(Warning: The following images are graphic and may cause nightmares. And language may be a bit coarse.)
The first call I got from Paul after doing the final walk through was about the carpet.
“It looks like an abandoned meth den,” he told me. “What the fuck did we get into?”
Once we officially received the keys and finally made our way over together, what he described wasn’t far from the truth.
Dust piles, bobby pins, paper clips, feathers, cricket carcasses, paper scraps, countless popcorn kernels (the previous owner apparently loooved her popcorn) and 2 or 3 errant prescription pills was scattered all over. The listing agent’s excuse to Paul? “The maid didn’t have a vacuum. (followed with a chuckle)” Vacuum? It seemed like the entire place hadn’t been vacuumed in a few years.
One note: upon having our offer accepted, we informed the seller that she didn’t need to have the carpets professionally cleaned and stretched back into shape. We were planning to have all the flooring replaced including the vomit-inducing carpet in both bathrooms. (The carpets upstairs varied from room to room.) But not making an effort to vacuum for 20 minutes and instead leave it as-is was disrespectful (my words), lazy and just plain shitty (Paul’s words).
We spent a half hour Saturday morning picking up by hand all the leftovers before we vacuumed. (Last thing we wanted to do was replace our vacuum cleaner.) It was a crap job but knowing that we’d have to face the carpet a few weeks until it was replaced was unthinkable.
As I vacuumed, Paul removed nails from the wall to prep for spackle and painting. But we found another gem that didn’t leave with the previous owner: hanger cozies. What? You haven’t been so bored that you wanted to knit something for your hangers? Yeah, that’s what I thought.
With everything cleaned to a bare minimum, the next thing to set up is the flooring and popcorn ceiling removal.
My Burning Kitchen 
Ew, our house was like that, complete with dog scratch marks, dog poo in the garden, dog stink in the house and a bumper size pack of beads…
I have no idea what you mean by beads but I can just imagine…
Ew…ew…ew! I CANNOT believe how gross those images are (I thought you were exaggerating with the vomit warning…oh, how wrong I was!).
And it’s surprising how nasty a place can get as soon as you remove furniture (I’m assuming you didn’t notice any of this on your first walk-through).
Good luck with the hanger cozies and assorted miscellanea you’ll no doubt encounter!
I thought posting the images would certainly invoke a lot of emotion and also further proof about how disgusting the rug was. We knew getting into the place the amount of work we had to put in. But the state of the rugs after everything was gone is just unacceptable.
omg, carpet in the bathroom that goes completely up to the toilet? thats beyond all comprehension. wow.
Ha! That was what I thought many people would feel. Why, why, WHY??
WOW! I haven’t seen carpet in the bathroom in years! EW! You guys might consider wearing masks when you rip out all the carpet and padding, that’s if you guys are doing it yourselves. No amount of vacuum will ever pick up everything from under carpet and who knows what’s under that one. EW!
When we were touring the house, the carpeted bathroom certainly caught my attention — and not in a good way. I’m counting the days until it is gone.
Paul is speaking my language! Omg, what were they thinking, leaving the carpet like that? Gross! And those hangers? Time to toss those into the bonfire. I’m sure those carpets in the bathroom have things growing in them, amongst the rat’s nest of pubes. Tear those rugs out as soon as possible and wear heavy duty gloves too!
“Nest of pubes” almost made me lurch. Gag.
I am so glad to see gloved hands; I was a bit worried… Ugh! Carpeted bathrooms? That is just wrong. Yup, take the previous advice: heavy duty gloves, and get a box of face masks!
Thankfully, we are not removing the closet. That disgusting task is for the installers. And yes, we each have our own gloves!