Thursday, April 09, 2009
Legendary blogger, Drew Magary, has a blog called "Father Knows Shit". It's pretty much a diary of all the weird and stupid shit that goes on over the course of fatherhood. So I'm sitting around the other day thinking, "I'm getting married soon, I have no idea what's going on, She-Money keeps dropping all of these monster bills my way, and I have no idea what I'm supposed to be doing." Whenever I see fit, I'm going to do a post about some horrible aspect of the wedding planning process. If you guys take one piece of advice from me, let it be this:
There is nothing wrong with getting married. There is everything wrong with planning a wedding. Everything about it sucks and it is ripe to be blogged/bitched about. I've already ranted and raved about flowers, the DJ, groomsmen gifts, and who could forget my epic Bed Bath and Beyond tirade. Up next on "Groom Knows Dick": Real Estate.
Are all real estate agents assholes? Seriously, the guy helping She$ and I wouldn't return any of her phone calls but for some reason answered mine every time. While I appreciate his philosophy that "women are idiots", well, I just plain support that policy. But it took him two weeks to finally set up a face-to-face with us. And being the impatient sex God that I am, that ain't too cool.
So last night we met with the selling agent for a house that we like. It's a great deal. It's about a minute away from where I live now. The previous owner left all the appliances there. I get my own bathroom. It features 4 glory holes spread throughout the house. We know that we want it and we're ready to get serious. But, oh no, this guy wants to get to know us more. And as soon as this guy finds out that She$ works at Ohio State, Jesus titty-fucking Christ, he literally spent 45 minutes talking about Ohio State football and the former players that he is friends with. And here I am with my dick in my hand; not giving a fuck about any of this. Ooooooh, you know Mike Vrabel??? I'm so impressed. How about focusing on us for a bit instead of name-dropping borderline celebrities? I don't give a shit about where your season tickets are or about Gordon Gee's bowtie-shaped cookies, we need a fucking shelter, you prick.
I say all of this because I hate Ohio State fans, but in all honesty, the realtor is actually a pretty good guy. He didn't sugarcoat anything. We asked him to be honest and he was. But one thing has me worried and has for a few weeks now. He continues to insist that this process takes awhile...a long while. And my main complaint here is WHY!
What the fuck takes so long? You know what you would accept for the property. We make an offer. We have the financing to back it up. What's the big fucking hold-up? I don't get these things. You know, people are always talking about how the real estate market sucks now...well maybe if the banks actually did their fucking job and approved some home sales, it wouldn't be such a shitty landscape. I don't know, I could have no idea what I'm talking about here. But that's what bothers me...the uncertainty. The fact that when August 1st rolls around and we tie the knot, we could still be waiting on a fucking bank to get off of their asses.
We've been told that we can afford this place and my old man is taking care of the finances, but even then, the realtor told us that we have a 60-70% of landing this place. And that's what I don't understand. It shouldn't be this difficult and you shouldn't have to jump through this many hoops. How does this make any sense at all!!!
AHHHHHH! Fuck it all. She$ and I are going to end up living in different houses for the next ten fucking years waiting for this shit to go through. Stupid real estate shit. I hate you so much. Maybe some dirty homeless shelter will take us in.