So 2025 has been terrific, and as spring approaches, I’m thinking big. Bold. Trump-y, even. This year, I’m not just gardening. I’m negotiating with nature and closing deals with the soil. I am definitely making my backyard great again. Other gardens? Total disasters. But mine? The best. Believe me.
For starters, when planting tomatoes, I always start big. Only losers start small. My other gardens? Disasters. But this one? The best. I’m working on annexing parts of the front yard for my corn. I will also finish building that trellis border that will keep my dogs out so they don’t dig up seedlings and my food will grow aay-lot.
My house’s previous owner? The worst in history. The weeds were a total disaster. Nobody’s seen anything like it. Dandelions still show up uninvited, no work ethic, just freeloading off my meticulously seeded lawn. Sad. And don’t even get me started on Bermudagrass. People say you can’t control it. Wrong. When you’re as good at growing as I am, you can convince the weeds to leave, and they will be happy to go. People will think I live on a golf course. I know it. You know it. Everybody knows it.
That’s why I’m making aerating great again and we’re going to have the thickest, greenest grass in the neighborhood. Other yards? Sad. Patchy. Weak. But mine? Pristine. More well-maintained than a Buc-ee’s bathroom. And when it comes to lawn maintenance, I’m implementing only the best strategies — big moves, tremendous deals.
First of all, if my mower doesn’t cut at peak efficiency — weak, slow, or struggles uphill — it’s out. Fired. I’m only bringing in top-tier, gas-powered, big-engine mowers that make lawns great again.
Also, I always make great deals for pollinators, and I will unleash only the best, most nectar-first flowers for them by early summer. The most luxurious blooms you’ve ever seen because, frankly, my whole planting season will be about winning.
You will never see such growing like in my backyard. Real winners—to attract the best pollinators. Bees? They’ll be lined up like it’s Chick-fil-A on free-nugget Saturday. Hummingbirds? Shimmers everywhere. They’ll say, “Wow, this garden is terrific.” Other yards? No shimmers. Sad.
My neighbor, Alan, has thoughts. He is next level — burning the candle at both ends with a flamethrower. He has a lot of money and is very hard core. He’s dark mulcha. He told me, “If a plant can’t innovate, adapt, and thrive in Texas conditions, it doesn’t belong here. This isn’t a charity. My garden will be a hyper-optimized, multi-plot, agricultural powerhouse.”
Very inspirational. He even got me to try composting, but that was a disaster. Thought I’d save the planet, be a hero. Worst decision in history. A total disaster. It smelled like failure mixed with regret, and raccoons held nightly raves. Not good.
Look, I run a tight operation here. This lawn? It’s well-maintained. It’s thriving. And I’m not about to let raccoons waltz in and take advantage of my hard work. That’s why I’ve implemented strong hedge line security — only the best critters get through. Butterflies? Welcome. Hummingbirds? VIP status. But grubs, fire ants, and those freeloading aphids? Insect Control Enforcement is on the job 24/7. No weak spots. No open fence lines. I’ve got a wall of marigolds so strong, even the most determined pests won’t cross it. Other lawns? Total disasters. No enforcement. No plan. Just wastelands overrun by crabgrass and gophers. It’s very sad. But my lawn? Thriving. Winning. The best.
Texas drought? Look, I know water. I know water better than anyone. Other lawns? They suffer. They struggle. They whine about rain shortages. Sad. But my lawn? I’ve got strategic irrigation, smart watering schedules, and rain barrel investments that frankly, put the neighbors to shame. I’m bringing so much water, my plants are going to beg me to stop.
But once the deals are sealed, the weeds are fired, and my garden is huge — bursting with the best, most amazing flowers and vegetables you’ve ever seen — it’ll be time to sit back and enjoy the fruits of my labor. Literally.
I’m talking fresh, winning food straight from the garden to the plate. I’m telling you, we will grill, baby, grill, because nothing says success like char marks on homegrown corn on the cob. Frankly, it’s going to be the greatest backyard feast in history. Believe me.