Here in Queens, New York, homeowners have interesting takes on what constitutes a front yard. For those who prefer real grass, there's this abbreviated option, also known as the Brazilian wax style or the Hitler.
It saves time when yelling to get the kids/dogs/crackheads off the lawn. There just isn't that much to get trampled and peed on.
Then there's the low-maintenance concrete garden below. Don't be fooled by the bright green near the door. That's not grass: it's Astro-turf. The graffiti in front is a classy touch, no?
(By the way, isn't "Concrete Garden" a tune by Elton John? If I ever get famous, I hope I die and Sir Elton changes the words to his own song to capitalize on my tragic demise.)
Seriously, though, I think Jimmy Hoffa might be buried under there.
Labels: Astoria landscaping, Concrete, Elton John, Graffiti, Hitler, humor, Jimmy Hoffa, kathcom, Lawn, magick sandwich, New York, Queens
(By the way, isn't "Concrete Garden" a tune by Elton John? If I ever get famous, I hope I die and Sir Elton changes the words to his own song to capitalize on my tragic demise.)