LAWN WARS. May my neighbor never find and read this.

Lawn wars.  Lets not pretend like they don't exist.  In my neighborhood[or perhaps just my mind], it's ON.  Spring is here, and my grass has been waiting patiently to dole out a never ending supply of work intended for me and only me.  It knows I am obsessed with certain things[like saving money], and it knows that I have an unfounded fear that no one else will ever do as good a job as I can manicuring my piece of American paradise.  The problem is the neighbor across the street feels the same way.  For the purposes of this blog/rant we will call this neighbor......Cliff.  Cliff is in his late 40s, and his yard is always........perfect.  It has irritated me since the day my bride and I called this house our home.  Green, lush, perfect mow lines.....hedging....trees.....all of it, perfect.  He also talks a perpetual blue streak with such a quick and crowded eloquence that I actually avoid the guy even though he is ridiculously nice[this also annoys me].  Now, as I said, "Cliff" is in his late-40's and lives alone.  He owns two bright WHITE cars - one Toyota Tundra truck, and one white Lexus, both with gold trim.  They are both forever spotless.  He likes to park them side-by-side in his driveway just to let you know they are free from all blemishes, smudges, or scratches that seem to afflict the rest of the population's vehicles.  My mind has oft wandered and wondered about this man who's castle is his own, with no queen to rule the land.......now, I'm not saying he is homosexual nor do I care.  Just because a man irons his bright blue, pink, and yellow patterned shorts and stares at me a little too hard for a little too long does not necessarily mean he is gay.  He is of asian descent[so if he WERE gay, would this make him Gaysian?!  Just wondering.....]with a receding hairline and a wide smile.  Well, friends - THIS IS MY SUMMER.  I find it funny that WE, right across the street, own two BLACK cars.  Kinda like the good cowboy and the bad cowboy of the wild, wild grass.  It has consumed two summers to really get this lawn where I want it, but now everything is juuuuust right.  Our grass has already come in nice and thick and green - all the trees, plants, flowers, and hedges have recently been tended to and trimmed into a virtual Eden, and I just completed the first[and arguably most beautifully executed by the hands of man]mowing of the season.  In short, the SIMS Golf Resort is open for business.  I'd like to give credit where credit is due however, and mention that, in all fairness, I have a secret weapon fertilizer that Cliff does NOT possess.  Her name is Kinley, and she is an oversized female Doberman that owns my heart.  She also owns the backyard, where she has blessed our home with more poop than a Port-A-Potty at a Chili festival.  That's another issue - Kinley's all natural offerings.  While they make our lawn a sight to behold in shades of dense emerald, they are not always picked up on time[love you baby!]and so I encounter them while in the heat of battle through sweat-soaked eyes[man, yesterday's hairspray STINGS!!]with engines roaring and no way I'm going to stop.  This leaves only one option - running  them over.  It's a poor mans mulch.  The terrible part, is that running over week-old excrement that has been aged and dried as a fine wine or butcher-shop beef jerky, leaves a cloud.  A poop cloud.  A poop cloud that I am smart enough to know probably in one way or another finds a sneaky way into the air I breathe.  Ah well.....the beauty of pet ownership.  ANYWAYS, now I know this is gonna be a long and likely hot summer, but I am also aware that life is a marathon - not a sprint.  I am digging in for the long haul, and will settle for no less than victory in this most crucial of summer events - LAWN WARS.  Bring it Cliff.