EVEN RED STATERS GET THE BLUES
Rex Battles Depression the Manly, American Way
Ed. Note: Against the advice of staff attorney John Ashcroft, our own Rex Kramer has decided to report today in the first person.
My loyal RexHeads©, it’s been a rough 24 hours here on my land of the free, upon which sits my home of the brave. This time yesterday, the Danger-Seeking clan was packing their humble belongings in anticipation of the imminent sale of their domicile, also known as the “Kramerica Kompound©.” We were also making preparations to take a second gander (with the help of the good folks at the NSA, of course) at a property that we had every intention of making an offer on. Yes, Virginia, things were looking positive for the patriots.
Then, like Rep. John Murtha (D-PA,) our potential buyers cut and run at the last, and worst, moment. Does no one “stay the course” these days?!? In any event, the deal is dead, this magnificent residence is back on the free market, and your stars-and-stripes saluting servant is a bit, well, down in the dumps.
Now, before y’all start mailing me condolence checks (remember, “Kramer” begins with a “K,”) rest assured that when Republicans get depressed, we do so conservatively. No, you won’t see this Danger-Seeker in any shrink’s office, blaming all my woes on the fact that daddy didn’t love me. Pop “happy pills?” Do I look like a Kennedy?!? I’ll do what every red-blooded Kramer man has done when the going gets tough…get going!!!
That’s right, Kramericans©, it’s time to fill the cooler full of icy-cold Pabst Blue Ribbon, slap a coat of wax on the board, and head to the beach. On the way to New Smyrna Beach, I might catch a glimpse of the forest fires the liberal media has been whining about. Once there, there’s a possibility the sea level may be a wee bit higher than it was last year. However, as I explained in today’s The Blue Republic piece, this is not proof that the globe is warming! Even if it is, I don’t want to hear about it today! No, I’d rather just drink my beer, ride some waves, and forget about real estate for awhile.
In fact, this may very well turn into a weekend-long surfing safari. If so, be sure to call your mothers tomorrow, America…they’re as American as, well, some kind of pie.
Ed. Note: Against the advice of staff attorney John Ashcroft, our own Rex Kramer has decided to report today in the first person.
My loyal RexHeads©, it’s been a rough 24 hours here on my land of the free, upon which sits my home of the brave. This time yesterday, the Danger-Seeking clan was packing their humble belongings in anticipation of the imminent sale of their domicile, also known as the “Kramerica Kompound©.” We were also making preparations to take a second gander (with the help of the good folks at the NSA, of course) at a property that we had every intention of making an offer on. Yes, Virginia, things were looking positive for the patriots.
Then, like Rep. John Murtha (D-PA,) our potential buyers cut and run at the last, and worst, moment. Does no one “stay the course” these days?!? In any event, the deal is dead, this magnificent residence is back on the free market, and your stars-and-stripes saluting servant is a bit, well, down in the dumps.
Now, before y’all start mailing me condolence checks (remember, “Kramer” begins with a “K,”) rest assured that when Republicans get depressed, we do so conservatively. No, you won’t see this Danger-Seeker in any shrink’s office, blaming all my woes on the fact that daddy didn’t love me. Pop “happy pills?” Do I look like a Kennedy?!? I’ll do what every red-blooded Kramer man has done when the going gets tough…get going!!!
That’s right, Kramericans©, it’s time to fill the cooler full of icy-cold Pabst Blue Ribbon, slap a coat of wax on the board, and head to the beach. On the way to New Smyrna Beach, I might catch a glimpse of the forest fires the liberal media has been whining about. Once there, there’s a possibility the sea level may be a wee bit higher than it was last year. However, as I explained in today’s The Blue Republic piece, this is not proof that the globe is warming! Even if it is, I don’t want to hear about it today! No, I’d rather just drink my beer, ride some waves, and forget about real estate for awhile.
In fact, this may very well turn into a weekend-long surfing safari. If so, be sure to call your mothers tomorrow, America…they’re as American as, well, some kind of pie.
posted by Rex Kramer, Danger Seeker at Saturday, May 13, 2006
8 Comments:
Maybe a RXHead would be a stand up guy and buy your house? Where you moving to?
Rex, Mr. Pop and I have gone through that twice in the last month and a half. It is indeed a total pisser each time. Thus the name Morning Martini. No, I don't have one but a couple of times recently I considered it.
Mr. Pop was in New Smyrna Beach last Mon-Tues-Wed. He said it was smokey and smelled horrible of forest burning. He had to get off I-95 at one point and take a different route.
So anyway, just wanted you to know that you are not alone in "dem I can't feakin' sell my home now", blues. We, the Pop folks, are right there with you. Wishing you better luck with the next contract.
Cut and run bstards! have they no shame!
Sorry, Rex and company, for the hassle that is real estate. So many of us can relate.
Glenda: Like the Jeffersons, we were/are planning on "moving on up," not to a de-luxe apartment in the sky, but rather a local, slightly-larger home than our current one. Mrs. Danger-Seeker and I aren't the status-seeking type, but our ability to knock out babies like a Hummer produces CO2 demands it.
POP (and Mr. POP): Such is life in the deflating housing bubble that is FL. Ah, well, it's only money (damn...I AM a liberal!) There have been other offers so hope sprinsg eternal (was that optimism? Phew...I AM a conservative!) Anyway, the beach thing didn't happen today, but plans have been set for tomorrow. Sure, getting there through the burning trees may be dodgy, but once there I'm comforted by the fact that water can't catch on fire. Well, maybe Lake Erie.
EB: A minor setback...especially since the fire insurance on this house is set at an unusually high dollar amount!
Cut and run bstards! have they no shame!
Must been a bunch of l'bruls--might even have been from out of state.
Sorry to hear that, Rex. But if it's any consolation to you, the NSA has probably got the cutter-and-runner's number - literally.
Kvatch: This is Florida...everyone's from out of state (except me, of course.)
Abi: Oh, I have their number, their address and their medical records. Damn, it sure would be a shame if someone were to cause a loud noise outside their door that might aggrevate that heart condition!
Kidding. Mostly.
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