Soon as I see that big old rigged up antique timer wanna- be laid on my tree, I know what's comming next. That stupid pad will be hauled out from behind the door. Then you put those weights on MY shelves of MY tree.
You alternate between stomping 100 steps, slangin' around those wimpy weights, and foot stomping' starts again. You are off your rocker. I think one of those weights rebounded and clocked you one!
Are ya done yet? Are ya done yet? Are ya done yet?