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OK, so I've been awake since around 4AM. After falling asleep around 12:30AM. It's been a long, long, fucking long day of shopping and cleaning and running around to get the house ready for the showing that was scheduled to take place between 5 and 6PM. But more on that later.
Right now, I want to shoot our back neighbor. Some of you have been here to visit, and you know how close together these houses are. This idiot might as well be living in my closet. At least then I could smother him with a lovely-colored summer blouse. Maybe in hot pink. No, black. In case he starts to bleed from the eyes and mouth. Yes. Definitely black.
This fuckwad is into karaoke. On his deck. With a microphone. Because yeah, I want him for all intents and purposes to be standing at the bottom of my fucking bed! and shouting bad rock and roll at me. Louder! Louder, fuckwad! My eardrums aren't punctured yet! LOUDER! Hey, do you know this one? It's sung to the tune of "If I Had a Hammer".
If I had a magnum,
I'd shoot it in the morning.
I'd shoot it in the evening,
all over your ass.
It's the magnum of justice,
It's the magnum of freeeeeeedom,
It's the magnum of me getting
to shoot your off-key ass
all over this laaaaaaaaaaaand!
Thank you. Thank you very much.
So yeah, the viewees showed up at 6:20, just as I was walking around the house blowing out candles and turning off our gazillion lights. Maddie and I hightailed it out to the backyard so they could go through the house without having to worry about offending us or anything. And the upshot? The agent said, and I quote, "They were overwhelmed. There were too many rooms." Did you not read the damn listing before you brought them over?? Did they not quite get the concept of seven bedrooms meaning the place would be just a tad larger than a crackerbox? And then! Then - after spending a whole 10 minutes in the house (apparently quaking in fear of the vast expanse [perhaps future ads should screen for agoraphobics?]), they proceed to take up fucking homesteading in the driveway for another 25 minutes! I'm not kidding. Yak, yak, yak. I saw the agent take out a map at one point. Helloooooooo. Private driveway there. And a pretty big one. Ooooooh, scary. Run away now, like nice little wussies. No, really. Run away. Now!
And that brings me to, well, now. Wanting to sleep so very, very much. And yet hindered because I am also at the moment so very, very homicidal. Surely you can see my dilemma?
Baileys. And earplugs. And then to bed to dream of Dirty Harry singing karaoke, no doubt.
Fuckwad.
Right now, I want to shoot our back neighbor. Some of you have been here to visit, and you know how close together these houses are. This idiot might as well be living in my closet. At least then I could smother him with a lovely-colored summer blouse. Maybe in hot pink. No, black. In case he starts to bleed from the eyes and mouth. Yes. Definitely black.
This fuckwad is into karaoke. On his deck. With a microphone. Because yeah, I want him for all intents and purposes to be standing at the bottom of my fucking bed! and shouting bad rock and roll at me. Louder! Louder, fuckwad! My eardrums aren't punctured yet! LOUDER! Hey, do you know this one? It's sung to the tune of "If I Had a Hammer".
If I had a magnum,
I'd shoot it in the morning.
I'd shoot it in the evening,
all over your ass.
It's the magnum of justice,
It's the magnum of freeeeeeedom,
It's the magnum of me getting
to shoot your off-key ass
all over this laaaaaaaaaaaand!
Thank you. Thank you very much.
So yeah, the viewees showed up at 6:20, just as I was walking around the house blowing out candles and turning off our gazillion lights. Maddie and I hightailed it out to the backyard so they could go through the house without having to worry about offending us or anything. And the upshot? The agent said, and I quote, "They were overwhelmed. There were too many rooms." Did you not read the damn listing before you brought them over?? Did they not quite get the concept of seven bedrooms meaning the place would be just a tad larger than a crackerbox? And then! Then - after spending a whole 10 minutes in the house (apparently quaking in fear of the vast expanse [perhaps future ads should screen for agoraphobics?]), they proceed to take up fucking homesteading in the driveway for another 25 minutes! I'm not kidding. Yak, yak, yak. I saw the agent take out a map at one point. Helloooooooo. Private driveway there. And a pretty big one. Ooooooh, scary. Run away now, like nice little wussies. No, really. Run away. Now!
And that brings me to, well, now. Wanting to sleep so very, very much. And yet hindered because I am also at the moment so very, very homicidal. Surely you can see my dilemma?
Baileys. And earplugs. And then to bed to dream of Dirty Harry singing karaoke, no doubt.
Fuckwad.
no subject
2005-09-18 03:24 (UTC)That's psychotic. Call the police.
no subject
2005-09-19 02:32 (UTC)no subject
2005-09-18 03:52 (UTC)That's just so wrong. Karaoke is bad enough in a bar, but in a back yard?
It's definitely time to complain.
no subject
2005-09-19 02:33 (UTC)Idiot.
no subject
2005-09-18 11:32 (UTC)*smites the idiot agent and his stupid clients for good measure*
no subject
2005-09-19 02:33 (UTC)Thanks, Mothie :)
no subject
2005-09-19 03:10 (UTC)What did you think that she was smiting them with? ;)
no subject
2005-09-18 17:40 (UTC)no subject
2005-09-19 02:34 (UTC)no subject
2005-09-18 22:56 (UTC)no subject
2005-09-19 02:35 (UTC)