Our house is now on the market and we currently have not one but two signs that say “I’m gorgeous inside”. Whatever you thought that meant when you saw real estate signs is probably pretty accurate. It has zero meaning. We have a nice house, no lie. But, gorgeous? Hardly.
Today, I was standing in the parking deck catching some fresh air and a breeze when a big white hearse pulled out of the medical examiner’s lair across the street. I emailed the better-half that it was gruesome inside. Then I told him that I will make bad jokes about being gorgeous inside until we sell the house. Be prepared.