When I moved in with BR four years ago, I was 31 and he was 39. Overnight I went from 600 square feet of normal to 6000 square feet of totally bonkers. Let me sum it up for you:
– spooky, almost menacing-looking mansion way down at the bottom of a ravine.
– creaky, unreliable funicular to take you up to street level.
– scary grotto (if I ever go missing, please look there).
– unfinished moat, accentuated by pylons and caution tape.
– ferocious poodles
– lots of cameras, lots of codes, lots of buttons, lots of Star Wars paraphernalia.
Me: BR, what was the point of building that grotto underneath the pool? I’ve never seen you use it. And I will definitely never use it because it’s basically just a dark, scary underground cave. With water in it.
BR: Blondie, I started that project before you moved in…
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