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Saturday, July 13, 2013

Get off my... square of land that has no grass whatsoever

Saturday, July 13, 2013 By

Let me tell you people about how annoyingly old and curmudgeonly I have become.

I just called the cops on a couple of college students signing people up for newspaper subscriptions. Thanks, Morris Communications, for unleashing their legendary entitlement issues on my sick-at-home Saturday.

I don't buy from Morris, because they won't stop leaving the completely useless "Augusta Shopper" in my driveway. On top of that, I have some sort of stomach thing going on, and I am kicking it like a pimp on my couch in my jammies, when this girl banged on my door and wanted me to sign up for their FYI publication (the name of which they stole from either "FYI Magazine" at Fort Gordon or re-runs of "Murphy Brown," because they know they can get away with it, being Morris, and all). 

She got really agitated and I said goodbye and closed the door. Then she started yelling obscenities in my window! I was like, "Are you kidding me? Please leave." And she kept on, so I ACTUALLY SAID "Get off my lawn!" 

People, I don't even have a lawn! It's a 5x5 bit of trees and shrubbery and those wood chips they put down because they think they're decorative but they actually look like a 1970s McDonald's playground was hit by an alien laser beam. Anyway, the cops came and told them to leave the neighborhood. 

But all I need is a wife beater shirt and a porch from which to glare at children, and I can go all Boo Radley on this neighborhood.


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