The lady on CNN said it was a buyers market. And CNN never lies…or spends too much time covering the questionable deaths of celebrities or dogs who sound like they are talking when they bark. Which is actually pretty awesome.

Tweet

I got home at midnight Monday night.

I was woozy from beer, steak, pasta salad, and cake.  Lots of cake.

I couldn’t even drive myself.

I mean, I could’ve, but I had to unzip my pants and recline my seat to function properly, and I am always super afraid a truck driver is going to drive up next to me and think I am masturbating or something, and then, like, get on his radio and tell all his other trucker friends, and then a policeman would get word of it, track me down, and arrest me for driving while masturbating, even though I totally wasn’t.

I can’t masturbate at home with three kids around, I sure as shit can’t do it in the car with Finding Nemo blaring from the back seats.

Stupid trucker peeping toms.

So, in an effort to save everyone a whole lot of paperwork and bond money, I didn’t drive, and instead, unhooked my bra and my jeans and sang Journey in the passenger seat.

Anyways, when we got home, I noticed my neighbors had a For Sale sign in their yard.

First of all, YAY!  They weren’t very nice to us, and I am pretty sure they were poisoning squirrels, because there were always dead ones in their front yard, and then they’d disappear by the afternoon, so they were probably eating them.  Like squirrel eating vampires, only not the good (read: I would have sex with you) kind of vampires.

You know, now that I think of it, I think they were just dead squirrel eating creep faces, and not vampires at all, because they totally didn’t glitter in the sunlight or move at super human speed.

But, the down side is, um…oh my god, I totally had something in mind here, but I lost it when I started to think about vampire sex.

I totally lost my train of thought…and why is my hand in my pants?

Mmm…is someone making popcorn?

Ok, so anyways, yes.  They are moving.

Thus opening the door for someone awesome to be my new neighbor.

And, here’s the thing…I am pretty much the best neighbor ever, you should totally want to live next to me.

1.  You won’t be bugged by any ass face religion peddlers.  I have pretty much scared the last of them away when I answer the door breastfeeding and drinking lamb’s blood.  Which is also why the Schwann’s guy and frozen meat salesman don’t come ’round here anymore, either.  Oh, and the scrawny boy who used to rake our leaves.

2.  I will tolerate your annoying kids and your dog to your face, and only talk shit about you to my husband in the bathroom while he is trying to take a shower because I believe the shower fog cleanses me of being a huge cunt face.

3.  I work from home, so if you want to, like, come hang out and eat hot pockets and watch Dr. Phil all day, I can so totally do that with minimal notice.

4.  I have no communicable diseases.

5.  If your house get toilet papered, I won’t help you clean it up, because I don’t like to touch it, but I will totally tell you who did it, because I am, like, the best neighborhood watcher, ever.  Which is the only reason I know that my neighbor across the street is the football coach, and not some pedophile who lures muscular teenage boys over to his home for sex…as I may have previously reported.

WAIT!

I totally remembered the bad reason about why my neighbors house is for sale!

It’s for sale by owner, so I can’t get online and see what their house looks like inside or how much it’s selling for.

I knew there was something about this whole situation that pissed me off.

How can I spy on you and judge you if you don’t put pictures of how you live on the internet!?

Jesus Christ lady, you’re so two thousand and late.

I always wanted to use that phrase in a sentence (bucket list….check!).

So, in closing.  Real estate gem? now available.

I highly doubt the purple wooden wishing well they have in their front yard is a permanent fixture.

Let’s just all keep an open mind about things.

Please line up to put in an offer in an orderly fashion.

Women skinnier than me, with bigger boobs, and don’t jiggle anywhere when they run, need not apply…unless you are bulimic, because then we can still totally pig out together.

P.S. You can also find out why I walk around my house in just a bib and underwear over at Aiming Low this week.  You’re welcome.