December 22, 2016

A Pox Upon Your House!

Filed under: la vida pobre — Benjamin Vulpes @ 9:59 p.m.

A homebuilder bought the lot next to the house that I rent, and has been building a house upon it for lo these past four months. He ripped out the privacy hedge between our properties so that his mass-produced pressed-shitboard insult to the word "house" might press up as close as is legally-allowed to the property line; coated all of my cars in a fine layer of all sorts of dust from soil to concrete to gravel; and made heinous noises, mostly between the legally-allowed hours of 7AM and 7PM during the week but also during the weekend when applying the composite roof.

Most recently and offensively, he woke from my sweet ad libitum slumber compacting the gravel ahead of pouring his driveway.

And so I pronounce curses upon him:

May the foundation of every home you build crack.

May the siding I heard your caulking contractor complaining about the gaps in never seal completely.

May your roofs need replacing before their warranties expire.

May your modern, high-efficiency HVAC units output a meagre trickle of cold air.

May the company underwriting your warranties discover the quality of your workmanship.

May the mounting points for the solar panels you eschewed installing never seal properly, and force an early roof replacement.

May you take a wander around your freshly-constructed fire hazard, and find deep shame in the fact that your siding contractors can't match the grain on vinyl siding designed to look like wood and to match at panel seams.

May prospective buyers of your craft, such as it may be called, also see the miserably bad siding job, and demand a greater discount off your ask than you ever imagined granting in a tight housing market.

May your wife demand that you waste tens of thousands of dollars extending the life of your ailing pet by weeks.

May you and your agents struggle to sell the house, burdened with the embarrassment of the heinously bad siding job.

May your box truck never pass DEQ, and may you never figure out why.

May your next door neighbors (hi!) throw obscenely loud parties with lots of cigarette smoke, swearing and hateful rap music during the open houses at which you'll struggle to unload your bullshit paper on the next greatest fool.

May the roofers who work on your buildings without safety equipment fall from the third story and bankrupt you with a safety practices violation suit.

May your children take on as much nondischargeable debt as is possible, while also spending whatever pittance you saved for their college, and may they waste that time and money in pursuit of degrees that will never show any ROI or educate them meaningfully.

And finally, may you be left sitting upon a pile of inventory when the housing market crashes next.

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