Somewhere along the line my girlfriend granted herself veto power over what I get to wear whenever we go out at night. If she feels like whatever I’m wearing is clashing she only has to say “That don’t match!” and either I have to change my outfit or if I try and argue the point my life becomes an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm.
“That don’t match!” has become one of our inside jokes, a catch phrase that perfectly sums up when we see anything that instinctively was not meant to be together. That phrase also happens to perfectly sum up this house that has the worst 3rd floor addition in The Outer Sunset and quite possibly all of San Francisco.
Oh. My. Lord.
It’s like a tsunami took one house and washed it onto the roof of another house.
It’s like Homer Simposn got wasted one week and built a tree fort for the kids on the roof of his house. And nobody stopped him.
This beauty is on or west of the 47th Ave parallel, where the houses get Twilight Zone weird out here and a part of me loves it for that. It’s a reminder that the spirit of Carville still lives on out here by the beach. You can hire Homer Simpson to build the most ridiculous addition to your home out here and No One Will Stop You.
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