fuck lawns

i hate lawns.


my personal hell.

if they serve a purpose like you are always out there sunbathing or playing games with your kids or whatever, that’s swell. i can appreciate that. what i can’t appreciate is ‘keeping up with the jones” for the sake of keeping up with the jones’. it’s doubly wasteful because it costs money to grow it to start with, and then it costs more money to get rid of it — pay to grow it, pay to cut it. seeds, fertilizer, tons of water, a riding mower (because no one uses push mowers anymore, how passe), gas and oil and maintenance for the mower, herbicides for weeds and pesticides for bugs…god knows what else. and for what? a trophy lawn that i look at and do nothing with? fuck right off. lawn connoisseurs can suck my dick. what am i going to do with 3 acres of lawn, besides spend all my time maintaining it? “sorry honey, i’ll be too busy edging the lawn for the next three weeks so you’ll have to look after the kids. and don’t let them on the lawn, i just re-seeded section 7 and the fertilizer is a known carcinogen. there’s no way i could afford cancer treatments for little jimmy with all my surplus income being dumped into this black hole of a wasteful hobby.”

if i win the lottery, maybe i’ll buy a lot in a subdivision and just plant a bunch of trees on it. turn it back into a forest and fuck with the neighbours. maybe i’d set a trend and they’d all bulldoze their houses and try to grow bigger trees than me. i’d be fully down with that.

i think i’m becoming delusional.


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