Hey friends, do you like dandelions?
I don’t. Allow me to explain.
Sunday was an awesome day around these parts. The sun was shining, the skies were blue, and the hip-hop blaring from passing cars was riddled with expletives. It was a perfect day to devote to back-wrenching lawn maintenance.
My first task: rid my lawn of those beautiful, golden-faced dandelion predators. Armed with my trusty air-pump spray gun laden with delicious weed-killer, I stepped out of my garage ready to do some serious dandelion damage.
The ensuing carnage was like the last 40 minutes of Rambo, only I was snapping the necks of dandelions instead of Asian people.
Seriously you guys, it was like a dandelion holocaust out on my lawn. I squirted them so hard with the weed killer, their dandelion faces just melted off. I became death itself, spraying my toxic nectar all over the ground like an incontinent werewolf, baying at passersby until they scurried to the other side of the street in fear.
Thankfully, there’s no equivalent to the Nuremberg trials for dandelion-slaughterers like me, or I’d be popping cyanide pills on the morning of my execution like they were Mike & Ikes
go get ‘em! the amount of ant and weed carnage in my lawn the past two weeks has been a blood bath as well.
Not to gloat or anything, but I think I had 2 dandelions in my yard that I had to spray. I’m the envy of my neighbors as their “yard acne” as i like to call dandelions is much worse than mine. And my neighbors wonder why I avoid them like awkward teenagers.