DUmpmonkeys are so comically predictable!
DUmp cred would take a serious hit if they ever admitted to using a bug killer in their garden.
In poor addled grasswipe Judy Smith's case, the idea of a garden is funny.
Where does she find the patch of dirt for a garden? Some neighbor's devil strip? Dirt in the edge of the alley behind her abandoned bodega?
Poor addled grasswipe Judy's world is covered in asphalt and concrete.
There is no garden, and hasn't been since her glory days, when she was squatting in the bonus room over the garage on a former friend's "farmette".
Her kids, all six or seven generations of them, are humiliated again.