I did not write the following ad, for the above referenced pink palace, but some day I think I’d like to. Below is an actual transcript for the actual house in the picture above.
Think this house is some sort of joke? Think again, chief.
This house should only be purchased by the manliest of men. My friend, if a house could grow a five o’clock shadow, this bad boy would need to shave by noon… so lesser men need not apply. Here’s why.
Crafted from nature’s finest raw materials by 5th degree ninja warriors, it was built for the man who snatches victory from the jaws of defeat on a daily basis.
They didn’t bother with girlie features like a front door with beveled glass. Real men don’t even know what beveled means. All we know is square. Square jaw, square meal, and looking another man square in the eyes when squaring off in the parking lot.
Yeah it’s pink, but so what. This was never intended as the dream home of every six-year-old princess across the fruited plain. No, this hellcat from planet kickass just happened to be born in a Hello Kitty body.
Is it in turnkey condition? Heck no it’s not in turnkey condition. It’s got a leaky roof, saggy floor joists, and the AC unit only works when kicked in the just the right spot with a size 13 boot… what size boot are you workin’ with, big fella?
So yeah, this beastly box of of a house has been to hell and back and has the repair estimates to prove it. So if you’re too much of a pretty boy for this fire-breathing, dragon-slaying hero of a home just because it has a few purple hearts, then move along.
But I know you won’t. I know your type. You’re a doer. A fixer. The classic man’s man. And you’re smart enough to realize most swimsuit models would crawl through a mile of crushed glass just to watch a handyman in action through a pair of Fisher Price binoculars. And guess what, stud… that man could be you!
I don’t wanna hear you whining about this home’s lack of a security system. The only security system you’ll need is a stick to keep all the women at bay once they catch wind of your legendary address.
It comes equipped with all the things we testosterone-fueled adrenaline junkies need — like a woodworking shop. And guess what’s included in the sale, boss…
… yep, the finest assortment of hand tools you ever saw, along with a first aid kit in case you slice a finger doing the work of a real man. You know what the first aid kit contains? A pint of Jim Beam, a stitch-your-own-wound kit, and a chunk of leather to bite down on when you’re sewing yourself back up.
It’s priced to move at $179,000, or you can shell out twice as much for the home down the street (and get your man card revoked in the process).
My client will entertain all reasonable offers. And by reasonable I mean if you offer $100,000, that’s liable to earn you a trip to the ER, compliments of a thunder punch to the throat followed up by a two-fingered eye-jab. Would it hurt? Let’s just say you’d better get used to Popeye jokes, champ.
Make a full price offer and my client will even throw in the front doormat. You know what it says? “Man Cave Sweet Man Cave”. Hell, I’d buy it and make the repairs my damn self if my other career didn’t keep me away so much. You know what my other career is? Teaching Navy Seals to base jump. At night… blindfolded. Yeah.
So trust me, this helluva deal with sex appeal will outlast you and the offspring that carry your name. Rumor has it that Chuck Norris was bred here, Elvis was wed here, and John Wayne dropped dead here. Yeah. So what legacy are you gonna leave in this home, tough guy?
Now, go look in the mirror and tell me what’s staring back. If it’s a rugged, non candy-assed Dwayne Johnson stunt double, then call me. I might be out hang-gliding the Rockies or swimming laps in Lake Superior, but leave a message with my assistant and I’ll get back to you.