Jessica Fulk’s Insomnia-Fueled Rant: Is Joe Burrow’s Mansion Even Real or Am I Hallucinating?Mansions, Millionaires, and Why Am I Googling “Where is Joe Burrows House” at 3 AM?
[Sound of coffee mug clinking] Is this thing on? Whatever. It’s… what day is it? Who cares.
Houses That Cost More Than My Entire Life
So, this Burrow guy… quarterback, right? Or is he a pitcher? No, that’s baseball. I think. Anyway, 7.5 million dollars. For a house. A HOUSE. That’s like… how many regular houses is that? I should know this. I sell houses. I think. Do I? Maybe I dreamed that.
KC’s Got Stuff Too, Right? …Right?
We’ve got… what do we have? Oh yeah, Kansas City luxury homes. Luxury. What even is luxury anymore? Is my IKEA coffee table luxury? It feels luxurious right now. Everything’s luxury when you’re this tired. And… [long pause] what was I saying? Oh! Gated communities in Leawood KS. Gates. Why do we need gates? To keep the non-millionaires out? Am I inside or outside the gate? I don’t even know anymore.
Things to Do Besides Obsess Over Millionaire Houses
There’s stuff to do here. I swear. Like… um… things to do in Parkville MO. Parkville. Park. Ville. Why isn’t it called Parktown? Or Parkburg? Who names these places?
Money Makes the World Go Round (And My Head Spin)
You know what’s really messing with me? That Franklin Ray Michigan thing. Ponzi scheme. Is real estate just a giant Ponzi scheme? Am I part of a Ponzi scheme? What if I’m the Ponzi? Is Ponzi even a real word anymore?
I Don’t Even Know What I’m Saying Anymore
Joe Burrow’s house. It’s big. It’s expensive. It’s… is it even real? Am I real? Is anything real? Maybe we’re all just living in Joe Burrow’s Madden simulation or something. I need sleep. Or more coffee. Or to become Joe Burrow. Can I become Joe Burrow? Is that a thing? Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and be a millionaire quarterback. That’d be nice. If anyone needs me, I’ll be… somewhere. Probably. Unless I’ve turned into a house. Can people turn into houses? After seeing Burrow’s place, I’m not ruling anything out. I’m going to bed. Or to stare at the ceiling and try to remember if houses have always been this expensive or if that’s a new thing. Same thing, right? [Unintelligible mumbling fades out]
