You probably think I mean that someone has let their family dog take a dump on my grass. Noooooo. I took a look and that shit is human. Those little corn pellets are the dead giveaway. And that poop is sitting up there on my lawn like it owns the place. Which is so not true because I'm the one that pays the mortgage and takes care of everything.
What right does anyone have to use my fescue to defecate upon? Who made them king for all time?
I'm fairly laissez faire as life goes, but when you start shining your shitola where I live, like it was your personal porta potty, I have to put my foot down, hopefully not in the middle of your crap. If you want to use my lawn instead of yours, which is zoned for people pooping, then I will have to ask you to leave a donation in my mailbox to cover the costs of cleaning up this mess. Let's make it around thirty dollars a month.
And don't give me any sass about what great manure it'll be for the grass. Because that's just a crock and you know it. The truth is you've left untreated human waste in my yard without asking permission -- not that I'd let you leave it even if you asked. So l hope you're willing to meet me half way on this. Pay for the clean up, then curb yourself and dump your dump down below at the street so it's not stinking things up here.
It occurs to me that you may think there's nothing I can do to you, since you do your business on my lawn when I'm not around and I can't stop you Based on the size of the load you've dumped here I know you're much bigger than I am, too.
But there's an old saying, don't get mad, get even. I subscribe to that. Also revenge is best served cold. So while your turds will continue to pile up here over time, since I'm not going to clean up your mess, I will put a sign up to let people know that's your scat, not mine.
So quit with the pooping on my lawn or pay for the clean up. My lawn looked great before. Now it looks like shit cause of all the crap you're leaving on it. And that's starting to piss me off.
NOTE: Mrs. Linklater has screwed the pooch [a metaphor] here apparently. This entire entry was meant to be a metaphor for the ad assault we journalers are facing here at AOL. Guess I'm just too esoteric for my own good.
Oh -- if you access my journal via other methods -- i.e., NON AOL BROWSERS -- you won't see the ads or understand anything that I've been trying to explain. But instead of deleting this entry, I'm just going to keep it up for my own amusement.
For the record. If someone really pooped on my lawn, you don't want to know what I would do.