This story made me laugh so hard that I spewed egg salad on the person who told it to me. The story involves a guy, a “frisky” dog, and a bath tub – the sellers’. At first I didn’t believe it could be true, but after checking with my dog’s vet, I found out it could have happened indeed. Just be glad this did not occur at your open house. But I would have given anything to have been there!
Not All Rules Were Made to Be Broken
Jeff was hosting a Brokers Open at his neighbor’s house, which he had just listed. The sellers had recently purchased a new dog, a young German Shepherd, whom the seller left in a cage for open house day. As Jeff was setting out listing sheets, he found it difficult to avoid the doleful eyes and the sad whimpering of the cute little canine. Although the seller had left directions that the dog be kept in the cage, Jeff, being a dog lover, decided to play with the dog briefly before his guests arrived. Having been a dog walker in college, he felt confident in his ability to control the playful pup. Note: Jeff is a dolt.
Just as the first arrivals opened the door, Jeff was putting Frisky back in the cage when the dog bolted. The other agents immediately closed the door so the little guy could not escape, but little did they know that they would become the victims of Frisky’s, uh, “excitement.” (Cue the music from “Jaws,” please.) Frisky did not run away from the agents. Noooo, he ran toward them. With overwhelming energy. And urine spewing. And tongue dripping. And paws galumphing. And uncontrollable libido. For the agents, the excitement was just beginning.
Getting a Leg Up on Things
Frisky was a humper. An uncontrollable, undiscriminating, indefatigable, obsessive, non-stop humper. And did I say he humps? He humped the chairs, the sofa, every leg he could corner, the sofa pillows, the foot stool. He would have humped himself if he could have. Nothing was spared. The agent tried to gather him up, but the more Frisky was chased, the more excited he got. By now, more agents had arrived, and no one seemed to appreciate the affections of the little dog. If the amorous pooch had at least offered his victims dinner and a movie, he may have scored a few points, but Frisky believed in the direct approach of “I sees it, I wants it, I mounts it, and then I does it again.” (Note: He may have been Charlie Sheen’s dog, we’re not sure.)
One of the female agents was gently pushing Frisky away when she yelped, “Ewwwe, he’s got an erection!” Well, it’s true, this happens folks. Now, we’re talking a big, over-grown, friendly puppy here, and this is a normal, healthy thing, so don’t be offended. But I doubt that this form of entertainment is part of Martha Stewart’s instructions on how to entertain one’s guests.
Nature Takes Its Course
Jeff had no choice but to shoo everyone out of the house so he could take back control of his territory. He was obviously losing the pis__ing contest, so he decided he was going to let Frisky know who Alpha dog was. As it turns out, it sure wasn’t Jeff. Note: Jeff is more than a dolt, he’s an idiot.
Jeff asked a co-worker to pick up his signs, and he closed down the open house. After the last person left, he chased the dog into a corner and faced him down. Jeff gently picked up Frisky, threw him into the cage, and set about straightening the house. As Jeff wiped up urine puddles and applied First Aid to the assaulted pillows, he noticed that Frisky seemed agitated and was whimpering a bit. When Jeff decided to check on him, he noticed that Frisky was still feeling, well, “Frisky,” if you will.
There’s a Solution to Everything…Though Perhaps Not a Good One
Time passed, and Jeff wanted to re-open for caravan, but the plight of the little guy was too much for the sensitive agent to bear. He imagined himself in that situation, and decided that a half hour of “excitement” was enough of a good thing, especially by his own meager standards.
Jeff, still harboring delusions of being an expert with dogs, removed the “alert” pup from the cage. He locked the door and then took Frisky into the bathroom. Speaking to Frisky in a soothing voice, Jeff filled the bottom of the sunken shower while he slipped out of his shoes, socks and slacks. Jeff then stood in the cool water with the dog while Poor Frisky cooled his jets, so to speak.
Just when You Thought It Was Safe To Come Out…
Jeff splashed cool water on the little guy’s privates and told him what a good boy he was. It was only after a few minutes of water therapy that the hair on the back of Jeff’s neck stood straighter than any part of Frisky had ever been.
Suddenly Jeff turned around, and there was the owner staring curiously at pant-less Jeff, squatting in a shower with friendly Frisky. His eyes went from Jeff’s pile of clothes, to the shower, to Frisky, and back again as he tried to make sense of the entire scene. Frisky was delighted to see his master, but Jeff was speechless, wondering how he could ever explain the series of incidents that had led to such humiliation and degradation…not to mention possible incarceration.
Even a Pervert Can Get a Break
After a few pregnant moments of silence, the owner keeled over with laughter. He explained that he had driven past the house to check out the activity and was worried when he saw the signs had been taken down. He also informed Jeff that the reason he had told Jeff to keep the dog in the cage was not for Frisky’s protection, but for everyone else’s. He assured him that it had happened once before, and that the vet said the dog was fine and that his prolonged excitement would not hurt him as long as it wasn’t too prolonged.
For Jeff, however, the incident was ongoing. The next day at the office, he found a picture of himself with a smiling dog superimposed on his leg and the caption, “I give good open house.” And after that, every time his neighbor saw him, he would call out, “Hey Jeff, Frisky misses you. He says you never call, you never write…”
Author’s Note: No animals were harmed in the re-telling of this story. And Jeff is an idiot.
“House has spark” – burning up the MLS with typos and other bloopers
The year is starting a march toward its natural ending, friends…and it seems a few real estate careers may be also. This week I found some real head-scratchers in local real estate ads and the MLS. However, I get submissions from all over the U.S., so no one is safe from the eyes of the Blooper Scooper. Check out these blunders:
Do You Smell Smoke?
“House has spark” (Apparently your real estate career isn’t the only thing going up in smoke.)
“Big pep area in kitchen” (Is that the cookie jar where Mommy Dearest stashes her uppers?)
“Dull Viking ovens” (Methinks there’s something in the cookie jar that will perk up those dull Vikings.)
“Large greenhose in back” (Large, naked Jolly Green Giant in yard.)
“Mush added to this house” (Was that the overflow from between your ears?)
I Think I See Flames
“Beautifully remolded guest” (Another cosmetically-altered Barbie hits the Hollywood party circuit.)
“Enjoy a drink poolslide” ( Hell, if the pool is sliding, I’ll need a whole pint of Jack.)
“Each bedroom has own bedrooom” (Hello-o-o, Alice, how are things down there in the rabbit hole?)
“Separate pod to build GH” (That should please my pea-sized buyers.)
“Play room for the kiss” (Something tells me this is the back seat of a ’67 Chevy.)
“Ideal for gusts” (That’s great…if you want to live in a wind sock.)
“Impaccably detailed” (Incredibly challenged)
“Stylish pewder room” (Try burning a match.)
“Stone pillars flake driveway” (Flakey agent got stoned in driveway.)
Nothing But Embers (This Week’s Fave):
“From a bygone error” (You have just written your own epitaph.)
“New bd pans inc” – Making a Splash on the MLS
I have two things to say this week: 1. When you drink, you can’t think. 2. When you drink you can’t- … uh, what was I saying? Oh, yes – the MLS. It was so full of bloopers this week that I am led to conclude that happy hour started Monday and never stopped. Read these and tell me if it is any wonder I was driven to throw back a few martinis myself:
Booze ‘N’ Fools
“Free membership to gin inc” (It seems someone else beat us to it, Martini Mary.)
“Grab now use imagination” (That’s what Arnold said to his housekeeper.)
“House has new edition” (Agent lacks erudition.)
“Babblying broke runs in back” (Bumbling buffoon runs amuck.)
“Drop by for cocktail ho” (Oh, is the Sunset Strip for sale?)
Puff ‘N’ Stuff
“Near Sacramento airpot” (I believe his name is Jerry Brown.)
“Claw me for selling” (I’m too busy clawing my eyes out over your spelling.)
“Reduction on mid-century ner Holywod” (Another mid-sixties porn star is looking for work.)
“We can sake your home” (Can I get fried rice with my sake?)
Proof or Goof
“Nice streem” (Said Grandma to Grandpa after his diaper exploded.)
“Nice for dog kids” (Uh, they’re called ‘puppies,” pal.)
“New bd pans included” (Thank you, Nurse Nancy – can you warm those first?)
“Good stable in neighborhood.” (Have you contacted Mary and Joseph?)
“Drawing for plasma” (Is this a blood-bank?)
And This Week’s Winner Is:
“Good school in areola” (Thanks for keeping me abreast of things.)
PROOF OR GOOF, FRIENDS – I’M WATCHING EWE 🙂
“Scalped ceilings” and other MLS hair-raisers
Wait until you see the characters who showed up this week on the MLS…well, at least tangentially. It was a great week for laughs, and many were provided by Jane Peters, Jan Pastras, and Patrick Martin, all from right here in sunny L.A. Thanks to you all for helping me be virulent. Uh, I mean vigilant:
Neither ‘Hair” nor There
“Nice scalped ceilings” (Designed by Tonto Interiors)
“Larder than others in the area” ( Roseanne Barr must be selling her house.)
“Fellow directions” (Since when do fellows ask for directions?)
‘I’ll work garder for you” (Thank you, Blaze Starr.)
“Horse property w/ room for stills” (Uncle Paddy, get off your bar stool – I found the house of your dreams!)
You Say Potato, I Say Kato
“Needs work but not a teard” (Don’t cry for me Argentina.)
“Nice home. Show cokd.” (That’s fairly obvious, Ms. McSnorty.)
“”Manure foliage” (Sh_t for brains agent)
“Gas ready” (Just like Uncle Paddy…)
Quaked and Half-Baked
“So sorry – no seismic ins” (This must be on the Not My Fault Line.)
“New fence gaye” (A fence with a lisp?)
“Famedia room” (Is this a room or an STD?)
“Master now don” (I’ll call him “The Donald,” but there’s no way I’ll call him “master”!
My Fave’ Rave
“Sellr movng away – not going to fix anyting, not repairs, not pest, not cracks, not nothimng.” (Buyer walking away – not going to offer a dollar, not a dime, not a farthing…not nothimng, nit-wit!)
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