Cat: And what were you doing in Massachusetts for nine hours?
Monkey: Visiting my mom. And the giant dog who loves you very much.
Cat: ogawd. Do I have to get out the waterboard again? That took nine hours?
Monkey: Well, we also looked at a house. Er. A couple of houses, but one was not a go for reasons of being more of a bulldozer special than a contractor special. But we looked at one in Spencer--
Cat: You looked at a house in an Elizabethan poet?
Monkey: S-P-E-N-C-E-R, not S-P-E-N-S-E-R. And no, in neither of the fictional detectives, either. Shut up.
Cat: ...so why were you looking at houses?
Monkey: Well, this particular house, it's an 1880 neoColonial converted to a two-family, six rooms upstairs and six rooms downstairs, not counting a bathroom and a laundry room and great big entry hall in each. It has original stained glass windows in some rooms. The upstairs has two tiny sun porches, one over the front entry and one over the back entry.
It has this absolutely bizarre front porch, where there's mortared fieldstone pillar pedestals, and four steps up to them. The bottom step is mortared stone, the second step is a giant block of granite, and the third and fourth steps are marble. There's a fan-shaped stained glass insert in the master bedroom door downstairs, with one pane broken out. All like that.
It's an amazing mad old kludge of a house; it looks like it was quite elegant once upon a time, and then people kept sticking things on it. It's on a couple of acres, but most of the property is completely overgrown and has tons of junk littering it. A kiddie pool. A dead trailer. There's a dead tree in the front yard and a thicket that will need an excavator to get rid of. And the lot is about six inches wide and three miles long. It used to be a spaghetti farm.
Cat: You do not expect me to fall for the spaghetti farm thing.
Monkey: Well, I had hopes, anyway.
Cat: So you were looking at a weird house.
Monkey: Right. Essentially, it's been a rental property since 1970 or so, so you can kind of tell that any time anything went wrong with it, they repaired it by the cheapest means possible. So there are wonderful old lathe and plaster walls which have awful wallpaper slapped over them, wrinkled and crooked and peeling, and the pine floors upstairs have like, Las Vegas casino carpeting glued to the wood. Somebody is going to Hell for what they have done to this house, more or less. The yard is pretty much a thicket, except the parts they paved over, and they paved over rather a lot more of it than anybody would want to shovel. They've painted over wallpaper in places. In hideous colors. The bathrooms are these great big Victorian bathrooms that have a pedestal sink stuck against one wall and a modular plastic tub shower thing in the corner. In the front entry, from the inside, you can see an oval stained glass window three feet tall. When they put the vinyl siding on, they just... sided over it. It's not there on the outside. It's like a house in a Nancy Drew book.
Cat: That sounds... peculiar. So you went to see a peculiar house? Monkey, you are also peculiar.
Monkey: Upstairs, we met the resident cat, who was a very friendly tortie.
Cat: You've been with another cat?
Monkey: It was just a flirtation. I promise.
But that's not the best part. It's got a full-footprint basement. But! The support members of the basement are mortared stone and brick arch, under every weight-bearing wall, so the basement has the same floor plan as the house. And it's full of garbage. Two partially disassembled refrigerators. A derelict stove. Something I am not sure was not a sniper scope. Several bags of empty beer cans.
I swear unto you, if it had a mysterious dry well, you would recognize this basement from the movie version of The Silence of the Lambs.
But it's all structurally sound, and other than being creepy as hell and badly in need of about forty hours of cleaning, it's kind of seriously wonderful in an OMG, this basement is SO HAUNTED kind of way.
And it has a walk-out, which means it would be good for the dogs...
Cat: Dogs? Your mom is thinking of buying it for the dogs?
Monkey: Er. Sort of?
Cat: You're not thinking of... moving.
Monkey: Well, the thing is, it's so cosmetically trashed, we figure we can get them to knock something significant off the price for the amount of work we'd have to do just to make it not hideous, and clean up the yard. It has fireplaces. On each floor. And a bay window. Did I mention the bay window?
Cat: Monkey. You're thinking of moving? Me? To a house with dogs?
Monkey: It has a sun porch! That would be your sun porch! And.... and mice! It has mice! Did I mention the mice?
Cat: You have to sleep eventually.
[21:03] matociquala: Oh god.
[21:03] matociquala: I'm unclean
[21:03] matociquala: coffeeem sent me a Death Cab song and I like it.
[21:03] stillnotbored: heeee
[21:03] leahbobet: unclean! unclean!
[21:04] stillsostrange: Unclean!
[21:04] matociquala: Unclean!
[21:04] leahbobet: *shuns*
[21:04] matociquala: Unclean!
[21:04] stillsostrange: *crosses self*
[21:04] leahbobet: *turns out of the village with a goat*
[21:04] matociquala: *performs purgation with Jonathan Coulton*
[21:04] leahbobet: coffeeem shall henceforth be known as Emotyphoid Mary.
And in the midst of all the driving around ,I figured out how to unbreak "Knock On Coffins." So I will go start doing that now.
Go team me!