October 31, 2010

Adult Scares For Halloween

Like most people our age, Jan and I are starting to contemplate retirement.  In fact, Jan has already turned in her retirement notice at her school district and will call the Spring of 2012 her last as a full time teacher.  I'll probably call it quits at that time too.

So, we're starting to seriously consider a move south (no, not Florida ... no, not Arizona) because we really have no desire to spend our final years in Northern Illinois.  In fact, not a week goes by that one of us doesn't blurt out a sentence such as "I can't wait to leave this horse shit area".

But moving to another area means buying another home. And, of course, that means selling this one.  Unless you've been living under a rock for the last three years, you're probably well aware that this isn't the easy-peasey proposition that it used to be at one time.

Keeping this in mind, we've spent the last year making careful improvements to the inside and outside of our house, always considering the cost versus benefit of the work we have done.  I figure that by the time we're ready to put the house on the market, we'll have done everything we need to do to have it in selling shape.  In fact, I've planned one last item that I'll plant in the front yard when the "For Sale" sign goes up.  Kind of a sales coup de theatre, if you will ...

No One Can Resist Wavy Inflatable Guy!

However, most tip-top real estate agents, like HGTV's Sandra Rinomato (does anyone else find this woman incredibly hot?), will tell you that your physical abode isn't the only factor in selling.  It's also "neigborhood, neighborhood, neighborhood".  If the neighborhood is shit, then you can  have the Taj Mahal sitting there and it still won't move.

The Only Reason I Watch "Property Virgins"

It was only fitting that on this All Hallows Eve morning that I walk out on my driveway and observe the following next door.  A sight to truly chill any prospective home sellers shit down to it's very core ...

(click on picture for extra-horrifying effect)

I don't think an army of Wavy Inflatable Guys can overcome this gruesome sight ... "Hillbilly Ron's House of Horrors and  Lowered Property Values".  The stuff of nightmares.

I wonder where I could find a discrete arsonist?


  1. Hmm ... how about a fence? A big tall fence?

    There's a house a few doors down from me that looks like it belongs in flippin' Shantytown. I'm hoping they sell before I do, and somebody buys it and fixes it up.

    Neighbors are always a crapshoot ...

  2. Yeah, I guess I could have had a motorcycle gang move in there.