…to look at a house. Not to buy it, mind you. But to gawk at it—like some depraved real estate voyeur.
I am Alain Robbe-Grillet with a working knowledge of debt-to-income ratio and a secret lust for well-made screen doors. Pray for my soul.
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Oh Come on Jeff, don’t feel ashamed. You know they want it. So open, so inviting…..sometimes they even have their, I mean some, cookies out…..
Hussies
That’s what made this country great, buying things we don’t need with money we don’t have.
God Bless America! And MasterCard! And free realtor cookies!
Don’t forget to tell us all about the screen door. I am certain the moment you disrupt your descriptive musing with an eruption of atemporal relative high-school catchment area analysis will open all our eyes to the “tristesse” of real-estate voyeurism.
Does the new one have jalousies?
Maybe it’s just envious. Ba da BOOM!
I’m here all weekend, enjoy your brunch…
Go with God, my son.
“Pray for my soul”.
Okay, how about tres Santa Maria?
Heh. I did the same thing today.
With a name like Robb-Grillet, I would’ve thought your preference would be for French Doors.
Your wanderlust to Longmont has me thinking a larger abode may be just what the doctor ordered.
That… and PIE!
Screw the debt to income ratios. They’re only numbers, baby. Spend it like you got it!
After all, you are a CITIZEN JOURNALIST with your own national radio program.
Oh! Move to Longmont! You’d be my neighbor!!!!!
Wheeeee!
Turing word: country. As in “You’s up in cow-poke country now, boy-ah.”
Arghg. I suck at oetomotopaeaic spelling.
That’s “bow-ah”, not “boy-ah”.
Come to think of it, I actually probably suck at spelling oetomotopaea.
willow, you got that right
I think oetomotopaea refers to an uncontrollable urge to ingest a cell phone.
Uh uh, Gail. It’s what someone who’s really drunk says when he has to go to the bathroom.
I go to all the open houses on Sunday because so many of the lady realtors are hot.
And they drive nice cars.
And they were short skirts.
And sometimes, sometimes, they let you eat their cookies for free.
So, that’s a good thing right there. Really good.
It is amazing how many realtors are MILF’s, isn’t it?
i must have missed that when i was looking for a house.
Jeff spotted me on my laptop, here at the Denver Press Club and asked me if I was blogging the RMBB. He assured me that doing so was “goofy”. I wasn’t actually blogging about the event until he said so.
He is right of course.
Man, that must be one big house!
What happens in Longmont stays in Longmont . . .
Sadly, the house had no yard. Which, when you have a dog, is a deal breaker.
Did you remember to sign the guestbook as “Art Vandelay”?
– A guest signiture of “James Trump” would be s bit more functional. I mean lets face it. How many realtors really know for sure He doesn’t have a brother named James. That might put a left slice into those ‘ole debt to income ratios in your dierection a bit. Then you could add to the effect by casually mentioning you didn’t care for any cookies thank you very much, you’ve just eaten lunch at an upscale restaurant like White Castle or some such….
If you want to get really artsy fartsy about it you could blurt out something oetomotopaea like by bow-wowing like a dog, and biting her ankle. But that might be overkill….
My Dad just vacated a parsonage, which you could probably move into if you were willing to become a Lutheran pastor.
just take a picture. it’ll last longer witthout maintenance and it’s waaay less expensive