Thursday, March 29, 2007

What's the Frequency, Kenneth?

Last week, signs suddenly appeared on two houses across the street from each other. These corner homes are at the major intersection before the kids’ school. Of course, I’ve seen those types of signs before, but they’ve always been on houses that have been for sale. These houses are not.

Easily lured na├»ve person that I am, I ended up actually turning to the crackling AM station the sign indicated. And there’s this Realtor® babbling on about how she can post these signs at your house when you list it with her for sale. And she’s even just as happy to help you buy a home.

Happy, happy, happy.

I’ve got a better idea. Here’s the trash talkin’ house I want to hear:

“Dude, you call that thing a ride? I’d be ashamed to have my grandma driving that piece of crap car.”

“Hey, is that woman your mama? Well, I’d love to do her. You know what they say, ‘The bigger the cushion…’”

“Oh. My. Gawd. You’re not really wearing that hideous shirt to school are you? You know, you’re just asking to get beat up.”

“Your mama is the ugliest horse ever ridden.”

Now you're talking, house! I wonder how long it would be before my house got torched if it talked like that?

[If you're not sure what the title of this post means, read all about Dan Rather’s long-ago encounter with a nut case loony mentally unbalanced gent on the streets of New York. It’s a story that always brings a smile to my face. Just because it tickles my fancy. Click here.]

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