I live in a 9-bedroom farmhouse. I have my own crossbow range. It’s the perfect situation for me, although two bathrooms would have been nice. We just have the one…and it’s under the porch.

So I went to look at houses today. Oh boy. Yeah, see, I don’t think that I want to get a house that has had the appliances literally ripped out of the kitchen. I mean ripped out: lights, fridge, stove, dishwasher. Everything but the kitchen sink. There is a joke in there somewhere, but I am not drunk enough to figure out what it is.
Randy Newmann once sang that short people have no reason to live. In similar vein, I do think that short sales have no reason to be on the list of houses I look at. Why is it called a short sale? It takes twice as long and can end up with you losing the house anyway. It’s like calling a huge stretch of ice and rock, I don’t know, Greenland, or like saying that you had to deal with Russia because you share a strait. Both things misrepresent reality to tease you into false hopes. If I wanted that, I would root for the Dolphins this season. And that would be simply silly.
I did see some nice houses near our price point, more or less. 3 or 4 bedrooms, 2 and half baths, extra room for my office or M.’s play area. I look forward to exploring the area and the neighborhoods in the next few weeks. Ultimately, I would love to have a place in process by the end of next month. I love the folks I am staying with, but I need my heart and soul here with me. Skype is great, but it just isn’t the same. And sometimes you dial the wrong number and see things you shouldn’t, and that is just wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

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