Here’s a nifty l’il Brooklyn crib we crept around in last week. I clicked on the image of this dump featured on some real estate site and was immediately drawn to the description which screamed, “Don’t let the dimensions fool you! This is the perfect duplex for a family starter home! Needs a little TLC.” Well, how intriguing! We just HAD to see it! How could we be fooled? We're sort of smart, right? No, in this case we were dumb and we were fooled from the beginning. First, I didn’t pay heed to my own wisdom regarding TLC, which really means TDS (total dynamite stick) to blow the property off the face of the earth. Second, I was fooled by the pictures of the property on the website. I should have remembered that wide angle lenses used to photograph interiors twist the life out of reality. Third, I also failed to understand the word "dimensions," used in the description of this shit hole. In this case, what "dimensions" really means is either, only one or two dimensions or, an alternate reality, one where small is big, sad is happy, and evil is good. It's like living in "opposite day." By the way, I'll just say now that this is NOT a house. It's a lego piece from my kid's toy box shoved into a slab of cement on an cruel little block in no-where-land Brooklyn.
Well, after seeing this miniature piece of crap, there’s no way even a fool could be fooled by the dimensions. How can someone be fooled into thinking that a 9x6 ft. living room is anything more or that an 8x5 ft. dining room is really 18x50 ft? Should I be fooled? No, don’t be fooled!
This 8x5 ft dining room has two windows which overlook a creepy, dry patch of grass in the back which is not part of the property. Essentially, this "house" is a small, mean apartment with no front or back yard. You wouldn't even be able to build a small deck off the back because the small dirty, garbage strewn grass patch isn't part of this property. But, whose is it? Does it belong to Jesus? It's hard to say.
Rest easy-peezy in your "master suite," which can only fit a twin bed, a cracked dorm-room dresser and a plastic shelf from Walmart to shove your belongings into. No closets! It's all about maximizing nothing-- but "nothing" is really "something" because in this shit hole, you're living in "opposite day." Here, in this squirrel trap, "cramped" and "discomfort" have come to mean intimacy and comfort, for who can resist sleeping on your partner's back at night, while rats bite your feet which dangle over the sides of your luxurious twin in the darkest hours before dawn. Sign me up! I love being fooled in an alternate dimension!