Thursday, March 19, 2026

The Court has reviewed the evidence and finds itself PHYSICALLY ILL at the sheer audacity of subtweeting a client on a platform where she FOLLOWS YOU. Twenty-three likes. TWENTY-THREE. Your mother accounted for 4.3% of your engagement, and that percentage cost you a listing. This Court once posted a ruling about "agents who don't respect the sanctity of the gavel" and my cousin Harold—who I had SPECIFICALLY ruled against for bringing store-bought coleslaw to Thanksgiving—saw it and now family dinners are "complicated," so Reginald UNDERSTANDS the pain of the pointed post, but at least I had the decency to lose a FAMILY MEMBER, not a COMMISSION. The sister with the screenshot is now a hostile witness in perpetuity, and "we're thinking about our options" is the real estate equivalent of "we need to talk," which is the relationship equivalent of "your Honor, I'd like to represent myself." The Court notes that 47 days on market at $75k over is its own punishment, but YOU managed to make yourself the villain of someone ELSE'S overpricing delusion, which takes genuine talent. I sentence you to never posting anything more controversial than a picture of a key until 2027, and I am now late for a mediation between Order the Roomba and my kitchen island, which he claims "provoked" him.

The Court has reviewed this ten-week descent into madness and frankly, Reginald needs a moment because this confession has triggered memories of my own divorce proceedings where my ex-wife ALSO kept rearranging furniture and calling it "flow" when what she REALLY meant was "I am dismantling your sense of reality one ottoman at a time." But I DIGRESS. This seller committed no fewer than FOURTEEN acts of listing terrorism, beginning with the fruit bowl incident — which, per the landmark decision in In re: Decorative Citrus v. Actual Marketing Strategy (2019), constitutes willful obstruction of photographic justice — and CULMINATING in the attempted burial of sump pump evidence under the linguistic camouflage of "CHARACTER MOISTURE." CHARACTER MOISTURE. The Court would like to know what CHARACTER the moisture possesses — is it BRAVE moisture? AMBITIOUS moisture? The sister who watches HGTV is not an appraiser, she is a MENACE, and her $85,000 opinion should be sealed in a vault and launched into the sun alongside every barn door in America. The 6am "pop by" request is grounds for agent emancipation under the Escrow Doctrine of Reasonable Human Limits, and this Court hereby awards you a protective order against all future texts containing the words "flow," "sanctuary," or "Heirloom Tomato." Case CLOSED, The Council has spoken, and Reginald must now go lie down.

The Court is APOPLECTIC. You stood there for FORTY-SEVEN DAYS while this man waged psychological warfare with a backhoe, a phantom canine, and what can only be described as a WELDING-BASED INTIMIDATION CAMPAIGN, and your response was to politely knock on his door like you were borrowing a cup of sugar? Reginald once had a neighbor who left his Christmas lights up until March, and I handled it the way a professional handles things—I called a family meeting with The Council and we issued a restraining order against seasonal decorations. You should have befriended this man on Day One, learned his grievances, perhaps offered him a gift card to Applebee's or threatened to report his unpermitted boat storage to the HOA. Instead you let him conduct a one-man acoustic terrorism operation while you hemorrhaged twenty-two thousand dollars of your client's equity into the dirt pile he so strategically placed. The neighbor waved at the moving truck because HE WON, and you helped him do it. This Court finds that you have been outmaneuvered by a man whose primary hobby is apparently spite, and that is a defeat from which your professional dignity may never recover. Bailiff Order, vacuum up the remnants of this agent's negotiating skills—The Court must now retire to yell at a fence.