word!

I continuously wonder at the amazement the human populous has with a well maintained turf around ones abode.

Really? What the hell does cutting grass have to do with the human condition? Does it say were not as good as our neighbor, if the retired bastard has nothing better to do with his day/life than chop off a few inches of plant matter every couple days? Does it mean were lazy or not as good as our neighbor if we don’t beat them to punch and get the yard cut before they do, again?

I wonder if it’s pointless to ask why we do it, even if no one outside the immediate members such yards belong to are the only ones to notice, unless it is not tended to in a timely matter.

Are we that far gone as a species of animals that the only thing we have to look forward to is mowing our grass?

What the fuck makes grass so fucking special?