If Walls Could Talk...

To: Current Residents

Boys, you know I have been around a long time; a long, long time. In fact, I’ve been in this same spot probably since your parents were kids. Sure, I’ve had a few facelifts over the years: you guys with the paint two summers ago, and when the landlord decided to go crazy and refinish the floors, but I’m basically the same house. And that’s why I’m finally speaking up. You guys are animals. I’m an old man, and you’re kicking the crap out of me. Therefore, I’ve put together a small list of grievances, in no particular order, of things that you have done over the past two years, which I would like to never take place again. Also, there are a few that I can deal with, just treat me a bit more gently when doing so.

1. Using the hallway as an archery range. It was bad enough last hunting season when Evan would go kill deer and then bleed them out and skin them in the driveway. Sure, it’s asphault, but how would you like me to pour deer blood down your arm? Not very much. So this year, I had a sneaking suspicion that the compound bow he brought back would bring bad tidings. And I was right. I don’t see one of you standing at the end of the hall way having arrows shot at you. And you know why? Because it’s not fun. You literally shot the arrow completely through the wall. And what if Jeremy had been in bed? You would have killed him, or at least injured him profusely. You’re idiots, don’t do that anymore.

2. The writing of cute little quotes on the wall. John, I know you’re all artistic and whatnot, but every single time you read something you find vaguely motivational, try to hold back from whipping out the paint marker and writing in all caps. I know tattoos are hip and all, but as stated, I’m an old man, and it’s just tacky. I do enjoy when visitors sign their name on the stairwell though in sharpie, it tickles a bit and makes me feel popular and whatnot.

3. Hygiene. This one should go without saying, as you’re all not four years old anymore, but really? James, your feet smell like rotting meat. Get some odor-eaters or something stat, or your shoes may disappear for good. And that’s just to start with you. I haven’t even brought up your gas and sweat. I’m surprised girls even look at you, let alone date you. I feel pity for her when she comes over, clean your room, do your laundry and wash your feet. Sam, you need to wash your hair more than once every two weeks. I know, I know, you don’t like how it fluffs up after you wash it, but I gurauntee you that your girlfriend will like it better when it doesn’t smell like greasy dog.

4. Leaving food out. Remember that time you left the salsa bowl on the counter for a month and a half? That’s not sanitary. You would eat dinner, with the old salsa just sitting there on the table, turning black and smelling. I know you could all smell it, and am sincerely amazed at the amount of effort you put into not cleaning; which brings me to the dishes. Seriously? What the hell. There is never a reason to have over forty cups lying around the house with varying amounts of water in them. This isn’t the movie Signs, Joe will never need to “Swing Away” and water-allergic aliens will never attack. I’m 80% sure.

5. Lighting random items on fire. I’m not sure what most of you know about chemistry, but Sam you’re a biology major, you should definitely know better. Plastic, photographs and other miscellaneous trash that you find does not need to be burned on my front porch. It singes the roof for one, and also all of your children will probably have a third arm from the plastic fumes you inhale while giggling.

6. Breaking glass. Evan, I know you love eating popcorn. And not the toss in the microwave kind either, you love eating the fresh kernels that you cook on the stove in oil, and then put your special popcorn salt on. And that’s cool my friend, real fresh. But there’s a clear and present danger every time you do. You are the definition of the term butter-fingers. As the number of glasses, bowls and plates that you have dropped and shattered on the ground grows swiftly, please take heed of my warning. Dry your hands. Don’t absentmindedly carry mason jars in your greasy paws.

7. Soccerball through the window. Sam, you are a soccer star. I know. You are the all time leading assist leader still at your alma mater. However, I am not a soccer star. I don’t have legs you see. So when kick the ball against the front of the house, don’t get all pissed when I “miss” the ball and it goes straight through your window. I am sorry about the glass shards which covered all of your clothes. My bad.

8. Fireball in the fireplace. I’ll admit, the fireplace is made for fires to be in. However, the purpose is to make the lodge warm and cozy during winter nights. The purpose is not to throw lighters as hard as possible into the flames and make them explode into a fireball that licks the ceilings and floors and almost singes off Jackson’s eyebrows. Dangerous and stupid. Oh, and change the batteries on the smoke detectors, because those obviously don’t work.

9. Climbing on the roof. I have a few issues with this. First of all, safety. If you’re gonna climb on the roof, you should buy a ladder. Your stingy selves decided to build one. That is idiotic. Secondly, my roof should have been replaced about 3 times at this point. It has not been replaced, because Mike Powell doesn’t really think it is necessary. So when you have a cookout to start off the year, and there are 40 people up on the roof throwing frizzbees and taking long-distance corn-hole shots, you’re playing with fire (not literally like the fireballs, but you get the point) The creaking you hear is not me enjoying myself. It’s groaning with the weight of lives in my hands.

10. Clean the chimney. It’s been years, and that’s the reason the house smells like burnt newspaper whenever you light it up. Also why the lodge fills with smoke. You guys are just too lazy to really care. Again, check the smoke detectors.

11. Couches everywhere. Do you need to have this many couches. Yeah, you have friends who visit and stay the night. No one needs this many couches. I think you probably have some you don’t even know about lying around. For example, the one in the back basement room. No one has entered there for about 3 months. That loveseat is a breeding couch for mice at this point.

12. Killing of mice. I applaud your effort in the war against mice (WAM). But there are much simpler ways of killing them. After you catch them on the sticky traps, don’t just launch them into the road, or stomp on them. Or cut them with a machete. I should’ve called PETA a long time ago, but you took out the house phone and keep your cells on you at all times. Except for Sam, he loses his in one of the 18 couches every 5 hours. But it’s that new iphone and I can’t figure out how to work it. Technology…

13. I miss the Willard street sign on the stairwell wall. I hope you learned your lesson about letting cops into the house. In this town, if you are in college you are always the culprit, whether you invited them in to investigate a robbery or not. I liked that sign covering the hole in the wall (from moving an unnecessary couch) and it pissed me off when that cop took it. He had no right to steal our stolen property. Well, maybe he did, but I can promise you that sign sat in his backseat for about a year before he just threw it away.

14. The amount of bikes locked to me. I understand 7. That number would correlate. But how in the world did 12 bikes end up in various places and states of disrepair around me? The beach cruiser is half buried in the backyard under the mini-ramp. The earth decided to reclaim that one. As is the Mongoose in the tree line separating me from the neighbors. I have watched the vines slowly choke the life out of it. The goose is no longer on the loose.

15. Repair my locks. You would think when you got robbed you would say to Mike, “Hey Mr. Powell, I know you thought we were joking before when we said that we don’t have keys to any doors in the house, but we were being serious. Could you replace the locks?” Instead, every night the front door hangs open and the side door is jammed shut as tight as you can, due to it being too large for the frame. I didn’t like when those hooligans robbed me, but I thought well maybe something would finally be done about the locks. It was not.

16. Bosom floods when it rains. Another thing to alert the landlord to. It’s funny that you call the back basement room the bosom, I agree. But when it’s filled with an inch deep of nasty water after it rains, it doesn’t feel good. It’s like Chinese water torture for me.

17. Joe and Sam’s makeshift soundproof wall. You two geniuses really went out of your way on this one. The basement is loud. Understandable. There’s no door to your room cause it’s at the bottom of the stairs, your decision. The fact that you ordered sound proof foam and attempted to design a makeshift entrance out of it? Unrealistic. I have heard James’ snores just as much as you guys have. Believe me, there is no material on earth that can block that roar from drilling into your ears.

18. Jackson’s Justin Bieber music in shower. He sounds like he is a 12 year old girl going through puberty. How you enjoy a song that says baby nigh a million times is foreign to me. So how bout when your dancing around singing with him, you turn it down a bit. I mean, geez. Even I have good taste in music and I was around for the disco era.

19. Hulahoops in trees. Not really something you guys did, but the fact that 4 hula hoops have been hanging in the trees surrounding the house for over ten years brings new meaning to the word “unconcerned”. How did they get up there? No idea. Apparently a strong throwing arm with the wind at your back. But please take them down. I feel like I’m surrounded by a rundown amusement park.

20. Clean the deadly bathroom mold. You guys are in college. Living it up, being young men and all that jazz, but this is a serious health issue. For me and for you. There is deadly mold growing in the bathroom. That happens when there is that much wood exposed to open water for the past 40 or so years. It is the reason you cough so much, and also the reason there is black stuff in the cracks that you see. It is not paint.

21. N64. Two points on this. One, even I know that N64’s are technologically obsolete. Secondly, there is absolutely no reason for being that angry over a loss in SuperSmash. Don’t throw the controllers anymore, or yell profanity. And James stop talking in that weird voice to Joe whenever you beat him. It creeps me out.

Now don’t get me wrong boys. I really do love you living here; makes me feel young again. And I am thankful for a lot you have done. The killing of mice, the time you scared that skunk out of the basement (how he got in there I still don’t know…) and the bright yellow surfboard hanging on the front porch which declares my name. John’s artfulness really came in handy there. Just treat me a bit more gently ok? It would be a lot better for both of us.

Sincerely,
The Willard House


P.S. There’s asbestos in the walls… sorry.