To The Butthole Who Tore Up My Lawn

To The Butthole Who Tore Up My Lawn:

When I heard your engine revving and tires spinning in the middle of the night last night, I already found you annoying - and back then, I thought you were my strange new neighbor, getting caught in your own lawn.

View from the front yard

When I woke up this morning, and was dragging my trash and recycling to the curb, I saw what lawn you actually tore the crap out of last night. It was mine.

What. The. WHAT?!

This would have been annoying any given day of the year. But let me spell out for you why this was particularly bad timing, Butthole:

1) I'm already not having a great month

2) The fiancé is not here, so at seven in the morning, there's no one I can just feel comfortable going ahead and waking up to say "Some Butthole tore up the lawn! Please help me with this!"

3) I'm moving soon - which means that if this had happened a few weeks later, it would have been someone else's problem, AND it means this might get factored in to my deposit return assessment, and if you cost me one dime off my deposit you are going to get smacked SO HARD BY KARMA

View from the backyard
(Seriously, doesn't do justice to the damage)

4) Because of the reasons detailed in #2 and #3, I had to roll up my sleeves, get a rake and trowel, and do the best I could pulling the yard back into some sort of recognizable yard-topography. You must have a REALLY BIG truck, Butthole, since these tire marks were massive and made actual MOATS AND RIVERS in my yard. I bet you have a really small Something Else.

5) We all know I'm not afraid to stab some vanilla. I would never stab a person, but if I ever found out who you are, well, I make no promises about Really Big Tires Belonging to Buttholes With Really Small Something Elses. Those things? Those things sound very, very stab-able.


So.

I will probably spend the next month glaring at every big truck that drives down my street... wondering if it's you, Butthole. Good thing I finally get to visit the fiancé tomorrow, or I'd really think this whole month had it in for me and all the ones I love!

May your tires rot and your Small Something Else be laughed at, frequently.

With disgust,
Beth