I keep finding this weird stuff in my house because it was built sometime right after cavemen developed the first tool. Ok, so it's not quite that old. I exaggerated. I'LL NEVER DO IT AGAIN.

The house was built in 1925. I'm positive that at least 70 people have died in it. I think this is generous because it presumes less than one in-house death per year. And by the way, if current trends continue, there will never be a death in this house again because I have owned it for almost two months now and not a single person has died yet.

I GUESS I'M A PRETTY GOOD HOMEOWNER.

I wish I could say the same for the "screams per month because I thought I saw a ghost" statistic.

This weekend I ventured to my garage to do some thorough exploring. I looked through the garage very briefly when I was considering buying the home but I didn't really look carefully. And since moving in, I haven't ventured out there.

I don't park in the garage yet because it has too much stuff in it and my car won't fit inside. The plan is to make room for the car eventually but that plan has taken a back seat to much more important things like eating and tv.

I sort of assumed that anything interesting would likely have been cleaned out of this place by the previous owner because I think that's just what you do when you move away from a place. I mean, when I left my apartment in December, I made sure to take my Snuggie with me (aka, the only interesting item I own). I did not, however, take with me all of the grime and dust left on every surface.

I don't totally understand the laws of the land, but I half expect the police to come and take me away any day now for how messy that place was when I turned in my key.

Guys. I didn't have time to clean it. BECAUSE EATING AND TV.

Well, as it turns out, the prior owner of my house did not quite get around to removing every interesting thing from it. And I discovered this was true when I found the following machine on Saturday inside the garage.


I'm just assuming that video worked. I don't know. I don't understand the Internets. In case it didn't, here's a picture.


I posted this on what the kids are calling the Instagrams and Strangers everywhere informed me that it was a "grinder" or a "buffer" or something the devil uses to gather souls. I'm still not totally sure what I'm supposed to do with it, but since I don't know what eternal being is responsible for it being on my property, I'm trying to respect it for now by calling it "Great One" and laughing at all its jokes.

Also, these things are in my garage.





My garage is basically like the Antiques Roadshow but without all the old white people.

If I was more of a hipster, I could probably be more excited about all of this. But not enough people are promoting the hipster cause yet for me to want to join in.

~It Just Gets Stranger