*flipping through better homes and gardens* photoshopped, photoshopped, photoshopped


"hey, The Smithsonian? I accidentally de-evolved a cucumber into a wild cucumber. it's hanging from the track lighting in my den and screeching at the tops of its lungs. Oh, why in God's name would I do something like that, you ask? Pfft. That's pretty ironic, coming from an organization that wouldn't stop using "squaw" well into the 21st centur- Hello? Hello??"

Twenty Four

*A bunch of unkept gravel littering the front of my house*

"Hey, don't judge my rock garden"

Gone Fashing

its probably hard for you to understand, but i was reading at a college level from age 6 and as a result can appreciate the subtlety of dirt's earth tones without needing to muddle it up with "pretty" flowers


Dear Editors,

Regarding the September 27 editorial "cda's Garden Looks Like Shit," I would like to point out that your description of my rhododendrons as "a travesty" and my ivy patch as a "horticultural abortion," fails to consider the possibility that I want them to look like that, and that the hazardous nature and frankly repulsive appearance of my garden is an intentional act to scare away any butterflies, of which I am intensely afraid. I have given permission to my doctor to release all pertinent medical records should you wish to confirm my rare and tragic phobia, which only a garden that looks like shit can assuage. Please do not delay; the psychological damage of your sulfurous broadside grows by the hour, and though my ragwort grows almost as fast, it can only protect me from the fluttering menace, and not from the more pedestrian, but no less harmful, depredations of my fellow man.

I await your retraction.

I remain,


I prefer "compost heap" versus your judgemental "pile of shit" but if you want to criticize my ability to plan ahead for a lush form of future organic sustenance while you gloat about that scraggled plot of barren land you tout as a "victory garden" then you do you.


I tossed random handfuls of seeds all over the ground and dumped a six pack of beer over them for nourishment. And then I left it to the bird and squirrels to sort out, so blame them if you don't like it.


i stopped mowing my lawn to let my pumpkins grow in peace. halloween is coming up and I don't need troublemakers smashing my pumpkins, let alone comment on what they think makes a garden look "good"

The X-man cometh

I'm just running a long term experiment on the probability that a yard will spontaneously self-organize into a garden. 2 years in, no results yet.


the japanese call it "wabi sabi" and it means letting a garden do whatever it wants


i sip my morning soylent as the mist filters through the dense mat of grasses and wildflowers that surround the abandoned cars in my backyard. a family of gophers chew through the chicken wire fencing i erected 5 years ago, somehow ignorant that the entire southern wall collapsed after a bunch of deer fucked on it. they trundle fatly up to the rotted, collapsing wood frames of my raised beds, and tenderly nibble the fungal growth springing from the perpetually damp, thoroughly pressure-treated wood.
"maybe they'll get poisoned and die." I muse, blowing the steam off of my hot mug of soylent. "maybe we'll all die."

– David "g0m" Dolan (@g0m)

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