “I know” to be a completely different tone.

* I was expecting Luke’s hand to stay off.

The Empire Strikes Back was about a thousand times better than A New Hope. Both the actors and the characters were more mature and more interesting to watch. Instead of a whiny teenager, Luke’s now a petulant young man and a cross between impatience and hubris. Which sounds unpleasant, but is actually refreshing in its realism. Darth Vader’s vulnerability is more apparent, but I’m not sure if they hinted at this in the first one since I was slightly drunk. And although Han and Leah’s Sam and Diane shtick was overplayed, annoying, and retardedly dialogued, it mercifully stopped when Billy Dee’s smoooooothness came into the picture. Smooth.

Plus, there was the added bonus of finally getting pathetically specific references!

"HNNNNNNNNNN"

"NRRRRRRRRRRRRR"

-words from a cartoon-

-words from Star Wars-

I know there’s more, but I’m working backwards here.

Oh, man and there’s so much more in store for me! Finally caring about Randall’s Death Star rant on Clerks! Finally getting about one quarter of the Craption submissions at Cracked! Not being made fun of by Derek over at the comic book store! (I hate him so much.) But I don’t see this turning into a faggathon in the way of dressing up at conventions and whatnot. I just think it was a very cool movie that I’ll probably watch again one day.

Now, on to Return of the Jedi!

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AND NOW, THE SITE NEWS WITH MALCOLM

Finally, look for me to be posting some of the wacky shit I’ll be making as part of my school assignments. Technically everything I create while attending VFS is property of the school, but apparently they will very politely not sue me so long as I don’t sell it. So don’t nobody go giving me huge sums of money for the things I make, because that would be awful.

Even though producing and publishing top-grade internet comedy meets my financial needs in ways that most men can only dream of, sometimes I get a hankering for an honest day’s work amongst the little people. Or even nine hours of honest day’s work, five days a week, in the beating sunlight and blisteringly fresh Vancouver Island air.

Yes, I have recently found gainful employment with a local landscaping company. The Comox Valley (where I live,) houses many such businesses, as it also has the world’s largest population of retirees living in houses with yards that are far beyond their means to maintain. This means that basically anyone with a lawnmower, rake, and a truck to carry them around in can slap a phone number on a business card and have a hundred clients inside a week. I’m doing my best to avoid outright calling landscaping a conspiracy to take advantage of the elderly, but after two weeks on the job it’s pretty hard to see it any other way. In our defense, those octogenarians are totally asking for it.

"No, don't bother telling us your hourly rate, we'll just sign a cheque and leave it blank."

Sadly, a landscaper’s lot is not all hoodwinking the infirm. No matter how many codgers you bamboozle, eventually you will have to scape some land. But if you, like so many other amateur landscapers, balk at this daunting proposition, fear not! I have prepared several exhuastive glossaries of terms to help smooth your transition from Normal Human Being to Lawncare Professional.

CHAPTER ONE: YOUR OPPONENTS

THE LAWN – Your primary foe. A well-kept lawn is nothing so much as it is segregation in action: a patch of level, fertile ground has been strewn with good, wholesome grass seeds that are not to be sullied by association with impure, shiftless weeds (bushes and trees are allowable on a lawn so long as they keep to themselves, but we’ll get to them in a minute.)

Just look at that clean, pure, healthy lawn! I bet that lawn never commits any crimes or worships any heathen gods.

Besides being constantly mowed, lawns need the following actions to be performed with varying regularity in order to stay healthy:

- Weeding (once per week)

- Fertilizing and Liming (no more than once every two months)

- Moss control (once a season)

- Aerating and De-thatching (once a year)

- Pedicures and Manicures (whenever the lawn is feeling down)

- Pep Talks (for when the lawn’s self-confidence has been shaken by harsh language)

- Fervent Worship (once at sunrise, once at sunset)

- Blood Sacrifices (when you have incurred the lawn’s wrath or once every Winter Solstice, whichever comes first)

- Foreplay (whenever you feel your lawn needs a little “extra attention,” if you get my drift)

- Trimming (whenever you mow)

FLOWER BEDS

Sometimes, when there is little to no mowing to do at a client’s house (or when your boss is feeling like an asshole,) you will be tasked with cleaning up flower beds, a job for those seeking to contract arthritis in both their knees AND their hands but don’t feel like planning two separate activities.

Flower beds come in two distinct varieties:

- Regular Dirt Beds: the standard variation for people who like growing plants. Full of dirt, weeds, rocks, and flowers. Take the weeds and rocks, leave the dirt and flowers.

- Rock Beds: the variation for idiots who have no goddamn business owning a flower bed, or a house for that matter. Rock beds are made up of golfball-sized white stones spread thickly on top of black canvas, the theory being that this will make them easy to maintain. This theory is retarded, because weeds grow everywhere, and all these proud homeowners have accomplished is the installation of an ugly shitpile that can’t be weeded using tools costing several hundred dollars.

Oh, look! Someone put a big fucking pile of weed-infested rocks in the middle of your lawn! And you paid them to do it! Smooth thinking, dipshit.

TREES AND BUSHES

Despite their daunting size and menacing foliage, trees and bushes are nowhere near as dangerous as their vicious outward appearance might make them out to be. Possibly the greatest danger a tree faces to the careless landscaper is trepanating him as he blunders blindly into a low-hanging branch while mowing (which, admittedly, is fairly unpleasant.) Bushes are more docile than their taller cousins, though some of the more ornery species can cause unsuspecting lawncare professionals no end of grief by ensnaring them in their spiky tentacles.

On the whole, however, the relationship between a properly cautious landscaper and these noble flora is a healthy one. On the part of the landscaper, that is, because most of his interactions with trees and bushes involve him cutting parts off of them (or, in rare cases, removing them altogether, which means that he gets to use the really fun tools.)

You people seriously have no idea how great it is to just wail on a tree root with a pickaxe. It feels AMAZING.

However, I’m getting ahead of myself here – CHAPTER 2: YOUR WEAPONS will be published later this week, and will detail all those lovely implements that the modern age has blessed the humble lawncare professional with. See you then!