Winchester Split-Level of Mystery

It's a very narrow hallway leading to a very little door that's three feet off the ground. Perhaps I will move here, and make my kids sleep in the very little room when they're bad. Or maybe I'll store very little things here. Like cookies.

(See! I end on a cheerful note! So my tasteless joke is okay! And my kids never read this anyway... as far as I know. Maybe they do have wifi up in the attic. And yes, I know it's not really a split level. I don't care. Pfffft!)

Mine? Really? Why, thank you!

Is it included in the sale? They don't mention "big heap o' junk" in the listing, so it's not clear.

The importance of planning ahead

"I'm done securing the doors and windows. Have you taken all the photos you need?"

"Yup. Pack it up, and let's get out of here."

"So we'll just walk out through the... $#^@*&!!!"

My first thought is not "I'll take a refreshing dip!"

Eeew.

Squawk!

I like to imagine that the homeowner perches in this hanging chair and talks to the two stuffed birds on their little swings. (But by "like to imagine" I actually mean "am terribly afraid.")

Dreary. So very dreary.

This is perhaps the most soul-destroying photo I've ever seen on a real estate listing. Its bleakness has sapped my ability to write. Excuse me -- I need to go sit outside for a while.

Colorblind painters need work, too

"Oh crap, someone wrote on the wall here..."
"Eh, don't worry -- just paint over it and nobody will notice."