The laws of gravity state that there should be less dust and debris upstairs. Crackhouse knows no bounds.

What do you mean they won't deliver pizza to Garfield? Oh yeah....the robberies.

For the men of the house, this where you go get either a pbr or some old crow. If you are feeling particularly domesticated, this is also where you will stack empties.

For Cassie however, this is where magic happens. It is downright awe inspiring some of the delicious meals, smoothies, and combinations thereof which she concocts within these semi-insulated walls.

Man, I'm real hungry...

But unless your diet consists of bicycles and all 8000 lbs of Steve's fucking shit, you're out of luck.

The chandelier does however set the mood for a romantic evening...or, well, it would if it were wired.

Choosing a color for your dining room is never easy, and some say it can be a reflection on the owner's dining habits. This color really says "Holy shit I'm high on crack."

To the right there is a bathroom behind all 76 of Steve's mattresses. Well, it is not a bathroom as much as it a tiny hole with a toilet and sink. The toilet does work though! But it leaks so you have to shut the water off....and the sink's drain just has bucket under it. It sure as hell is a step up from a Pittsburgh potty though.

You can gauge a living room's progress by the evolution of its ash tray:

First was the floor. Next was the casing of a broken saws all. Finally, your empty pbr can; which means it is a place you will sit long enough to enjoy more than one pbr. Win!

Take a load off on the big dirty leather couch, but if it is between the hours of 6am and 4pm watch out, because odds are Steve is asleep on it.

The single window allows an abundant amount of light and ghetto ass thumping jams to pour in, while the boarded up one keeps up with neighborhood's indigenous roots.

Be sure to cover your drink if you are watching cspan or poker, because if someone or something moves upstairs, dust and crack residue will fall through the floorboards into your delicious pbr or fruit smoothie.

You'll also notice where alex & co. fixed the floor. Great Job!

Oh Hi Marc, come on in. Could you lock the door? No, and the deadbolt. Yeah both.

This is where you walk into crackhouse. The beautiful brown paint sweats a nicotine and crack based, burnt sienna liquid which is both intoxicating and delicious. The plywood covering the bottom third of the door was painted a brilliant black in order to match the rest of the shit in the house.

Welcome to crackhouse.

Yes, that is a no trespassing sign, and no, that is not a yard; it is a burnt down empty lot.

To whoever has crackhouse.blogspot.com and others like it...

Your crackhouse isn't a crackhouse. The crackheads lit fires on the floor in this crackhouse to stay warm and cook the crack. There was a bucket of tranny shoes in the closet. There was a sticky maxim with Sarah Silverman in a gorilla suit on the cover. There is an old, dilapidated bomb shelter in the back yard, in which lives Gandalf the gigantic groundhog. There were holes in the floor, the walls, and the ceilings.

Bottom line, your crackhouse sucks. This crackhouse is the definitive crackhouse. Represent.