Let Me Tell You...

Howdy.

Ok, so after my rant the other day, I have decided to bring it down and really tell you about Foreign Land.  I was/am not a person of direct order.  Am I rebellious and a trouble maker?  No.  Do I not enjoy procedure and complete organization?  Yes.  This plays a major role in why I do not like it here.  Let us begin.

Each house in this neighborhood looks exactly the same.  As if they all popped out of a shoot from the sky after being constructed in some factory by underpaid employees in horrible living conditions that all work with two left hands.

The three shades of paint that all houses have are: Grey, Beige, and White.  Usually in that order.

All houses have one tree in the front yard, and two in the back.

The houses are all so close together that if I were to look out my window right now, I would see my lovely neighbors sleeping in their bed.  (I always have my curtains closed)

The grass's cut in all front lawns are the same size.

Each house has one two car garage door.

No cars can be parked on the curb on the left side of the street.

You know that Jackson Pollock painting with all splatters and dripping of paint?

That is what I would like to do to this neighborhood.  Add some color and creativity.  I would love Banksy to show up and art this place up!  Art is a huge part of my life and this bland, decorativless (I know it's not a word) lifestyle is not doing it for me.  I end this blog with yet another song.  I usually use this band as the punch line of some jokes, but it just feels right to use.

Better.