The good brother that I am, for the past forever, I have been helping my sister rehabilitate a money-pit investment property that she bought during a momentary lapse with the crack-pipe.

She immediately dubbed it, “The Farm,” a term I think helped convince her of what she believed to be the property’s potential.  Something called “The Farm’” after all, can’t help but evoke images of cute grazing goats and magnificent galloping stallions, bountiful gardens, fresh air, and John Deere.

I, on the other hand, quickly embraced a much more realistic if not more snarky nickname for the property.  Something that highlighted a bit of its, shall we say, opportunities rather than solely its potential.  “A-Rusty-and-Cursed-Tin-Can-of-a-Singlewide-in-the-Middle-of-a-Useless-Five-Acre-Lot-with-Bad-Juju-and-Stray-Cats-in-the-Crawl-Space-who-would-Tear-into-your-Arm-for-Dinner-and-Claw-at-your-Eyes-for-Dessert” seemed to roll of the tongue after a few weeks of hard labor.  Eventually I would have to shorten it to “The RCTCSMUFALBJSCCSTADCED” for the sake of conversation, but you get the point.

"The RCTCSMUFALBJSCCSTADCED"- A deal at any price!

Let’s fast-forward a couple of years to this summer.  Long story short, but rather than return “The RCTCSMUFALBJSCCSTADCED” back to its former glory and cash in on the bustling real estate market, my sister has decided to actually reside in it for a while after her pending exodus from New Mexico.

But there was still an issue of a leaky roof that needed to be addressed as well as some other (obvious) details, and with her still living in another state and me having about eighteen jobs in addition to my role as a loving husband ans doting father, we agreed on the need to find some help to get it done. I began to ask around, when one of my friends mentioned his handyman uncle was unemployed and just needed something to keep him busy and pick up some extra cash in the process.

I bit, and Billy, err, Steve came out to work with me a few time so I could get a feel for where he was at.  Though by no means a rocket scientist, I got a good vibe that at least he kind of knew what he was doing so I set him free.  Armed with a detailed list of things that needed to get done, a few days later Billy err, Steve gave me a call letting me know that he “had just a small section of the roof to go” and was wondering if I could float him some of the cash I owed him when he was done.

Now, in my defense, he was related to one of my best friends, so I gave it the benefit of the doubt.  But sure enough, the next time I made the trek out to “The RCTCSMUFALBJSCCSTADCED,” expecting to find a finished product, the roof wasn’t even half done, the part that was looked like a blind monkey did it, and inside I found this-

Funny, there didn't used to be a HOLE IN THE CEILING!!!

and this-

No, I don't think that was meant to be an outdoor shower, either.

And to top it off, Billy err, Steve seems to be halfway to Mexico to boot.

***sigh***

So there I was a few days later, festering about being nearly a thousand dollars of my own personal savings deep into my sister’s investment, filling up a dumpster full of a porous roof, a collapsed ceiling, and tiny little bits of my shattered spirit.  That was until I stumbled across this gold mine:

Sorry about the resolution, but then again, how graphic do you need it to be? Pervert...

And now I sit eagerly awaiting a phone call from National Geographic, confident that I will get a handsome return on my own investment, and then some!