Home ownership is highly over-rated

There is a lot of shit I hate about owning a home.  At the top of the list is MAINTENANCE.  Yards need to be cut, pools need to be cleaned, roofs need to be repaired, plumbing issues need to be fixed, fucking siding needs to be replaced, weeds need to be pulled, ant mounds need to be killed, trees need to be pruned, A/C units need to be replaced... and the list goes on, and on, and ON.  My head hurts like the dickens just thinking about it.

And, when you belong to a Home Owner's Association with Nazi volunteer inspectors, you get regular "courtesy" notices asking that you kindly replace your leaning mailbox (leaning gives it character!), or paint the tarnished copper awning over your front door (copper is supposed to look like that, assholes!), or repave your cracked driveway (we LIKE crack!), or to power wash the north side of the house to remove traces of mold (mold, schmold... we live in fucking Houston, the humidity capital of the world!), or to remove the "truck with camper" from the driveway (it's a fucking RV, assholes... the Minnie Winnie was highly offended when that notice came).  They're adult bullies.  And, I hate them.

My point here is that our house has become a fucking money pit.  And, when you're poor like us, you just can't afford to keep up with that shit.  One step forward leads to five steps back.  It's always SOMETHING... something broken, something old, something dirty, etc.   Plus, it's annoying as fuck to spend money on things outside of vacations, booze, food and clothes.

So, we're finally giving up on the "American Dream" and moving back into the world of renting.  That's right... when shit goes wrong, we're calling the property managers to fix that shit!  I'ma sit on my fat ass sipping on a pina colada while someone else replaces the A/C filter or fixes the garage door opener.  Life is too damn short to spend every waking minute fixing broken shit and throwing perfectly good booze money away on maintenance repairs.  Screw that crap!  Momma needs a REAL vacation!

Don't worry... we didn't sell his testicles.

I decided to go "minimalist" in my house by getting rid of all the unnecessary crap we don't really need. And what better way to unload my crap than by having a garage sale?  My trash is YOUR treasure!  That's my motto for this weekend.  Nevermind that this decision was another masked attempt at supplementing my shameful income.  And speaking of shame... one thing I am not ashamed to do is exploit my children for cash.  I planted those two little heifers at the end of the driveway with a lemonade/popcorn stand; looking all cute an inviting.  It's a shame my girls aren't old enough to be "hooters girls", otherwise, I would have had them out there prancing around wearing next to nothing and washing cars!  This was the best I could do:
 

The little one dressed herself.

...and it worked like a charm!  We raked in enough cash to start working on our bathroom remodel!  And, the girls even raised $50 selling lemonade!  Not too bad for one day!  I mean, it ain't gonna send them to college, but it'll pay for all the Halloween crap they've been asking for. (Please don't tell them I snagged a twenty out of their tip jar for a bottle of booze.)

I also make a killing off of stuff Hubber doesn't need anymore.  He was a little pissed at first because he's so attached to his crap, but he got over it.  Mostly.

Hubber's Quote of the Day: "Do you wanna sell my testicles, too?!  We can put the left one on the 50-cent table!"

Also, purses are always a big hit at garage sales.  I unloaded about 20 of my old bags!  Hubber was so concerned that I was getting rid of too much...

Hubber: You're getting rid of all these purses?  Do you even have any left?

Me: I kept about five.

Hubber: Wow.  I'm shocked.

Me: Now I have tons of room for new handbags!

Hubber: Oh.  Now, THAT makes perfect sense *shaking his head*

It's taking every ounce of willpower I have in me not to swipe $100 out of the bathroom remodel money for new handbags.