Posts tagged ‘home ownership’

November 16, 2010

Pay Yo Taxes: Not For You, but For Me.


Seal of the United States Department of the Tr...

Straight up Hustlers.

The other day I received a knock at the door and through the window I could see a man holding bright yellow papers. When I opened the door he introduced himself as a member of the Treasury Department.

First thought: Oh hell, how did Bank of America fuck up our payments now?

He began explaining to me how a certain “Evelyn” who owned the home before us owed back taxes… a lot of them. He showed me the numbers on the sheet and I nearly lost control of my bodily functions. Of course my head was swirling with panic and the desire for a lot of angry phone calls. On the sheet it said “YOU MUST PAY BY MAY 2011 OR YOU WILL LOSE YOUR HOME!!!!!!!!!”

Though I may be exaggerating the amount of exclamation points, there certainly were more in my head.

Then came the awkward conversation.

Guy: Also I need to take a picture showing that I was here. Will that be okay?
Me: (still in a state of shock) drrr dahhh darrrrrr…..
Guy: Of the house, not of you.
Me: Oh! Yeah… that’s…fine.

He then handed me the papers and parted. Frantically I began looking through the papers praying for a miracle. Then I found it.

I ran out the door, shouting for him to stop the car. I was in an over-sized Legend of Zelda hoodie and Jack Skellington PJ pants and looking like a crazy man. In my defense, I was working at home and wanted to be comfy, hardly expecting any company.

“Hey!” I shouted, “Wrong address!”

The address was 23541. My address is 23451.

CRISIS AVERTED!

Moral of the story: Pay your taxes so that you don’t give your unsuspecting neighbors heart attacks.

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September 2, 2010

Things They Don’t Tell You About Growing Up: Part 1: Your Neighbors


It taunts me with it's existance very day.

Granted, you may have heard your father complain when you were younger but you never thought you’d be in his shoes. So I’ll just tell you right now:

You will hate your neighbors.

Not all of them-that would mean that you’re an asshole and have anger issues-just a few. Thing is, you will hate them without even knowing anything remotely personal about them (such as their name). For me, I hate two of mine and I know I hate them for no good reason.

My first neighbor doesn’t actually live there. The house is up for sale. However, there is no for sale sign visible from anywhere that would make sense. This summer I saw the man twice; he showed up twice in his giant RV. How that damn thing came and went without anyone noticing is beyond me (though I bet the dark arts were involved). Now, I have nothing against him as a person. He seems fairly nice as other neighbors are actually happy to see him.

But they don’t have to deal with the shit I have to.

The house has a large backyard that comes up to my property. There is a koi pond with a bridge over it that is actually a

protected habitat. Yes, so the city and I can do nothing about the swarm of mosquitoes that arise from the 5 foot tall pond flora. While I enjoy the sound that the toads make at night, the bugs that attack me for it ruin the mood.

But I would forgive the man if that was all. You see, in his nice large yard, closest to me is a half-finished gazebo. That’s right. A fucking gazebo. The half finished piece of crap reminds of it’s existence everyday since my windows open up directly to it. The railing on the outside of it is made of left over white plastic fencing that outlines the rest of the property. The rest of the gazebo is wood. Yes, it sticks out as much as you think shiny white plastic would stick out on a wood construction. My eyes beg my hands to gouge them out every morning. If it’s ugly frame weren’t enough, in it’s poorly made bottom covering lives a nasty opossum that has ripped open my garbage cans from the side. The side! Usually critters of that type knock over trash cans, but not this little fucker! He rips open the side and feasts on my trash.

Photograph of the common opossum

Go to hell and leave my trash alone.

The duck-tape I have applied on my trash can is yet another constant remainder of why I hate my neighbor. On trash day it’s also a “I hate all of you because you like him” badge.

Then there’s the neighbor behind me. I’ve been meaning to clear a bunch of trees out of my backyard but I haven’t for two simple reasons: I don’t want to subject my neighbors to my work-in-progress backyard and because I don’t want to subject myself to their immaculate gardens. This one guy in particular has created a soft, gentle hill where there are two koi ponds that are connected by a waterfall that has (wait for it) LED lights in it. How the hell am I supposed to compete with that? Really? Asshole.

So on quiet nights, I can hear the smooth running water from his yard that are really saying, “my yard is better than yours.”

I am going to build a privacy fence around my entire property and lob Molotov cocktails at that damn gazebo. Take that Mr. Possum.

July 26, 2010

Finding the Perfect House Part III: Part 1: Buying the Perfect House


(Where’s part one? Not sure, but I did get a phone call from her a few days ago. She said something about being in Reno. I think she was drunk dialing me from a party.)

After living at the House on Silent Hill for longer than I should have, my fiance and I moved in with her brother Mark. If this post counts as the Return of the Jedi, then what happened at Mark’s totally counts as a Shadows of the Empire section. Naked wampas and all.

Aw, isn't that bloodthirsty creature just adorable?

So anyway, jumping ahead to the end of our year at Mark’s, my fiance and I decided we had to get our own place. We began looking at ads for apartments but kept coming to the conclusion that they were either too expensive or too trashy (or sometimes both). Those in the middle wouldn’t allow us to bring cats. Someone, might’ve been my mother, then brought up looking for a house, adding that if we couldn’t get a home loan ourselves, they’d buy it and we’d rent it from them. Cool beans huh?

Well, turns out we could get a home loan. By we, of course, I meant my fiance. Apparently having a good, steady job and excellent credit does come in handy. And here I thought she was just wasting money with that credit card of hers. We ended up searching for homes in the same neighborhood as the House on Silent Hill since we really did like the neighborhood. Rather quickly we found a house that we both liked (not having black mold everywhere kinda helped) and we put a bid in on it.

Then they counter bid.

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