An Open Letter To People Who Water Their Lawns During A Drought
Hello. Hi. How are you? I’m fine. Well, actually, that’s a lie. I am not fine. I am enraged. I am livid. I am ready to freak the fuck out. Why? Because we’re in the midst of the worst drought in California history, and you won’t stop watering your fucking lawns.
I’m aware that I live in a small, unfancy place without a yard. It is nothing like your mansions, which local real estate info leads me to believe are each worth upwards of $2 million. I do not have an in-ground pool, as it appears you all do. I do not have a nanny or a gardener, as it appears you all do. I do not have a gated driveway, a big chimney (or any chimney), a pedigreed purebred dog, or a fancy car, as you all do. I do not have a large fountain in my front yard, as many of you do (remember, I do not actually have a yard at all).
What I have is anger. Anger that you fucking douchebags, with all your fancy stuff, can’t see clear to TURNING OFF THE FUCKING SPRINKLER SYSTEM.
Your sprinkler systems go on every day when I walk my dog at approximately 6 a.m. Your lush, green lawns (all planted with non-native grasses obviously) suck in all the water. Meanwhile, governor declared a state of emergency in January. IN JANUARY! And you’re still watering your lawns?
Why don’t you take all the money you use to send your kids to private school and shove it up your well-hydrated asses? Or, better yet, set the money on fire in the front lawn and then demand the fire department show up to put out the fire with gallons of water and then hire a landscaping company to reseed and regrow the same unnatural alien grass you’ve been growing for years?
I know I have no power in this situation, but I am going to throw the shadiest shade of all time at you from now until you get cited by Officer Lawman for being a greedy shitbag. If you want a lush green lawn, move the fuck to Connecticut, already.
Fuck you very much,