Terrible Estate Agent Photos
Terrible photos listed by estate agents/realtors that are so bad they’re funny.
Posting guidelines.
Posts in this community must be of property (inside or out) listed for sale which contains a terrible element. “Terrible” can refer to:
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the photo itself (finger over the lens, too far away, people in the shot, bad Photoshop, etc.)
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the property (weird layout, questionable plumbing, unsound structure, etc.)
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the interior (carpeted bathrooms, awful taste interiors, weird mannequins/taxidermies/art, inflatable pools indoors, etc.)
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the actual listing itself including unusual descriptions and unrealistic pricing. However, this isn’t a community to discuss the housing market in general. This is a comedic community - let’s keep it light.
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Photos can be sourced from anywhere and be any age, but please check they haven’t already been posted.
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Censor any names/contact details of private individuals.
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Mark the post NSFW if it includes nudity or sensitive content
Rules.
This community follows the rules of the feddit.uk instance and the lemmy.org code of conduct. I’ve summarised them here:
- Be civil, remember the human.
- No insulting or harassing other members. That includes name-calling.
- Respect differences of opinion. Civil discussion/debate is fine, arguing is not. Criticise ideas, not people.
- Keep unrequested/unstructured critique to a minimum.
- Remember we have all chosen to be here voluntarily. Respect the spent time and effort people have spent creating posts in order to share something they find amusing with you.
- Swearing in general is fine, swearing to insult another commenter isn’t.
- No racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, xenophobia or any other type of bigotry.
- No incitement of violence or promotion of violent ideologies.
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Friend had cellar spiders in his bathtub in college. Of course they all had appropriate (i.e. stupid) names.
When I was a kid my parents had a shower in the basement. It's normal for my area, a lot of outdoor manual laborers back in the day so having a shower in the basement meant you could come home after work and not drag the stink and filth of work into the house. I didn't do outdoor manual labor but I worked in restaurants, which brings with it its own stink and filth, and I also often got home at like 3am, so I used the basement shower om an effort to keep the house clean and not wake everyone else up. This meant that I had to establish something I called the Basement Spider Detente. We had tons of spiders down there, and I try to be respectful of everyone's right to be alive absent any unwarranted aggression. The deal we reached was as follows: the entire basement and garage belonged to the spiders. They were free to roam, hunt, and generally spide however they saw fit. The shower was off-limits, though, and the penalty for coming within jumping distance of my naked bits was summary execution. I like to think that somewhere near Pittsburgh is a genetic line of cellar spiders that differ from the rest of their species in being extremely hydrophobic. I hope their line succeeds and confounds biologists in the centuries after I go to wherever it is we all must one day go.
I love your verbification of "spide" — and your respect of our eight-legged allies.
My last house was infested with them, and not through lack of trying to get rid.
It was an old stone house and cold damp corners were everywhere.
I woke up with one of the leggy fuckers carrying an egg sac on my face and decided to move out there and then.
They bring luck, the spiders. I like them.
Wait... does that mean your friend never bathed so the spiders would live?
Yes and yes.