You’re talking about what? Bitching about that sale you shot, some sonovabitch who don’t wanna buy a house, some broad you’re trying to screw, so forth. Let’s talk about something important because the good news is there’s a lot of houses to move right now. The bad news is, turns out a lot of them are meth cook sites. Have I got your attention now?

You a nice guy? I don’t give a shit. Good father? Fuck you! Indiana just passed a state law to protect families from purchasing meth houses because, holy shit, there’s a lot of unidentified cook sites on the market? That bother you? Go home and play with your kids. You think this is abuse? How you gonna take the abuse you get sitting in one of thousands of uncleaned homes on the national meth registry getting unsuspecting buyers sick? You don’t like it, leave!

You know what it takes to knowingly unload a home bleeding toxins out of every wall and let the family find out there’s a $10,000 cleaning bill if they don’t want to spend their days with nausea, headaches, and eye irritation? Not to mention the fact that if they don’t clean it their finances are tied up in a poison shitbox? It takes brass balls to do that to a family my friend. BRASS BALLS.

Money’s out there, motherfuckers.

It’s not like there’s a national registry alerting consumers. And what the hell’s a “meth house” anyway? You torch crystal in a standalone garage one time and you’re stigmatized forever. Some kid breaks bad, makes a couple extra bucks for his family, we say that house is no good without some bullshit $50 test kit nobody buys? You know what I got at home? Beautiful baby grand, solid white, like a soul singer’s Caddy. You losers couldn’t afford it on a year’s salary. I play for the wife sometimes. That mean I live in Carnegie Hall?

You can’t play in a man’s game. They’re sitting out there waiting to give you their money. Are you man enough to take the bull by the horns? What’s the problem, pal? I know you’re not on coffee break.