Mowing Never Looked So Good

It’s been raining on and off all day today, which might make some people feel melancholy. Not me, though; in fact, I welcome it.

You see, if it were sunny right now, I might be forced to confront my lawn’s need to be mowed, a need that does not mix well with my inherent disdain for yardwork. True, this disdain is completely justified because anyone who tells you before you buy a house that tending to the vegetation that surrounds it is actually enjoyable is lying, probably because he or she owns stock in John Deere or black Hefty garbage bags. Nevertheless, the work has to get done.

If only a pioneering pharmaceutical company would get crackin’ on this. I’ll even write the commercial now if that will get the ball rolling.

Mowing your lawn after a long day of work is the last thing you want to do.

Why? You’re probably just lazy.

But there’s a chance you’re suffering from a more serious condition—Sit On your Fat Ass-itis, also known as SOFA.

If that’s the case, try new once-a-day Nagyou, the only pill proven to convince you there’s some sort of gratification to be had in weed-wacking along your fence line.

With Nagyou, your neighbors will no longer have the chance to ask why your grass is getting so long because you’ll be attending to its every need, on its schedule, the way nature intended.

Only Dr. Oz can tell if you have SOFA; however, we know a guy who will write a prescription for just about anybody.

Don’t take Nagyou if you have a history of driving, standing, sitting, laying, lying, eating, breathing, or buying clothing ill-suited to your body type.

Side effects may include involuntary disapparation and other Harry Potter references.

Don’t attempt to speak while on Nagyou, as this may cause an unsafe lightning strike to your face and/or mailbox.

In rare instances, people taking Nagyou have become Emperor Penguins and migrated to Antarctica. If this happens, watch out for the Orcas.

Why Nagyou? Because MTV 2 has a My Super Sweet 16 marathon starting in five.


  1. Joshua

    My dad has this theory that grass is actually the most evolved form of life on the planet. That it has tricked us into becoming its slaves. Think about it, whole industries dedicated to the maintenance and preservation of grass. Armies of men, set upon the countryside each morning, armed with mowers, clippers, and edgers; toting bags of seed, fertilizer, and pesticide. Their sole purpose, that the lawns, ballparks, golf courses and office parks of America have shimmering, green, healthy, grass. Virtual oceans expended to provide it nourishment. All the while the grass sits there, doing nothing to justify or acknowledge the efforts on its behalf; a cruel sovereign indeed.

  2. Ted

    Be careful … you're coming dangerously close to being too articulate for the dining room office.

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