Here's an interesting one for you. While house hunting this past week, I took a lot of pictures so that we could go back and look again at things if we couldn't quite remember what features a particular house may have had.

There was one particular house we went through which was absolutely beautiful on the outside, but once we got in my wife started choking over the color scheme. Being color blind, I wasn't quite as overwhelmed by the pinks and blues that infested the house, not to mention the faggy bunny tiles scattered over the kitchen.

While walking down from the master bedroom, I noticed a clock on the wall with a rather amusing plaque which I had to snap a pic of 'cause it sounded funny.

I didn't think of it until this evening, and thought I'd post it to share with everyone else.

Just out of curiosity, I plugged the name off the plaque into Google just to see if something would pop up.

Much to my surprise, quite a bit did. After sorting through the various sites, I'm left a bit confused.

Here's the plaque.

It seemed funny since this house screamed senior citizen. But after searching for Elizabeth Weinzirl on Google, I'm wondering just what was going on.

Maybe LadyJ can elighten us as to what the deal is, being more in tune with the whole body modification thing, but here's what I came up with.

Apparently Elizabeth was one of the big names in early tattoo history when things were just getting going. Whether she in fact had a lot of tattoos herself or just liked to hang around people that did, I have no idea. Nevertheless, as one can see, they went and named an award after her. (ELIZABETH WEINZIRL AWARD (ENTHUSIAST OF THE YEAR))

Herein lies the confusion. If you won this award, wouldn't they put your name on the plaque? "Dickhead Wirth; Elizabeth Weinzirl Award, 1999", etc.

So my question is, was this the plaque of someone who won the award, or was it hers?

There wasn't a lot of tattoo stuff decorating the house, but then again, this woman supposedly died in 1998. Maybe she was survived by her husband, or her kids were selling off her estate.

Eugene is also a pretty laid back town. Lots of hippies and VW busses. Seems like the kind of place the World's #1 Tattoo Enthusiast would feel at home.

I just want to know if I was in her house. If I had been, I should have swiped the clock and sold it on ebay.

Bunny tiles and tattoos? There can be only one answer: white trash.

What I want to know is what does "National's International" mean?

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Bunny tiles and tattoos? There can be only one answer: white trash.

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White trash with money.

Maybe it was Roseanne's house.

Of course, if any of you out there have bunny tiles and tattoos (the "and" there is vital), please know that I meant "white trash" in the best possible sense.

I'll field this one:

You may very well have been in her house. I looked her up in "Bodies of Subversion: A secret history of Women and tattoo", and it describes her as "a doctor's wife from Portland". According to the book, she died in 1992.

She got her first tattoo in 1947 and she became fairly heavily tattooed. There are naked pics of her (circa the 60's) in the above book that show her work. It's kinda old fashioned circus-lady style art, but looks decent.

She was named fan of the year in 1976 at the first national tattoo convention (houston). In 1981 , the Ntl Tattoo Association created the award that bears her name. She competed in tatooo competitions until her last in Philadelphia at age 90. There was a video documentary made about her in 1989 called "World's number one tattoo fan".

more than you ever needed to know, I'm sure.

Cool. I knew I should have swiped that clock.

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Cool. I knew I should have swiped that clock.

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Bunnies are cool.

These weren't.

Is it just me, or does the rabbit closest to the middle look like Bugs Bunny was at Chernobyl?

It's just you that looks like Bugs Bunny was at Chernoybyl.

That place is fucking Xanadu next to most of the slum dwellings on offer in the DC region. You people wouldn't believe what your $160k - $200k will get you here. No, seriously, you wouldn't.

Like the moldy 1930s "custom Cape Cod" with "gleaming hardwood floors" in a suburb that was apparently built on a wetland because frost seems to have heaved the foundation all out of whack. The driveway is basically rubble, and the whole place overgrown with some kind of toxic mutant thornbush. You can't really stand up straight on the second floor without bumping your head on a charming old light fixture. The kitchen is more like a closet with major appliances shoved into it. And don't ask me why the owner nailed up a bunch of cedar shakes on the inside of one of the basement walls. I don't want to think about that too much. All this and more than I can write here (believe me) can be yours for a mere $168,000!

The place we just made an offer on for 15 grand more is bigger and much better maintained, but still doesn't stack up to what you can find elsewhere at that price. Plenty of space, but no off-street parking, and very basic.

I hope you are all riveted to the screen by this latest househunting tale of mine.

And it's worse than it looks in the picture.

Wow, I got off on a rant there. This thread isn't even about houses per se. Sorry. It's just that after a long weekend of looking at places like this, I start looking for Dr. Kevorkian's pager number.

If you don't mind the commute from Georgia, this property is still on the market. No idea if the Christmas decorations or the "structure" convey.

And your next-door neighbor will love you just for moving in.

Please, no Georgia jokes. We're not all rednecks, I swear.

Good lord do I feel sorry for that guy. I always wondered how houses got to be like that. Now you can see one happening right before your eyes!

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