brining you in a rusty oil barrel. Profit margin boys, profit margin. It's what's gonna keep you alive.
And what's with said farmers bargaining to the bitter end about a random piece of whatever? This is it farmer fella. This is the moment you've been waiting for. This is the reason you've been keeping 5 outbuildings worth of crap for the last 50 years. There are no other sexually ambiguous guys in white vans with camera crews coming by to offer you $100 for an antique mouse trap I promise. Seize the day and sell the shit.
Ghost Hunters, Ghost Adventures, Paranormal State
Frankly, I'm afraid that the ghosts in my house can't tell that you are inside the television talking to other ghosts in an entirely different location. They'll just hear you yelling antagonizing things like "Show yourself!" and think you are talking to them. Which then forces me to yell, "Not you, not you, don't fucking show yourself!" to my ghosts. It gets really stressful so I usually just watch your shows on mute.
Also, I have noticed that you all tend to startle easily. I think maybe if you are prone to shriek and run when you hear a noise, should you find yourself unable to stop yelling and hooting when you think you've found a spirit. Then perhaps, perhaps, ghost hunting isn't the career for you?
Billy The Exterminator.
But most of all, I am utterly delighted when you and your posse walk onto the property looking like Bret Micheals jacked off all over you. That takes guts. The leather, the chaps, the overly rolled brims of your cowboy hats...it's freaking fabulous! Plus you kill bugs which makes you automatically awesome. But I gotta tell you, the accessories are not matching the outfits. Cause when you start attacking a 30 foot high killer ant hill with squirt bottles the badass kinda falls apart. I have two words for you guys - blow torches.
I see your flat cats, and the potty chair you tie yourself to at night and I want you to get help. I'm cheering you on, really! But after 20 minutes of watching you stubbornly bargain to keep a moldy apple core while the county nails a condemned sign on your door I lose all patience.
Hoarder therapists need to set up a fake garbage pick. Lure the hoarders away from their home with promises of a dumpster full of week old yogurt behind the Piggly Wiggly. Then when everyone is safely out of the house - hit the joint with kerosene, matches and a fast controlled burn. Afterwards, set the hoarders up in a squeaky clean apartment furnished by Ikea. Once they catch a whiff of how much better cinnamon buns and OCD smells they'll be over their hoarding ways. Badaboombadabing, done.
You're welcome TV. You're welcome. Now please excuse me, because I heard a rumor there is a show about people who fight over the contents of storage units coming up and I am STOKED!