selling a house – f-your blog

Neighbors are a Nuisance

Its really no secret that I despise Neighbors and basically have spent a good deal of avoiding or ignoring them which has worked well for me. Neighbors are nosey, opinionated, annoying, time consuming obstacles. Neighbors serve no true purpose accept to bother you with these moronic social protocols (and social norms ) as much a humanly possible until you actually feel that your loosing your godforsaken mind.

Things unfortunately change in this case we made a geographical change moving out of the Great Southern Swamp to The Southern Country. One side effect of living here is the fact that the people here are insanely social and gossip is their bread and butter. I’m not social and I hate gossip. Lucky for me very few of our Neighbors actually live here year round so the benefit being that we only see them once in a blue moon for a few days and then their gone again for months. The house to our left is used as a family meeting/vacation spot which means their never around. The house on the right is the same story accept the people on the right their there even less which is wonderful.

Now with that said We did officially meet the couple that lives on the right of us once and I’m guessing We will never speak with them again. See heres the unfortunate events that doomed anything social between us and the Neighbors occurring ever again. We met them one afternoon when My Wife and I were hanging out on our home office’s massive front porch. The Neighbors happened to be out in their front yard doing mundanely routine lawn care crap at the same time. Eventually the Neighbors came over and introduced themselves and we introduced ourselves in return, and then proceeded to shoot the inanest of shit. After a few introductory minutes the Neighbors finally returned to their yard and life went on.

The next day I got an e-mail from our Realtor (We were selling our Great Southern Swamp vacated Offices) stating the bullshit shoppers were ready to make a real deal and I needed to contact him ASAP. Well I immediately e-mailed him, waited 4-5 minutes and then texted him followed directly with a phone call, but I couldn’t get a hold of him it was as if he just evaporated out of existence. This insane cycle goes on 8 hours or so and I still haven’t gotten a hold of him. A couple of minutes before My Wife came home I get a text from Our Realtor stating he had been called in for jury duty and had spent all day sitting down at the court house. While I was relieved to finally hear from the Realtor and to know what the hell was going on, BUT I was also pissed as a motherfucker because when he knew he had been called for jury duty he should I contacted me then and explained the situation properly.

My Wife gets home and I’m pacing the front porch like a rabid Lion at the Zoo. As soon as she sits down I erupt like a Nuclear explosion and launch into a full fledged Ranting and Raving Fit. I totally forgot where I was in reality as I ramp up more and more as I go getting a real adrenaline high from increasingly getting angrier. I spouted off all kinds of utterly screwed up statements and claims pertaining to our Realtor and the jury duty deal.

Here is an Example: (Note: When I hit lose my shit you know because every other word basically is fuck)

“E-Roc fucking e-mailed me 1st fucking thing and says we got a deal so I fucking have to fucking call him back but the son of a bitch doesn’t answer shit, not a goddamn thing! I texted the shit out of him, did no damn good, no fucking e-mails, no fucking phone calls so I’m fucking wondering what the fuck is going on since theres a sweet deal to get done quickly! Its fucking money, a good bit of fucking money and where the fuck is my Realtor, how the fuck can I get a fucking deal fucking done when I fucking can’t get a fucking hold of my motherfucking Realtor?!! When the fuck did E-Roc become an unbearable fucking asshole, he works for Us so he fucking doesn’t get a goddamn dime till we fucking sell the fucking shitty fucking old ass offices for fucks sake!!”

In the midst of this tirade I happen to suddenly realize where I am and as I turn to face my Wife I see both of our Neighbors milling around in their backyard. When our eyes met they both looked away quick as hell and then putzed around doing meaningless shit like moving the trash can from one side of the house to the other.

Thusly at this point I think its safe as safe to say we will never be speaking with them ever again as they seemed shell shocked enough by witnessing such a enraged rant laced heavily with profanity.

Oh well shit happens. I’m not losing any sleep over it I assure you my Fine Reader.

Thanks For Reading,

Les Sober

The Staff Speaks: Here is WTF is Going On

Hey good readers this is the first (and more than likely the only) time we the staff here at f-yourblog.com will be able to address you directly. Les has given us this unique opportunity due to well a few things actually. To keep things short and concise we will list WTF is Going on here in no specific order.

We are all extremely psyched with our new home offices in the southern country (which we have already named The Black Lodge), and to be out of the soul sucking great souther swamp. We have almost completely resettled and ready to get f-yourblog revered up to its fully awesome potential
We are aware Les claimed to have our operation up and running by July 15th. Les in all actuality shot a glance at a wall calendar (yes he’s that old) and went with the 1st number he saw that at the time he thought made sense. WE APOLOGIZE for this miscommunication and inconvenience.
We are also aware of the fact the Les has launched the Road Tripping with f-yourblog.com series (posting Navigator rules/regulations for example) without actually explaining wtf it is exactly. So with out further a delayed ado here it is. Road Tripping is an experimental brain child of Les’s in Gonzo-Gorilla photography and videography. The teams consist of two people the driver and the aforementioned navigator. The road trip has no designated destination or itinerary the rules are simple return on time and keep content from the road coming consistently. The pictures/video taken will not feature the usual bullshit such as standing at the grand canyon, posing by the statue of liberty, standing by a star’s star in hollyweird, no disney postcard crap, no posed pictures all subjects must remain oblivious of photographing/filming (people act fake as shit all bowing up and grinning like court jesters while posing in some cliche pose when they even see a camera, man’s natural born vanity) Bottom line: All photos/videos must be viewed through the absurdly insane artist’s eyes to see the bizarre world that they live inside the confines of their skulls.
Fuckbook (facebook) update of sorts?! The fact that fuckbook locked Les out of his accounts (Personal page and promo for f-yourblog.com) because for personal privacy Les used a pen name. Meanwhile on fuckbook live assholes and psychofucks posted murders, bragged about killing people and posted violent police chases filmed by the suspect. ANYWAY the point is fuckbook threatened to dismantle Les’s pages unless he could prove his identification in 2 weeks THEY HAVEN’T. While Les being barred currently YOU CAN STILL CHECKOUT LESS SOBER and f-yourblog.com’s PAGES for shits and giggles or to kill time while your perched on the crapper.

5. Les unfortunately still has the displeasure of selling our old home offices in the great souther swamp, and as of a phone call Friday afternoon, has been virtually unavailable. He’s had a phone attached to his ear and paces feverishly as he remedies whatever the issue is (we don’t honestly know, but Les keeps saying something about a shitty handyman who if Les ever sets eyes on again he will stab said handyman in the face repeatedly with a rusty fork?!)

6. While Les has an affinity for Twitter because its the 2nd most effective form of free promotion, and lets face it we are bout broke (we survive off a steady diet of toilet wine and sardines and saltines) WE HAVE BROUGHT TO LES’S ATTENTION that we should run the road tripping series simultaneously HERE and on twitter. Les agreed with a patented “Fuck it. Do it.” As we already have compiled over 800 photographs and a large handful of videos already we can get the series up and running tomorrow easy as a $2 crackwhore.

7. We have lost SpaceDog along the move and don’t know his current whereabouts as of late. Though Spacedog is not clocked on our radar Les assured us he has caught up with SpaceDog who was pounding Singapore Slings (like his name was Hunter S. Thompson) and killing it at the casino. We look foreward to having SpaceDog back with us as soon as he gambles himself broke

8. Lastly Les is trying to get another chief contributor by the name of Bujo to complete what he is referring to as his “3 pronged trifecta” We have absolutely no further information or details pertaining to this artistic collaboration.

Thats all we have to report now, thanks for reader’s continued support and encouragement.

sincerely the silent staff

Handyman Herb the Heinous Handyman’s Man

As my Wife and I were prepping/ repairing our little house in the Great Southern Swamp we had a list of certain handyman jobs (i.e. Hanging a Door, Patch a Wall, Replace some damaged base boards etc.) very basic tasks. Awhile back when we had a similar list we had contacted a local general handyman named Handyman Herb. Herb obviously didn’t graduate at the head of his class, but he was capable of doing elementary tasks with decent prices. So when we found ourselves in need of handyman services again we called Handyman Herb. My Wife talked to him via the phone and told him what we needed done and then scheduled for him to stop by on the coming Monday at 9:00 am.

My Wife was working that Monday leaving me to handle Herb which made me a bit wary. I have no illusions about my unruly behavior at times with other people especially if they annoy or disappoint me. Little did I know that Monday would test all of my strength to keep from going absolutely bat shit crazy on the entire known fucking world.

9:00 am Monday comes and no Handyman Herb. Twenty minutes later I have to hit up the shitter and did so as fast as possible incase Herb finally decided to show the fuck up for work. As I was walking back from the crapper my cell phone went off, it was Handyman Herb.

Now I thought Herb was calling to apologize for being late and would then give me a realistic ETA, but that wasn’t the case. Handyman Herb had brought a belligerent attitude with him, and as soon as I answered he demanded to know if someone was indeed home. Well I thought to myself your talking to me and theres a car parked out front so yeah I’m fucking here. I informed Herb that I was the only one home and I had to hit up the pisser (not to mention HE was now 30 minutes late but asshole didn’t want to talk about that shit) Herb responds by grumping like a gimp that he knocked and that he was now in fact here.

I already felt my blood pressure rising as a serious pet peeve of mine is if I’m paying you DO YOUR JOB (i.e. SHOW UP ON TIME) and BE A FUCKING PROFESSIONAL. You come to work for me leave your bullshit at the door. I instinctively started to text my Wife to channel the increasing irritation and shitty speculation of the Handyman Herb situation.

I opened the door to let Herb in (apparently he had brought a sidekick assistant who resembled a English Bulldog in both looks and mentality) as Herb entered it was BLATANTLY FUCKING OBVIOUS by the SCOWL on his face and agitated body language that this shit show had just begun. I gave the repair list containing 10 issues that needed to be addressed/remedied hoping at this point that Captain Crap-a-tude would just shut the hell up and get to work. Nope that didn’t happen.

Handyman Herb and his Sidekick proceeded to slowly pace around my house aimlessly assessing the project list. Not only are Herb and Sidekick wasting more time but their actively bitching about the jobs on the list like what a pain in the ass they may or may not be. This horseshit went on for 10-12 minutes as I continued to text my Wife updating her on the on going circus of shit as it unfolded.

Then shit really started to go down hill. Every fucking job that was on the list (which my Wife discussed with him one on one via the phone) in his opinion wasn’t an problem/worth fixing. The biggest issue was his total lack of preparedness. Herb read down the list while he moseyed around my house like a vagrant informing me that he didn’t have the tools for each said job. Around number 7 on the list Herb try to switch the blame for his grossly unprofessional bullshit was actually my Wife’s fault. Blaming my Wife (not to mention like I said I was in the room when the 2 of them talked on the phone so he’s lying to my fucking face) was a massive mistake.

Even then I was still straining with every fucking fiber of my being to get something productive done and not shit all over Not So Handy Herb and his wide eyed, mute, mouth breathing sidekick. As I mentioned earlier I was feverishly texting my Wife about not only what the hell was going on but my reaction(s) to it all. Losing my composure bit by bit I had started to fight fire with fire. I tensed up my body language to match Herb’s, started to angrily glare, and started to say things with a bad attitude. Example “I don’t give a damn about why nothing can get done, I need someone to fix this shit because I’m getting the fuck out of this shithole state.” Herb remained oblivious.

She was very cool about the whole deal as usually in these situations she is the one struggling to get me to chill out. When it got to the point that I texted her “I’m SO fucking done with Herb, I’m about to kick him and his shitty attitude out of the fucking house, she wrote back “O.K. kick him out then and we’ll call someone who appreciates the work.”

I can not BEGIN to explain how INSANELY HAPPY that text made me. I immediately tracked Herb down where he was lingering in my house like a foul fart. I then addressed Herb and the current crap shoot by saying the following:

“Obviously this ISN’T working for ME or YOU so the best thing for you (Herb) is to GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE and take Sidekick Shitkicker with you.”

The immense relief and total wave of satisfaction in absolving myself of these two wannabe handyman half wits was the definition of utter bliss.