We had the inspection last night at the new house. Although there were a handful of things that truly need addressing before we seal the deal, I think we should be ok. And by “handful of things” I really mean fixing the front porch so that it’s not RIPPING ITSELF from the front of the house. Apparently the builder was enjoying the “special brownies” when he was working on this house. Either that or they didn’t teach him at Builder University that nails do not suffice for this application.

I don’t claim to know much about homes. At all. And what I DO know is basic at best. But I’m damned sure that I know that it’s a boo-boo to drywall over the gas main. And the water main shut-off. And the shut-off for one of two exterior spiggots. I’m not sure if this amazing feat of carpetary was compliments of Commander Billy the Master Builder (of porch building fame) or the current homeowner. Whomever is to blame they should be knuckle-wrapped, for real.

By the end of the day I was completely frazzled. After work we had a meeting with Mortgage Man to discuss superhero things just how dramatically we had missed our original monthly payments estimates. Since meeting with him I’ve decided: 1) not all mortgage brokers are blood-sucking vampires and, 2) no one ends up buying a house BELOW the price that they seek to find. The power of self-persuassion is all too seductive I tell you.

So we signed our souls away, locked in our rate and headed off to a less-than reassuring inspection. And while I’m sure that in the grand scheme of things the report really wasn’t that bad at all, it surely seemed like our guy had it our for the house. Seriously. I actually felt badly for the house, as if it was getting unnecessarily picked on. Poor thing. And what I learned from the inspection? If you look at ANYTHING for three hours, you’re going to find a sh*t ton of things to be remediated.

While there I snapped some truly awful pictures since it’s not listed on the internet. I’m sure the family wouldn’t be overly happy with their home being published. But it’s not like I’m revealing the address. Yet. Because when I do, you’re all invited to the bash of the century.

Just don’t stand on the porch. It might collapse.