Sturdley's Magical Mystical Blog

Musings on life, liberty, and the pursuit of derpiness.

Tag Archives: lawn nazi

Tales of the Lawn Nazi

You might have heard mention once before of the lawn nazi.  I will admit the man is meticulous, but that is entirely unrelated to tonight’s little distraction.  A bit of necessary background: the lawn nazi is surrounded on two sides by driveways, one to his house, the other to the neighbors behind me in addition to the back door to the lawn nazi’s garage.  That’s right, both his and his neighbor’s driveways actually go to his house/property.  This bit will be important later.

Tonight the lawn nazi ordered pizza.  I know this because just outside my desk window is the aforementioned rear-lot neighbor’s driveway and just beyond, Mr. Nazi’s house.  The pizza dude (clearly a high school student of average everyness) made the dastardly mistake of pulling into rear-lot neighbor’s driveway.  As he was getting out of the beat-up old pile he drove up in, I hear Mr. Nazi yelling from his front porch, “you’re in the wrong driveway.”  Pizza dude responded with something unintelligible, possibly because he had just scarfed one of Mr. Nazi’s breadsticks*, then proceeds to walk across the lawn to the front door of the clearly appropriate house.  I go back to my computer assuming the show is over.

Mere moments later I hear raised voices.  Quickly muting the perfectly cromulent light classical background music, I am just in time to hear pizza dude’s raised voice saying, “so you want me to move my car and waste my gas?!?”  The response was muffled by dense cedar foliage, but it was all too clear the answer was a resounding, “Fuck, YES!”  Pizza dude strode angrily across the lawn, empty thermal food luggage in one hand, two boxes of pizza in the other.  He entered his vehicle, reversed gear, backed out of the driveway, and drove 100 feet down the road to the next driveway.  Alas, the shining white visage of Mr. Nazi’s impeccably clean siding, and presumably equally clean inner house-guts, blocked all but a single brief muffled shout.

Pizza dude backed out of the driveway, clearly defeated.  He backed down the street to the front-center of Mr. Nazi’s house, I assume to capture the picture as a warning to his colleagues.

All this because the pizza guy had the “wrong” driveway, a driveway that technically enters the property of the entirely douche-tastic lawn nazi.  Yes, this really just happened.


*This is an entirely unfounded guess based entirely on the pizza dude’s sketchy appearance and clear fondness of junky foodstuffs.  No actual ganking of breadsticks was observed.