Jessica Fulk’s Insomniac Ramblings: Joe Burrow’s House Makes Me Want to Quit Real Estate and Join the CircusFrom Pigskins to Pastures: The Ridiculous Reality of Joe Burrow’s Horse Farm (Because Apparently That’s a Thing Now)
[Sound of wine bottle opening] Is this… am I even recording? Whatever. It’s stupid o’clock and I’m still awake. Thanks, Joe Burrow.
Houses That Make Me Question My Life Choices
Okay, so… Joe Burrow. You know, the guy who throws balls good for Cincinnati. Got himself a “house.” And I use that term loosely because… [long sigh] Joe Burrow’s house Cincinnati is basically its own zip code. 7,300 square feet? That’s not a house, that’s… that’s… I don’t know. A small country? Can I move there? Do they need a realtor? $7.5 million. [Laughs hysterically] I showed a house today where the big selling point was a new garage door opener. A garage door opener! And I was excited about it! What is my life?
Apparently Quarterbacks Need Horses Now?
And it’s not just a mansion, oh no. It’s a whole Joe Burrow horse ranch. Because of course it is. What, throwing touchdowns isn’t enough? Gotta wrangle stallions too? Meanwhile, I can barely keep my goldfish alive. His name is Bubbles. Don’t ask. I’m not gonna tell you Joe Burrow’s house address, but if you see something that looks like Versailles met Old McDonald’s farm, you’re probably close. Just follow the smell of money and horse… stuff.
Living Large (While I’m Living in a Shoebox)
You know what? I showed a place in that fancy gated community Leawood KS last week. Thought I was hot stuff. Ha! Bet Burrow’s got toilets bigger than that entire house. Do horses use toilets? Is that a thing? God, I’m too tired for this.
Maybe I Should Learn to Throw a Football… or Ride a Horse?
[Sound of head hitting desk] Ow. Where was I? Oh yeah, Burrow’s Joe Burrow horse farm. Maybe I’m in the wrong business. Should I learn to throw a football? Can’t be that hard, right? Just… throw. Or maybe I’ll become a horse… person. What do you call them? Horse-ers? That can’t be right. You know what? Forget houses. Forget Joe Burrow. I’m gonna… I’m gonna start a new career. Professional napper. Or maybe I’ll join the circus. Do circuses still exist? Do they need realtors? If anyone needs me, I’ll be here. Drowning in MLS listings and wondering if I can list my sanity on Zillow. Probably get more for it than my actual house. I need sleep. Or coffee. Or a time machine to go back and choose a different career. Is there a career where you just pet dogs all day? That should be a thing. [Unintelligible mumbling, followed by soft snoring and then a sudden jerk awake] Wait, what? Did I fall asleep? What time is it? Do I have showings today? Where am I? Who am I? …Is this thing still recording?
