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OFFENDED EASILY: Don't Look


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Something about attics porn and contraband they just seem to go together. I once found a bag of weed and a bong inside an attic hatch ... I didn't know how to report that !? I hate finding porn in the attic ... it makes the attic inspection take forever!

They don't call me an inspector for nothin'.[:-magnify

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The funniest thing I found in an attic was a set of steps up to a high louver in a gable wall over a garage. The top one was actually a small platform. There was also a little shelf attached just under the louver. Not seeing an immediate reason to build steps to a louver, and being the curious type, I climbed the steps and discovered that you could see down through the louvers straight into the 2nd floor bedroom window of the house adjacent to, and slightly below this one. Since there were no windows on the side of the home I was inspecting, the occupant of the home beside it probably didn't bother to close the blinds when in the bedroom. My guess was that some perv used to sit up there trying to catch a show. I assume that the small shelf he added was for binoculars or a camera.

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Originally posted by AHI in AR

The funniest thing I found in an attic was a set of steps up to a high louver in a gable wall over a garage. The top one was actually a small platform. There was also a little shelf attached just under the louver. Not seeing an immediate reason to build steps to a louver, and being the curious type, I climbed the steps and discovered that you could see down through the louvers straight into the 2nd floor bedroom window of the house adjacent to, and slightly below this one. Since there were no windows on the side of the home I was inspecting, the occupant of the home beside it probably didn't bother to close the blinds when in the bedroom. My guess was that some perv used to sit up there trying to catch a show. I assume that the small shelf he added was for binoculars or a camera.

Were the steps sticky?

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Originally posted by AHI in AR

The funniest thing I found in an attic was a set of steps up to a high louver in a gable wall over a garage. The top one was actually a small platform. There was also a little shelf attached just under the louver. Not seeing an immediate reason to build steps to a louver, and being the curious type, I climbed the steps and discovered that you could see down through the louvers straight into the 2nd floor bedroom window of the house adjacent to, and slightly below this one. Since there were no windows on the side of the home I was inspecting, the occupant of the home beside it probably didn't bother to close the blinds when in the bedroom. My guess was that some perv used to sit up there trying to catch a show. I assume that the small shelf he added was for binoculars or a camera.

That could be a scene in a Tarantino movie. And while the perv is tending to his nightly business in the attic, he witnesses the woman in the house next door--whom of course the perv thinks he's in love with--get executed by her boyfriend.

The perv can't call the cops, 'cause how does he explain how he saw what he did? So he sits in the attic, watching the crime scene being worked, and decides he should mete out justice all by himself . . .

But then one of the cops notices the glow of the perv's cigarette through the gable louvers and his house is searched. The perch in the attic is discovered, and the perv is suddenly a murder suspect.

As the perv is led from his house in cuffs, he recognizes one of the cops milling around outside. The two lock eyes, and the perv realizes the cop is the person he saw murder the woman next door.

Or something like that.

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Originally posted by Bain

Originally posted by AHI in AR

The funniest thing I found in an attic was a set of steps up to a high louver in a gable wall over a garage. The top one was actually a small platform. There was also a little shelf attached just under the louver. Not seeing an immediate reason to build steps to a louver, and being the curious type, I climbed the steps and discovered that you could see down through the louvers straight into the 2nd floor bedroom window of the house adjacent to, and slightly below this one. Since there were no windows on the side of the home I was inspecting, the occupant of the home beside it probably didn't bother to close the blinds when in the bedroom. My guess was that some perv used to sit up there trying to catch a show. I assume that the small shelf he added was for binoculars or a camera.

That could be a scene in a Tarantino movie. And while the perv is tending to his nightly business in the attic, he witnesses the woman in the house next door--whom of course the perv thinks he's in love with--get executed by her boyfriend.

The perv can't call the cops, 'cause how does he explain how he saw what he did? So he sits in the attic, watching the crime scene being worked, and decides he should mete out justice all by himself . . .

But then one of the cops notices the glow of the perv's cigarette through the gable louvers and his house is searched. The perch in the attic is discovered, and the perv is suddenly a murder suspect.

As the perv is led from his house in cuffs, he recognizes one of the cops milling around outside. The two lock eyes, and the perv realizes the cop is the person he saw murder the woman next door.

Or something like that.

John--

I'm concerned about you. That story seemed to pour forth from your fingertips waaayyyy too easily.

'Fess up. Which one were you: The perv or the cop?

Or maybe you simply have a better imagination than I do.

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Originally posted by AHI in AR

Originally posted by Bain

Originally posted by AHI in AR

The funniest thing I found in an attic was a set of steps up to a high louver in a gable wall over a garage. The top one was actually a small platform. There was also a little shelf attached just under the louver. Not seeing an immediate reason to build steps to a louver, and being the curious type, I climbed the steps and discovered that you could see down through the louvers straight into the 2nd floor bedroom window of the house adjacent to, and slightly below this one. Since there were no windows on the side of the home I was inspecting, the occupant of the home beside it probably didn't bother to close the blinds when in the bedroom. My guess was that some perv used to sit up there trying to catch a show. I assume that the small shelf he added was for binoculars or a camera.

That could be a scene in a Tarantino movie. And while the perv is tending to his nightly business in the attic, he witnesses the woman in the house next door--whom of course the perv thinks he's in love with--get executed by her boyfriend.

The perv can't call the cops, 'cause how does he explain how he saw what he did? So he sits in the attic, watching the crime scene being worked, and decides he should mete out justice all by himself . . .

But then one of the cops notices the glow of the perv's cigarette through the gable louvers and his house is searched. The perch in the attic is discovered, and the perv is suddenly a murder suspect.

As the perv is led from his house in cuffs, he recognizes one of the cops milling around outside. The two lock eyes, and the perv realizes the cop is the person he saw murder the woman next door.

Or something like that.

John--

I'm concerned about you. That story seemed to pour forth from your fingertips waaayyyy too easily.

'Fess up. Which one were you: The perv or the cop?

Or maybe you simply have a better imagination than I do.

Actually I'm cursed with a vivid imagination. When I walk down the grocery aisle and the youngsters are moving way too slowly 'cause they think it's cool, and the seniors are moving way too slowly 'cause they have to, I envision jars of peanut butter and salad dressing flying off the shelves like guided projectiles, knocking everybody out of my way.

I've had some minor victories with writing, and I'm currently working on a novel, so I suppose I haven't given my imagination a chance to atrophy. Probably I should, since the last novel I wrote was rejected by pretty much every agent and publisher in New York City. Then again, what's life without a dream or two lurking in the storage closet of one's brain?

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Originally posted by Bain

Actually I'm cursed with a vivid imagination. When I walk down the grocery aisle and the youngsters are moving way too slowly 'cause they think it's cool, and the seniors are moving way too slowly 'cause they have to, I envision jars of peanut butter and salad dressing flying off the shelves like guided projectiles, knocking everybody out of my way. My grandfather was sorta like that. Only he wanted to have a large ramrod that would extend out of the front of his car to push other drivers out of the way. Then again, we all knew he was simply impatient. Tragically, he died before he could add that exquisitely engineered function to his snot green Olds 98.

I've had some minor victories with writing, and I'm currently working on a novel, so I suppose I haven't given my imagination a chance to atrophy. My imagination -- small to begin with -- withered to about nothing a long time ago. My wife hates to watch movies with me since I can't quite fall into the whole "willing suspension of disbelief" mode that you have to employ to watch most movies these days. Well, those that she wants to watch, anyway.

... Then again, what's life without a dream or two lurking in the storage closet of one's brain?

We agree on that! I dream of a young, willing, supple...

Ummm, never mind.

Seriously, though, I admire anyone who has any functioning creative ability. I am definitely lacking in that area. Good luck with it. Also, My grandfather truly accomplished a tremendous amount, despite only having a formal education that ended after the 8th grade when his father died and he had to go to work to support his family. I admire him greatly.

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