You know what? It’s been a long time since we had an OH MY GOD HOW DID THAT EVEN GET IN THE TOILET? AND WHY DID THE REAL ESTATE AGENT TAKE A PHOTO OF IT? AND WHY IS IT IN THE LISTING? AND HOW SHOULD I LIVE MY LIFE TO MAKE SURE I NEVER SEE THIS IN REAL LIFE? sort of post, the kind there used to be so many of here. So, here you go! My new LOLcat overlord picked a doozy! But good news — in the two years I’ve been doing this I finally sort of maybe figured out how to do it as a thumbnail, so you don’t have to click on it if you don’t want to.

Let me repeat that. You don’t have to click on it.

There is no reason to.

It’s gross.

Don’t do it.

I’m slightly ashamed that I even put this post up. My mom reads this blog, you know.

The air around here is 99% pollen and I can barely think. But one more time: You don’t have to click on it.

<—- WARNING: WEIRDER THAN YOU THINK

Lovely Listing: We Look So You Don’t Have To

Found by: Nina

Loveliest comment, by Girl in glasses: Calm down everyone–it’s obviously just a set from CSI

“NSFW?” you say. “What is so Not Safe For Work about Lovely Listing, other than the fact that I shouldn’t be reading blogs at all when my manager thinks I’m compiling workplace impact solutions with social networking in my Outlook spreadsheet?” But no, no, not NSFW. NFSW. Not For Sale Wednesday.

Some people haven’t liked me sneaking in non-listing houses, but I can’t resist because there are so many good freaky houses out there that the homeowners refuse to put on the market for the sake of my blog (selfish bastards). So I’m going to corral them into one day. Your daily Lovely Listing schedule now goes like this:

Sunday:listing
Monday: listing
Tuesday: listing
Wednesday: Not For Sale Wednesday
Thursday: listing
Friday: listing
Saturday: Chairtuday! All Chair, all the time!

So let’s get down to our first NFSW: ta dah!

What is that there, over on the left? It isn’t… it isn’t the toilet, is it?

Oh, my. Yes, it is. I don’t think I could function there. I need a nice solid door with a lock if I’m going to use the toilet, even when I’m alone in the house. My need for la vie privée dans la salle de bains is the only thing that’s kept me out of the military. Well, that and my absolute lack of interest in being in the military, but anyway. Am I crazy for thinking the toilet really shouldn’t be quite so on display?

I am not the only uptight person. This woman has chosen to find a more secluded “little reading room,” if you know what I mean. And you do. And you regret it.

Found by: Anon (via Apartment Therapy)

Somehow I neglected to put up this photo of the rather remarkable toilet from the other day. So here you go! And for those of you who don’t understand who would use a cuboidal toilet, I present the following illustration:

(Apologies to my mom, who raised me better than this.)

Alert reader / nosy person wimple spotted this intriguing bathroom in the house from this post. Cheryl put it well: “I’ve seen that toilet before, in my nightmares. Though mine rarely includes the curtains.”

Why windows, and not walls? I try to think of an occasion when I would ever say “Now! Now is the time to draw back the curtains! Hello, world!” but then my mind goes “no no no don’t think about it no no no think about something nice” and suddenly my mind is flooded with images of kittens. Thank you, mind. Self-preservation is an important instinct.

Loveliest comment, by jackie31337: I still maintain that it’s a toilet isolation booth, and toilet is competing on a game show.

Oooooh. OK, yes, it’s clearly haunted and pink and I don’t know which is worse, but ooooh! Let’s go inside, shall we?

What… what… what happened here? Something nice, right? There was just so much niceness floating in the air from all the nice things that some of the nice sparkles fell on the carpet and turned it had nothing to do with explosive… wait no wait people read this while eating… I mean maybe someone spilled a cup of coffee with great enthusiasm. Let’s go with that.

“To be honest, it needs some work, about $30,000 to make it pristine again plus your labor of love” sez the listing, and I presume FLUSHING THE TOILET would be the “labor of love” part.

Let’s see… if I spend $30,000 on the necessary cleaning supplies… well, let’s just take a peek at what I would have to set up my first day in the house:

scrubby scrubby scrubby scrubby

Found By: Bruce

Loveliest comment, just because I love it when this happens, by Rehab Man: My wife and I are actually buying this house – it’ll be our 19th house we’ve acquired in our Victorian neighborhood. We’re preservationists, and are careful to preserve what’s old while providing modern amenities. This house has some gorgeous woodwork in it from the 1880’s. Unfortunately, it’ll take more than $30,000 to rehab it – the roof alone will be $15k as some one pointed out. At least the furnace works in this horrid winter! I’ve listed our website (www.summitlane.com/1127) so you can follow our progress!

Top Tips for Real Estate Agents: a Year-End List

(in which I reuse old posts for educational purposes)

1. Flush the toilet.

(original post)

2. Put your pants back on before taking the photo.

(original post)

3. Clean up if the house isn’t in good shape. Vaseline on the lens is not the answer.

(original post)

4. Look, we presume there’s a toilet. We don’t need to see it.

(original post)

5. No, really. “Pants on” is a pretty basic rule when it comes to real estate agents at work.

(original post)

6. New toilets don’t cost that much. Maybe you should buy one, if they’re that important to you.

(original post)

7. Keep the photos relevant. I’m sure your pets are charming but, unless they transfer, don’t include them in the listing.

(original post)

8. How’s this for a compromise: include a photo of the toilet only if it’s not where one might logically expect to find it.

(original post)

9. You’re going to keep on using toilet photos, aren’t you? I give up. Is there a support group you could join? Maybe you should start one. You could meet here:

(original post)

Thanks for an excellent year, real estate agents! I couldn’t do it without you. And remember…

10. …it never hurts to include a photo of Chair.

Shhhh. Don’t disturb the toilet — it’s all tuckered out. And just thank your lucky stars you weren’t sitting on it when the narcolepsy hit…

Found By: Colleen

Loveliest comment, by TacoMagic: Funny thing is, this happened to my toilet once.

I was in Texas at a chili cook off… and I think I’ll end the story there actually.

Another for the “Actually I think this is awesome” file. Not that I’d want to live there, because I take fully-functioning indoor plumbing very, very seriously. But look at this! It’s like something out of a Richard Scarry book! The water goes up the pump and then down the gutter into the toilet tank… at that point I’m not certain exactly what happens. If they have a septic system, wouldn’t they have bothered putting in a real line to the toilet? And if they don’t have a septic system, where does.. it all… go?

Found By: Linda L

Loveliest comment, by Lisa W, referring to the propane-bearing chair Magister Ludi found: If you look closely, you’ll see that is chair’s Alaskan cousin, made of sturdy timber found on the land. Alaskan Chair is used to working hard, braving the weather, and generating interest wherever he goes.

Dude. Check it out. The weirdest thing ever is going on here. You see? You see it? So bizarre: the toilet paper is hung on the shower stall door. Crazy!

There might be something else wrong here, too.

(Found By: Mikael V)

I feel bad about how depressed the eleven mattress, one bathroom listing below seems to be making everyone this morning. So here! Found by Pascale (and Mid-C Frank, I see you there) on Curbed: one cheerful* listing. Two seats, no waiting!

* Cheerfulness not guaranteed.