HOAs. Bloody freaking HOAs. Once upon a time, when everything was cheap, the climate wasn't boiling away our water supply, and our weekends weren't disturbed by asshole bosses, maintaining a lawn was relatively easy and rewarding. Now it's become such an entrenched part of suburban life that we've created suicide pacts to make sure our neighbors keep their yards looking 'normal,' and of course they're making sure ours is as well.

I'd wind up with an acre of goat heads. No thanks. Even with mowing and dragging a carpet behind the tractor our dogs still track them in for us to step on on the way to the bathroom at 3AM.