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Nobody Cares About
Our House
Progressive Boink Headquarters, Week 1
June 7, 2025
As many of you probably
already know, last week marked a major shift in how we bring you
your P-Boi. In order to give our readers faster, more efficient
Boinkage, Jon, B, and myself all packed up shop and transplanted
to "The Star City of the South," Roanoke, Virginia.
With Bill already somewhere up in Northern VA, and Nick headed
here for school in the Fall, Virginia has officially become the
home of all Ultimo Dragon and Bill Ripken Fuck Face humor.
Although now that I think about it, Bill's so secretive about his
life outside P-Boi that I'm not actually sure if he does live in
Virginia. I like to think that Bill's actually a talking car that
sends Jon his posts by flashing his headlights on and off at the
screen, Morse code style. And sometimes I like to pretend that
I'm a fairy.
Moving on. . .
So as of today we've spent one week altogether here in the House
That Kyle Farnsworth Built. It's just as fun as I could've hoped.
We all cook and clean together, we even send electronic instant
messages to each other from one room away! Isn't that a gas? The
only problem I've found is that the group sex hasn't quite lived
up to my expectations. But I suppose that'll come with time. So,
since the three of us are nothing if not exhibitionists, I've
taken it upon myself to launch the new PBHQ subsection,
documenting our transformation of a plain 2 1/2 story, somewhat
ghetto rental, into the greatest media collaboration the world
has seen since Taminy Hall! Now. . . onward! To the future!
Here it is folks, your first images of the place we now call home. Isn't it sorta creepy, how it sits up on the hill all "crazy cat lady live here"-esque? I loved it at first sight. My natural affinity with symmetry made me twitch a little at the sight of a porch that only wraps around one side, and two mismatched windows, but that's a minor scuffle. My favorite part of that first picture is the tiny bird that lives at the peek of our roof. We live right next to a giant vacant lot, so in addition to the birds we've also been blessed with three stray cats and a gopher. The latter should come in handy for hilarious reenactments of the Caddyshack franchise. Or, you know, digging holes in our lawn and fucking shit up.
Our gopher. A dramatization.
I'm all right. Ain't nobody worried 'bout me.
Before I take you inside, I just wanted to show you Reason #1 This House Was Intended to be Ours. Ready? Okay, here we go.
There's a P dude. On the door. There's no logical or explainable reason for there to be a P on the door, and yet there is one. It's like the house was saying, "Hey! You guys! I want you to live here! Look at me! Come inside! LOVE ME!!" Or maybe the house is evil and the P is on the door so we'd be lured inside and be eaten. PS what the hell is wrong with me?
Okay, moving right
along, here you can see the first large living room from right
inside the door. The Trading Spaces fan in me immediately went,
"OOOOOOH, look at the hardwood floors!" Of course,
having lived here a week I now know that moving into a house full
of hardwood floors sans area rugs can make your feet kinda icky.
Especially since it would appear that the single mother of four
who lived here before us never cleaned the place like, ever.
Still, the room is lovely. The plan is to paint it green, to
match the gigantic lay-z-boy my parents donated, as well as B's
couch. Which I swear to Allah is actually blue, but he and his
mother seem to think it's green. Ah well. HARDWOOD FLOOOOOORS!!
Here's the reverse angle of the last picture, showing our swanky old staircase and entryway. See that little gray box right above the landing? That's the phone. . . box. . . thing. Basically when a phone rings from anywhere in the house, that box rings. So for the first few days after moving in, even before we had phone service, the little box would randomly start ringing. That never failed to be unsettling.
The "second
living room." We're not entirely sure what to do with this
room. We envisioned it as a dining room, but as of right now all
we have in the way of a table and chairs is a FUGLY rattan set
with plaid padding on the seats. I also, like a genius, forgot to
bring the glass for the top of the table. So, this room is kind
of a question mark. Right now it's home to my futon, and several
boxes full of books I'm too wussy to lift, but that I can't empty
out because the shelves to my bookcase are apparently in my
parents garage right next to the GD table top. *sigh*
So, yeah. If any of my little Progressive Boink homebodies have
any ideas for this room, do tell.
Ahh, the kitchen.
Right now it's probably my least favorite room for the house, if
for no other reason than cream colored cabinets and white
appliances. Oh, and see how some of the cabinets look kinda
crooked, like they're falling off? They're not, they're just like
that. It does have a cute little island though, and a crap ton of
cabinet space.
The general consensus (meaning B came up with it, I thought it
was cool and went along with it, and Jon is far too affable to
disagree with anything short of, 'hey Jon, we've decided to rub
our feces on the wall') is that we're going to do the kitchen in
a sort of retro/tiki/pineapple theme. The retro thing has been
done a lot lately, but it works well here because it's one of the
few ideas that will match our ghetto ass cabinetry, and we get
some of those bitchin' plastic lights all the cool kids have
nowadays. As of right now there's nothing in the kitchen but a
sink full of dirty dishes and some tiki shot glasses from
Wal-Mart, but it's soon to be an island paradise.
Just outside of the kitchen is the first of two bathrooms. There's not really any more space in there than the picture shows. Which is fine for a shorty boo like me, but the men have trouble fitting in there comfortably. Not much of note here, honestly. I personally was excited about this bathroom because of the massaging shower head, which is good for happy girl time. But alas, no water pressure. Hey, you guys wanted to know all about my masturbatory habits, right? *ahem*
The back, skanky, staircase. The house is pretty old, so I'm relatively sure this was the servant's stairs back in the day. You know that feeling that an artist has, the incessant need to free themselves of the images/words/ideas that fill their mind? But maybe they're a drunk, or maybe their husband cheats on them, or maybe they've got cancer, and they can't get those things out. They sit, they stare at the canvas, while the urge to purge these beautiful things rapes them from inside. They want to create art, they want to change lives with their creations, but they just can't do it. They just can't make it come out, and it makes the artist want to die? You know about that? It's kind of where I am, trying to make anyone care about my staircase.
HOLY SHIT GUYS A
HALLWAY.
I want to paint the hallway to look like a watermelon, with
bright green walls and pink trim. Jon and B won't let me though,
'cause they don't want me fagging up their house. So maybe I'll
paint it to look like honeydew.
These are the
bedrooms. I grouped them all together because, frankly, they're
all empty and you can't really tell them apart just yet. I got
the big room on the corner, because I'm the prettiest. When I lay
in my bed I have a direct view of the Roanoke Star, which is enough to make me forget that
the bathtub doesn't yet work and the stove is missing two knobs.
I actually really love my room. My plan is to paint it bright
red, cover everything I can grab in mosquito netting, burn
cinnamon incense and pretend I live in an opium den. Though the
beloved collection of stuffed Hello Kitties kind of kills the
illusion.
In one of the closets we found Reason #2 Why This House Was
Intended to be Ours:
Wicked cool, huh?
The smallest bedroom (first on the left) is currently home to B's
office. Remember this, for there is a forthcoming Progressive
Boink Contest involving that room. Also, see that open door? Know
where it leads? It leads to. . .
THE HUGE FUCK OFF
ATTIC WITH OLD ASS GOTH CHANDELIERS!!11
Seriously, y'all. In that picture you can still see all of the
last tenant's crap, but that's the coolest room in the house.
Cathedral ceilings, a big floor to ceiling window, and the
aforementioned choice of lighting. Right now if you go up there
you pass out from the heat, but it's the thing I'm most looking
forward to transforming. You know, once I can figure out how to
cover up raw insulation without bothering to buy dry wall. But
then it'll rule!
And then of course there's bathroom the second. As previously stated, the pipes upstairs are like, shot or something, so there's zero water pressure, and the supremely awesome, footed tub is currently unusable. To top that off, we didn't have the gas turned on until we'd lived here for about five days, which means no hot water, which means we were taking baths out of pots from the stove. For anyone wondering whether washing your hair by dipping your entire head into a soap lukewarm stockpot is a good idea, I'm going to go on record and say that it motherfucking is.
...la de da here we are going back down the main stairs, dur dee dur...
And finally here's
the back view of the house and the driveway. The back makes the
place look a little more dingy, but it's nothing some bleach
water and a power sprayer won't soon take care of.
All in all the place is pretty freakin' cool. Some stuff needs a
fixin', sure, but we've got nice landlords with deep pockets
we'll soon be taking advantage of. Also, this subsection is going
to be a lot more interesting when we've actually started to make
the house livable. Right now everything's bare and reeks of
cardboard boxes. Give us a month, and you'll all be some jealous
a-holes offering up sexual favors to be our fourth roommate.
Until then, peace out!
emily
AIM: Roxymoron87
imsophiapetrillo@yahoo.com