OK, so I guess I need to tell the story. After the fire (a year after the fire), Bob had basically abandoned the property, but would still come by, sit in the driveway a couple times a week and drink beer.
Well, my cousin Chris, #69 and Minister of Defense for the PBR, at the time lived on a corner lot. Every week when he cut the grass he had to remove all the realtors' signs that they put there to let passers-by know that there was a house for sale down the street, and would keep them in his garage.
I got a bunch of them and started putting them in Bob's yard down by the street. Nomatter what company, the signs all read, "House for Sale," and had an arrows on them. Of course, I put the arrow pointing toward Bob's house. I couldn't tell you how many realtors would slow down in front of his house, I'm sure scratching their heads and checking their hitlists. I can't tell you, because I didn't count them. Anyway, Bob would take a sign down, and I'd put another one up. I went through ten signs with this shenanegan when he finally took one of them, duct-taped vinyl siding insulation to it, and wrote his oh-so-ellegant-and-now-widely-quoted verse.
3 comments:
Is this sitting in Rufus' old spot?
Nope. This was out in Bob Reed's front yard.
OK, so I guess I need to tell the story.
After the fire (a year after the fire), Bob had basically abandoned the property, but would still come by, sit in the driveway a couple times a week and drink beer.
Well, my cousin Chris, #69 and Minister of Defense for the PBR, at the time lived on a corner lot. Every week when he cut the grass he had to remove all the realtors' signs that they put there to let passers-by know that there was a house for sale down the street, and would keep them in his garage.
I got a bunch of them and started putting them in Bob's yard down by the street. Nomatter what company, the signs all read, "House for Sale," and had an arrows on them. Of course, I put the arrow pointing toward Bob's house.
I couldn't tell you how many realtors would slow down in front of his house, I'm sure scratching their heads and checking their hitlists. I can't tell you, because I didn't count them.
Anyway, Bob would take a sign down, and I'd put another one up. I went through ten signs with this shenanegan when he finally took one of them, duct-taped vinyl siding insulation to it, and wrote his oh-so-ellegant-and-now-widely-quoted verse.
Dumas!
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