Glengowrie Bargains
Ever thought of moving to the fine suburb of Glengowrie?
Well, perhaps this house is just for you! Let's take a tour!
First of all, the delightful front elevation:
Stupid poofy sky-blue weather shade tutus sticking out from above the prison-camp windows, which are shrouded with metal spiderwebs that burst from the rear of giant metal spiders like steel excrement. Let's not even mention the paving, which appears to have been stolen from the carpark of a dubious dentist, or the horrid flowers, which were just thrown in the general direction of the house and planted in mis-matching pots wherever they landed.
This is not a doll-house. This is a real house. Therefore, there is no excuse for this....this.......abomination. Lord knows what the shitty blue tiles are doing in the kitchen - they certainly don't compliment the, erm, distinctive pink colour scheme. I imagine that if you ate strawberry cheesecake and drank four litres of milk, jumped up and down all day, and then vomited all over the interior of your house, it would look surprisingly close to this. I am intrigued by the gaping vagina design on the kitchen stools - does that enhance the femininity of the pink?
Here we are in the beautiful living area, with the same delightful cheesecake vomit decor found in the kitchen/meals area. I see there are strange bugs all over the floor, as well as the UBER PIMP ACCESSORY of the year - a WHITE TELEVISION WITH MATCHING WHITE STAND. Sweet Jesus. Also note the steel spider excrement forming a web over the front door, which helps welcome visitors, especially if they are the size of grains of sand so they can fit through the gaps. I can't wait to sit on that comfy-looking sofa with the stupid frilly shit around the base, either, so that I can lean back and bonk my head on not one, but Two ugly vases with their own Grecian stands wrapped in floral garlands. I cannot believe I just had to write that.
Ah, the bedroom. Cheesecake vomit. I expect that was probably brought on by the set of flamingoes watching over the floor bugs. I also have a sneaking suspicion that the bent-over flamingo is doing so given the extreme guilt he feels having just left a sizeable Number Two on the pillow. Of course, whilst taking all this in, I noticed the minature shoes on the stylish shiny white dresser, which leads me to conclude that this house is in fact a harem for transsexual dwarves modelling themselves on Joan Collins from Dynasty, except they ate too much strawberry cheesecake and vomited all over the place. Like Trinny and Susannah, I feel compelled to run up to all of the breast lamps and heave them upwards, shrieking loudly about inappropriate underwear choices and whatnot.
I particularly like how the spiderweb window bars are covering every possible escape route from this dwarf harem. You might think that sitting down in the lounge room with a nice cup of tea would be a pleasant experience (despite the fact that the kitchen induces projectile vomiting of cheesecake around corners and down hallways, and even under bedsheets, which is unlikely to result in a very nice cup of tea at all, to be perfectly honest); well, you'll love this room even more as the entire house burns down around you and all you can do is watch the world carry on without you through webs of metal spider shit. Even though it appears to be raining flowers, that's not going to help you put out the fire at all, unless you live in some bizarre homosexual fantasy land where everyone eats fairy bread, and problems are solved with rainbows and hugs.
In a past life, this house was used as a beauty salon. I find this ironic given the state of the room in which clients are supposedly to become 'beautiful'. In fact, I'm willing to bet that part of the money-making schemes of the transsexual dwarves was the running of a brothel for the more mature client - the decor would really appeal to those who get off at the thought of lace doilies, privacy curtains from a rundown nursing home, fluorescent lighting from a bank, and fake flowers that seem to spontaneously grow out of little red bags, display stands and cosmetics. Also, it appears that the room right at the very back is where they hold you down and pull out your eyes with nail scissors.
And, finally, the lovely outdoor area. I have but one thing to say: painting pavers green does not constitute 'lawn'. I think you have to be able to fall over on it and not break your hip before it gets to be called lawn. Oh, and it appears that the giant metal spiders have perfected the art of making their steel excrement portable!
So, there you have it: Glengowrie at its finest! What is possibly the most frightful point of all is that this house is currently for sale, and it is listed in excess of seven hundred and ninety thousand dollars.