Editor’s Note: We’ve had a few people call us out. But here’s where we are coming from: If we are going to remain a voice about elevating the industry, then we have to call out photos like this, and we have to point out that the realtor did the client a disservice by having the property photographed in that state. It’s all about the discourse.
It is sad that someone lived like this. And hopefully, this can start a real conversation about how we take care of the elderly and disabled, and we welcome that conversation and hope everyone who took the time to comment today will join us in having it. But the weekly Wednesday WTF has always been about the off-the-cuff, human reactions we have to shocking things. And this is indeed shocking.
So before I begin this week, I need to tell you that all this WTF has not only ruined my browser history for life, it’s also gotten in my head and now I have weird dreams about Cher standing in my bedroom watching me sleep or being forced to clean houses that have been home to 500 cats at once.
Or last night’s dream, where my brain took me to a place where the government tore down all our houses and then made us build them again. But to earn bricks to build a new house, one had to say “fudge.” Only not actually “fudge,” but something saltier and more adult. Every time you said “fudge,” a new brick was delivered to you.
I had a new house in a week.
Anywho, this week’s Wednesday WTF is a local doozy. Seriously, I looked through the listing after Candy sent it to me and immediately scuttled my first choice, and went with this one. Then I took a Silkwood shower.
From the outside, as you can see above, it looks like a nice little duplex. The Fall foliage makes it even look a bit picturesque.
But let’s go inside. I mean, not actually because flea dip is not something I need for my life, but let’s look at pictures of the inside.
Like this door. That’s the front door. It appears that it’s never been cleaned. And that carpet. 
And it’s not an outlier. Hi, stain on the floor of the bedroom. Are you DNA or wine? Please never tell me.
And Jesus, Joseph, and Mr. Clean Magic Erasers, what is up with the doors in this place? I get that fingers are grubby and doors are white, but dude, clean that. Wipe it down. It comes off. And if not, trim paint. My eyes are mad at me now and my gag reflex won’t allow me to entertain the thought about what that brown splotch on the door is.
I mean for the love of Judge Judy, Mr. Clean even looks like this now so just go get you some cleaning product and wipe that down. Wipe it.
And for real, what is this? WHAT IS THIS?
And this?
And this kitchen. I have run out of words but my retroperistalsis hasn’t. What kind of smatchet would allow real estate photos to be taken of this obvious crime scene?
And is this a bedroom, or the room from the movie “Room?”
Listen, I know this says it’s a great investor property, so replacing flooring and painting isn’t necessarily a cash outlay someone might want to make to sell a bargain property.
But I can’t help but think that even minimal cleaning, decluttering and, I don’t know, trash removal might just make people more interested in taking a chance on this house in Peak’s Suburban Addition.
“Bring your ideas and enjoy this lovely area,” the listing says. I think we all know what the first one should’ve been.
