Wednesday, June 18, 2008

I Hate Grass


So I'm a little bit of a late bloomer. I've lived in my house for almost two years, but only got grass a few weeks ago. After they laid the sod, they told me not to cut it for a few weeks.

3 weeks later, I have wild animals hiding in my lawn.

As my lawnmower chugs along through the forest, all my annoying snobby suburbanite neighbors seem to simultaneously be taking a walk on my street. They sneer and chuckle at me as I empty my bag every 4 feet. I've done one circle around my front lawn and filled 3 garbage bags. One guy starts making jokes.

"Hyuk, I guess you should probably cut the grass more often! Haw haw!"

I point at the long grass in front of my lawnmower. "C'mere and lie down."

"Huh?" He looks a bit shocked.

"Nevermind," I smile cheerfully.

"Oh, ok. Have a good night," he says, sounding a bit scared now.

"Fuck you very much!"

He grabs his wife's hand and walks away very quickly. I hate having to mow my lawn. What the hell do I have to do it for? So I can get an approving smile and nod from one of my annoying neighbors? So they won't walk by and sneer and my unkempt front lawn? So I can stand at the end of my driveway, hands on my hips and chin held up high in the air? Screw em all. I don't need this crap. I'm better than that. I don't care about your sneers and jibes. I care even less about your approval. I'd eat a bag of fertilizer before I start feeling fulfilled by a well cut lawn. 22 garbage bags later, the lawn is finally cut. I'm sweaty and exhausted. My hands and feet are permanently stained green. I want to order a concrete truck to cover my lawn.

Another neighbor walks by, gives my lawn the thumbs up and says "Looking good,"

My heart is filled with joy. Somebody shoot me.

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