Moving Out Your Childhood Home Is Weird

I’m selling my childhood home. And by “I’m”, I literally mean me. Despite my 0 realtor experience. My mom used to sell houses before Zillow and quite possibly before the internet. So what started as her being our realtor has quickly turned into me managing the Zillow account. Taking calls, putting up ads in the Staten Island newspaper, the whole nine. It’s bullshit. 

As stressful as it is, selling it definitely isn’t the worst part. It’s the end of my childhood, the end of an era, and the end of a marriage (looking at you mom and dad). We moved there in ‘96 when I was three so it’s pretty much my first and only house.

I gutted my entire room. Closest, under the bed, everything. Nothings left. Found my favorite beanie baby, my blackberry, and valentines card from my fourth grade crush. Lotta memories in that room. Lotta memories in that house. Playing Halo 2 split screen for hours with the boys, listening to Da Drought 3 in the garage with no heat, my first kiss, tackle football in the backyard, my first fingering, two of my dogs buried in the backyard. The list goes on. I’m handling it alright though I think, can’t say the same for the rest of the family. 

My dad makes inappropriate jokes to deflect his emotions, a family pastime. The other day he pointed to a spot in his room and told my little brother that’s where he was conceived. Gross, I’ve walked over that spot no less than a million times. He’s kind of a bozo so he’s not involved in the selling process which is frustrating him. To make him feel included I had him post our Zillow page to his Facebook since he has 4,968 friends. That’s a real stat. If you gave me a whole week I don’t think I could name 4,968 people who have ever lived. He got 201 comments on the post and I shit you not he replied to every single one. 

My mom is just sad. Which is really depressing for a son to see, but she sure does make it easier. She moved out a year ago and coming back to the house makes her cry. The first 10 times we comforted her until she calmed down. After the next 30 it was like alright what do you keep coming back here for. You didn’t need to drive over just to check if the hose still worked, a simple call would’ve sufficed. Plus she loves berating my brother and I for “treating it like a frat house when we’re trying to sell”. 

As far as my siblings go, my brother has a black soul and my sister started her own family in a new house years ago. 

After telling me that they wouldn’t give me any money from the sale I found out my parents were entertaining an offer 50k under the asking price. I begged them to reconsider and worked a little marketing management. Got three more showings booked today. My parents thanked me and said I’d have a hundred bucks coming my way. I told them they just showed their fucking cards and they better split that 50k they were ready to piss away between their children if I get asking price for this thing. Light at the end of the tunnel. 

He’s Here And He’s Perfect!

Our king has made his way back into the headlines. The Rockefeller Christmas tree has bullied the Ravens and Steelers into playing at 3:30 on Wednesday. This magnificent display of nature plays second fiddle to no one. Especially not to two grossly overrated football teams.

I cannot stress how much I love this fucking tree. Raggedy looking fuck. There was a time when these pictures were released that I would search “Rockefeller Tree” into Twitter just to bask in everybody’s whining. And now it’s back. Oh you should hear my buddies down south bitching about how they’re going to miss the game cause they’ll be working. Playoff implications viewed through a gamecast all because some stick figure drawn tree is getting lights put on it up in New York. The Tree has now pissed off football people, PETA cause they kidnapped an owl, tree people I imagine, tourists, and Christmas people on account of its appearance. Who’s left to enjoy it? Me, that’s who. 

It’s just a hilarious tree. Rumor has it that the tree picked was purposely hideous to deter people from flocking to Rockefeller Center during the pandemic. I can only hope that’s true. If it is, whoever made that call deserves a raise. All these wieners crying on Twitter about how their Christmas tradition is ruined. How this Christmas tree was supposed to be their symbol of hope to get past 2020, and this is what they got. Get over yourself. Some people couldn’t go to their family members funeral this year, I think you’ll be ok not taking a picture with a tree. It’s a tree, there’s millions of them. Go outside with your iPhone. 

The shame of it is, this is the first year that I’d actually want to take a picture with the tree. It’d be my Christmas card forever. You can take a picture every year with the same looking tree. This is the one year you can get a picture with a fugly lookin tree. It’a like a baseball card with a spelling mistake, super rare. But alas, even imagining my mother screeching at me for taking the train into the city is enough to make my brain bleed. 

I don’t know, maybe I just relate to the tree. I’m also a depressing looking giant designed to keep people away from me, despite my shocking amount of Christmas spirit. Long Live The Tree.

UPDATE: Apparently they miraculously cured the tree’s appearance and now I have nothing. 

Confession: I Don't Know When Sports' Jerseys Are Ugly

Double confession I don't know how to pluralize "jersey". Jersies just looked wrong. Jerzies? Who cares, the Sixers dropped these new uniforms and it's been all over Twitter. Are they ugly? Are they tough? Who's to say. I have no idea, I never have. It's not just NBA either. Whether it's NFL, MLB, collegiate, etc. I can't seem to get a guage on how Twitter will recieve new jerseys. I can't even tell you how many times I've seen a uniform release and think "thats pretty fresh", only to have one of my snarky friends post it in our group chat with a puke emoji. Then everyone piles on it and I sneak off into the corner keeping my original assesment to myself. For whatever reason my opinion is always on the wrong side of public perception. I'm ashamed to admit that I now wait for the Twitter results before praising or bashing a new uniform. Maybe I can't get a read on sports fashion but I CAN read a room and regurgitate accordingly. I've seen jerseys I liked get dragged on Twitter only to say to a buddy at a bar "You see how gross the new {team name} jerseys are? Lol." My taste in clothing isn't all that bad. In fact, a lot of pounds ago I used to fancy myself a fashionable guy. Which is why I have such a fucking issue every time a team reveals a new uniform. All of a sudden every guy with a Twitter handle has a degree from FIT. Using terms like "color clash" and shit. Well I'm done being afraid of my stances on jerseys. No more will dudes who buy the 4 for $20 t-shirts from Champs with white Air Forces dictate my opinions. The Sixers jerseys are just fine.