The Ugliest House in the World

I’ve been browsing real estate all day for a project that needs my attention.  I ended up wandering from community to community, and at one point, clicking on random states.  I somehow came across what has to be the ugliest piece of property I’ve ever seen in my life but now I can’t look away.  I’m fascinated.

What do you think the architect was going for in terms of inspiration?  Barn chic?  Even the placement of the doors; the proportions of the windows.  How does something like this happen?  Did a bank loan officer approve the construction note?  Is the little white picket fence symbolic?  I feel as if I’m looking at a modern art exhibit I don’t understand.  I can sort of make out the hairstyle of a Japanese Geisha in full white face makeup.

Then, you get to the weird internal hallways that remind me of something from a 1980’s horror movie where the layout of the blueprints had some sort of role in conjuring something that is intent on killing the teenage protagonists, which probably includes a suburban white girl wearing a jean jacket, with a bad perm, and who goes by the name “Becky” or “Tiffany”, which were all the rage during the reign of George Michael and the Beach Boys.  And it’s all sorts of sad because the only reason Becky’s in this stupid house in the first place is because she followed the popular boy she liked in on a dare – and he’s probably named something like “Brad” and is as dumb as a sack of bricks and goes around wearing acid-washed, sleeveless shirts.  Now, she’s being chased by some quasi-demon-ghost-monster from under the Indian burial ground on which the house was constructed, Brad is nowhere to be found, and the black guy is already dead because script writers back then were racist.

Look at the incompatibility of the yellow and tan hues in the carpet color and the wall paint.  It’s horrible.  The bad drywall job on the ceiling. The single light, which is going to be very unflattering compared to a more subtle, smaller perimeter pattern over every single door frame so it at least created an interesting sight line when you approached.

As I kept flipping through the pictures, thinking it couldn’t keep getting worse, I looked something like this:

I want to know what kind of man or woman builds this.  What is their motivation?  This required planning.  It required money.  It required time.  Someone presumably chose to live here.  Think about that.

Do they believe it looks good, or is it something that goes horribly wrong and they feel powerless to stop it?  I once made a school bus with 24+ wheels on it in kindergarten (I figured if a few wheels were good, more must be better), so I can understand how that happens.  It takes on a life of its own and suddenly it’s like an out-of-control boulder crashing down a mountain. Maybe this house was their school bus.

Even the circle drive isn’t a proper circle with good mathematical proportions.  The person who built this house must have been totally unloved because no one would allow their family member or close friend to go through with a decision this bad.  Constructing something like this is up there with trying bath salts.

I … probably shouldn’t be typing this as these glimpses-into-how-my-mind works when confronted with something I don’t understand are one of those things that my friends and family see but should be kept from the Internet.  But I can’t resist because someone must have the answers I seek.  My brain can’t let it go.  I must bring order to this house.  I need to understand this house.  I must know it’s back story.  I might pull the property records and investigate.

If any of you are interested, it is located at [REDACTED AT NEW OWNER’S REQUEST] and sits on five acres.  The listed square footage doesn’t appear to match the pictures, and the style is described as “contemporary”, which makes even less sense as the style is somewhat reminiscent of cattle ranches you saw in Texas back in the 19th century, sans the charm, profitability, and functionality.  Despite having two bedrooms, it boasts four garages that are apparently sealed so they can’t be used.  Now we’re getting into existential and philosophical questions – if a garage can’t function as a garage, is it really a garage?

And the real estate listing is too optimistic.  It says things like, “Potential, potential, potential!!”, “Second level has terrific bonus room”, “Lot is mostly level”.  If I were listing this property, I would write: “I’m as confused as you are.”