Buddha is a big fat selfish jerk

Lagunatic wants to sell this house. Like, badly.

The real estate market is not co-operating at the moment and it’s making me crazy.

Not like, ha-ha crazy, but really certifiably insane.

Last weekend we had a showing. My parents were in town to help me out after getting Lasik (this is purely a disclaimer to any wierd typos in this post – I still can’t see for shit) so the night before the showing I had an idea.

We were going to pray to Buddha. Not just any Buddha, but specifically the one who lives with us. Well, his head does, anyway, I’m not sure if he ever had a body. He’s three feet high, made of metal, and sits on the ground beside our stairs.

He’s gorgeous.

Anyway, I informed my mom of my plans and she gave me that look…the cock-browed look of a mother trying to figure out how she went wrong with her child. I keep telling her to stop giving me that look or her face will stick like that.

So, here was the plan; I would gather up the family, offer up some gifts to Buddha, force everyone to kowtow before him, require everyone to touch foreheads with him and kiss him on his sweet cold nose.

By the way, I’d had wine. Not that it would have made any difference…I’m pretty sure sobriety woulndn’t have changed the course of events much. Except maybe for the slurring, but whatev’s. Doesn’t everyone slur when praying?

Eventually, I cajoled everyone down to Buddha’s cozy little spot with his spectacular view out a big window to the twinkling lake in my backyard (it twinkles because of the Nuclear Power Plant…not because of the sun). I brought the gifts and placed them before him: a bowl of uncooked brown rice (for his health and hunger), a Thomas the Train flashlight (in case he ever got scared in the dark), a couple of quarters (so he’d be able to play some pachinko), a pencil (so he could take notes about his life here and share with his shrink), and a box of soon to be out of date instant Thai noodles (do I really need to explain that one?).

With the entire family on their knees (or standing up…and trying to quietly escape) I asked that we all start with an Om in unison.

This is when I start wishing I’d taking audio.

Anyway, so, with the cacaphony of five different pitched Oms in the background, I led the prayer…which went something like this:

“OmmmDearBuddhaWhoLivesInOurHouseAndWhoWeBoughtInAFurnitureStoreIn

GodOnlyKnowsWhereFor75%OffOmmmm.

OmmmmPleaseAcceptTheseGiftsWeLayBeforeYouOmmmmmmmmmm.

OmmmmTheMoneyWillHelpYouPayYourBillsAsLongAsThey

Aren’tTooHighOmmmmmmmmm.

OmmmmTheRiceNeedsToBeCookedBeforeYouEatItOr

You’llGetABellyAcheOmmmmmmm.

OmmmmmThePencilNeedsToBeSharpenedTooButIDidn’tHaveA

SharpenerHandySorryAboutThatOmmmmmm.

OmmmmmTheFlashlightDoesn’tWorkAtAllButLookHowDamnCuteItIs

AndIShouldWarnYouThatItIsKindaStickyOmmm.

OmmmmIHopeYouLikeInstantNoodlesOmmmmmmm.

OmmmmmmPleaseDearBuddhaAccpetTheseGiftsAllWeAskInReturnIs

ThatYouHelpSellThisGoddamnedHouseOmmm.

OmmmWhenThePeopleComeToSeeItTomorrowPleaseWorkYour

VoodooMagicOnThemOmmmm.

OmmmmThankYouOmmmmI’mGoingToKissYourNoseNow

OmmmmMwuahOmmmmm.”

Then, everyone kissed his nose and bid him goodnight.

After that, everyone decided to keep their distance from me for a while.

The next morning I awoke early to get the house all show-ready. I kissed Buddha again on the nose and asked how his night had been and if he’d like an Alka-Seltzer. I think he intimated in the negative, so I cleared the gifts from in front of him and got on with the day.

The house is still on the market.

That fucker didn’t even try to help out.

My mom pointed out that maybe he actually likes it here….and I can accept that.

We have another showing today. I just asked all of my Facebook friends to pray to the Real Estate Gods for me.

I wonder if Real Estate Gods like instant Thai noodles?