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Homeowners associations are like the unofficial referees of the neighborhood. If your grass is an inch too tall, they blow the whistle, and suddenly you're in a suburban soccer match you didn't sign up for.
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Joining a homeowners association is like signing a contract to become a landscaping detective. Suddenly, you're inspecting your neighbor's hedges, trying to solve the mystery of the overgrown topiary.
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Homeowners associations are like the neighborhood's version of the FBI. They know everything about everyone. I half-expect them to have a file on me, rating my barbecue skills and judging my choice of outdoor furniture.
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Homeowners associations have the power to make you feel like a rebel for the smallest infractions. I got a citation for using a non-regulation garden hose. I didn't know there was a black market for garden equipment. I thought hoses were all the same – just different shades of green!
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I joined a homeowners association once. I didn't realize it was more of a social club with a side of lawn care enforcement. It's like, "Sure, we'll discuss your shrubbery, but first, how about a potluck dinner?
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Have you ever tried to sneak in an unapproved paint color for your front door? It's like being in a spy movie. You tiptoe to the hardware store, grab the contraband paint, and then execute the covert operation under the cover of darkness. Mission: Teal Door – success!
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In a homeowners association, the trash bins are like celebrities. They have to adhere to a strict schedule, and if they miss their appearance on the curb, the neighbors start gossiping about their unreliable nature. "Did you hear? The Johnsons' trash bin was a no-show again!
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Homeowners associations are the only place where you can be judged for the curvature of your mailbox. I never realized how critical it was to have a mailbox that conforms to societal expectations until I got a passive-aggressive postcard about it.
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You know you're in a serious homeowners association when you get a warning letter for having a slightly rebellious daffodil in your front yard. I didn't know flowers could be rebels; I thought they were all about peace and petals.
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