How not to sell a house
Just for the record, Mr. Realtor Man, you don't inspire me to buy a house from you if you give me a prolonged lecture on lowering my standards. In fact, I find it appalling and quite a bit condescending and rude. I'm more likely to run over you with my Jeep than continue to listen to your abuse. If you can't make the houses look any better than this, well...who the hell are you going to sell them to?
The houses you showed us smelled. They have clearly been taken over by the creepies and the crawlies, and little to no maintenance seems to have been performed on these properties since 1971. My standards are too high? I'll never be satisfied?
Maybe. But I suggest that your standards are so low as to eventually lead to your demise to some rampant and nasty disease like Hanta virus or Bubonic plague. Spiders are not my friends. Moreover, in purchasing a home I don't look for something that is going to need to be tented, bombed, and cleaned for six weeks before I move in.
I do beg your pardon, but kindly suggest you take your pissy properties and lecture about me meeting reality and shove them up your obviously festering with sores ass.
So nice meeting you, blah, blah.
Get me the hell out of here!
