Aug 23, 2013

Inspector Gadget

Happy Friday ya'll!
Hope everyone will be attempting to take advantage  of something outdoors-y this weekend. Even if it's just drankin' on your porch! 

Last night I slept like a boss.
I am a rather light sleeper, but when the alarm went off this morning, dreams of Mr. Tatum were still fluttering in my brain.

So what's new on the homefront?

We got our appraisal back on the new home and everything is still coming up Millhouse with that one.

The potential buyer of our new home had his inspection last night.

It was the night I have been dreading for weeks. It's the event that tears apart all the good you have put into the house you live in, and you hope! You just hope everyone else thinks it is good enough to move into.
So needless to say, I was forced to get my ass up early, into work early, to leave early, to help wrangle our circus animals out of the house so people could judge and nitpick at our humble abode.
Inspection was set to start at 5:30pm and I got home at 5:10. Of course! The inspector is already milling around. I introduce myself and let him know my husband should be inside, and that we are on our way out.

"I wrang the doorbell, doesn't it work?"
( it doesn't, can we get marked for that? Fuck .....what do I say? Think TBag!)

"Oh....maybe he is in the backyard. The dogs get all amped up hearing the doorbell. We will be out of your way in a few minutes," I run inside and lock him out.

Quick! Change clothes! Pack food and wine! Lots of wine! Clean up dog hair!
Dust and spot Windex all the things!

Leashes and collars on dogs. Bayou has Cat in his arms. We both exit different sides of the house, take separate cars and are planning to meet at his shop to camp out until it's over.

I am in charge of the dogs and wine (obviously). The dogs use their manners and trample each other to get out the door first, snotting and slobbering along the way.
I am yelling to them, "stop acting like a god damn fool!" only to look up and see the buyer sitting in his car.
Pull it together TBag!
I struggle to lift my 80 pound fat lard dog into the back seat and am attempting to calm down the neurotic little one in the front seat. He is wheezing and gasping for air like a retarded dragon on crack.
And we are off!
Carefully backing out into the street and narrowly avoiding the buyers car, I pause for a second to get a better view.
Oh yes......this kid is roughly 25.... maybe 26... no wonder he swooned over our hottub and bar!
This home will forever be a bachelor pad.

So....the good news is that we are still showing the house until the inspection report comes back and we do have another interested party.
Regardless of what the report says, Bayou and I have decided that unless a portion of our home is going to spontaneously combust and must be fixed pronto, we are exercising our right to not pay for anything.
Remember the whole thing about how we aren't making a dime off this house?
Yea, the buyer can go fuck himself, in the nicest way possible.
We really don't think there are going to be any issues, but what better way to get used to being a homeowner than to dump all your fun money into renovations?

That's all for today folks.

More home updates to follow.

TBag. Out