Ode to My Lawn

I’ve stopped mowing you.

I’ve stopped weedeating you.

I’ve stopped watering you.

Why won’t you just DIE?!

Die, damn you, DIE!

It’s too fu*kin’ hot to do yard work, and it’s just fescue and Bermuda. It’ll be back next year, despite my best efforts.

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4 Responses to Ode to My Lawn

  1. Sarcastro says:

    We need a support group.

  2. fishwreck says:

    Will you come mow my lawn then?

  3. SistaSmiff says:

    Must be those years you spent in California that even makes you consider watering the grass. Confessional…I have the tendency to want to water the grass myself (must have something to do with being birthed in Orange County) but Mr. Smiff won’t let me.

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