Friday, August 28, 2009


Real estate agents have gotten a dirty rap lately. We are rated right up there with psoriasis and Bernie Madoff. Sure, we have some snarky specimens lurking amongst us, but can't that be said of every profession? I decided to make a Warning Signs list of whom to avoid in real estate. Of course, this is Gwen's TGIF list...but what else would you expect from me? Here you go, Agents, Sellers and Buyers - an equal-opportunity help guide to the perfect real estate relationship:

First for the Buyers and Sellers: Never Hire an AGENT Who:

1) Greets you with his right hand, while vigorously adjusting his crotch with his left.
2) Has a coaster protruding from his shirt pocket that says Bury Me at the Lush Lounge
3) Looks at your house and says, "You need to put some lipstick on this pig."
4) Sits on your dog...and enjoys the experience.
5) Removes his sock and uses it to polish his bald spot
6) Says you look like his old cellmate from county lock-up...who was "a hottie."
7) Tells you you look like Golda Meir..."who was a hottie"
8) Continuously asks your lamp, "Whatdya say?"
9) Talks like Julia Child and brags about his Star Jones wig collection
10) Says "I never miss a detail, Betty," ...and your name is Sue

And for the Agents: Never Work With a BUYER Who:

1) Brags that his FICO scores are lower than his double digit IQ
For More DOG BITES AGENT, please click here

Friday, August 21, 2009

Real Estate Tales From The Streets of Hollywood

After a reader read my rant last week, "R U Networking or NOTworking," he challenged me to try a day of face-to-face marketing. (For those of you who cannot recall what that is, it involves getting out of your chair.) Moron that I am, I accepted his challenge and headed out onto the mean streets of Los Angeles to solicit clients. This is the bizarre story I barely lived to tell:
8:00 am: I pop out of bed. (That's early for us showbiz types.) After donning my fake designer duds I head out the door of my Hansel-and-Gretel-size overpriced house, jump into my leased Mercedes, wave to my stoned neighbor, try to back over a slow-moving kid (hey - this is L.A., not Iowa - speed or bleed!), and serpentine down Laurel Canyon with throngs of other Los Angelinos who feel that driving should never distract them from texting. Twenty minutes later, I finally arrive at Rite-Aid Drugs, which is practically walking distance to my house.
9:30 am: I run into Rite-Aid to grab a few of the props I will need for marketing: 1. Red Bull. (I do not drink caffeine because my synapses are already challenged, but I must have it visible in my car in order to look cool.) 2. Gourmet dog cookies and 3. Pepper Spray, which the somnolent salesclerk insists they don't sell. When I tell her I am about to embark on direct marketing and ask if the store sells firearms, she threatens to call the manager. I slip out the door before the manager/actor/bartender/waiter can find me and assault me with a head shot.
That's Not What I Had in Mind, Waldo!
9:45 am: Outside the store a group of people have congregated. With utmost confidence, I approach the group and hand out my business cards, offering to price their homes or answer any questions they may have, as though I am the Oracle of Re-fi. One guy asks me if I will marry him and have his demon spawn, and another turns his back on me and pees on a nearby newspaper stand.

Friday, August 14, 2009

Social Networking Exhaustion Syndrome

I Can't Take It Anymore!!!

Every time I turn on my computer these days there's a party going on in my room - it's called SOCIAL NETWORKING. No, I really am not a curmudgeon - I am just a sleep-deprived individual who knows that if I don't show up at the party I will be considered a geek and I won't get to sit at the lunch table with the popular kids. Aw, c'mon - you know I'm not the only one who feels pressured to be on the web party circuit. Be there or be square. Yes, it's a way to passively market, but I miss the direct approach: "List your house with me and I'll work for you like a monkey on crack."

Yes, I know - if I am going to rant about social networking, then why am I a blogger? Pot, say hello to kettle. But haven't we taken it to excess? Some of my friends are too busy to go out because they need to answer FB messages, and others think they are going out because they are Tweeting someone Down Under. This is not reality, folks - this is virtual schmoozing! It's about as intimate as kissing a light socket, but not nearly as scintillating.
Noogies and Water Balloons

Pardon my crankiness, but I am exhausted. From now on I am going to limit all FB friends to the Cast of Oceans 11-13. But please, even if you "friend" me, George and Brad - no pokes or nudges, I beg of you. What the hell is with the nudging? That's like a cyberspace noogie - and we all hate those. Last week someone actually sent me a water balloon via FB. A water balloon! If it's not filled with Vodka, why bother? Do I LOOK like I have time to play stupid internet games in the middle of my workday? I sent a Claymore Mine back. So much for a good time.

And what's with the "points" you get on some websites? I can't handle the pressure - it's like getting graded. I'm convinced my eighth grade teacher is lurking in the Network Connection parking lot yelling, "What - only 12 points? You pathetic loser - I told you you'd never amount to anything. Here's a water balloon!"

Friday, August 7, 2009

What'd You Say, Willis???

It's difficult being an internet moron. I should know. I am always amazed when tech geniuses speak freely in another language that involves pings, tracking, SEO's and a list of other words that baffle me. I am a fossil - a writer who was told I could write if I blog. Heck, I can barely type, so diving into Word Press and Flickr was about as easy for me as getting a sex change. Before my maiden voyage, I thought "blog" was a state of physical distress caused by too much salt on my margaritas. So here I am, in a world gone mad with technology and new phrases, with no translator.

There must be other morons like me out there. Hello? Are you there? Buck up and admit you are as dense as I am! On behalf of all of us internet-challenged relics, I am herein providing a vocabulary of words as we know them, so that maybe those Geniuses will understand that they must communicate to some of us through our own portal (whatever that is.) Here it is folks - straight off the Rosetta stone - Vocabulary of the Internet Clueless:

Website - Vision after 45 (Or after a Colt 45)

Tags - Fleshy outcroppings that should be lopped off

SEO - Serious Estrogen Overload (Not limited to Pamela Anderson...or Clay Aiken)

Upload - A high colonic

Download - The aftermath of too many burritos

Portal - Location of a Download

Search Engine - A drill performed by those idiots who lost that fire truck in Iowa

Twitter - PeeWee Herman on Red Bull

Flash Drive - Britney on Hollywood Blvd.

Tweet - "Sweet" - as pronounced in West Hollywood (and by Clay Aiken)

Active Rain - A serious incontinence problem