SELLER: Pacman Jones
LOCATION: North Chapel Road, Franklin, TN
SIZE: 5,845 square feet, 5 bedrooms, 4 full and 2 half bathrooms
DESCRIPTION: Pacman Jones Estate on 30 acres with a private 2 acre lake with boat docks. Huge 8 stall horse barn…Massive compound with 3 homes…This is the ultimate property in Middle Tn…Less than 2 miles to interstate 65. Priced well below market value.
YOUR MAMAS NOTES: Quick. Somebody bring Your Mama the nerve pills. The big ones.
We have been getting emails about this ass-uglee property since late last week (and it’s now been reported far and wide), but given our recent technological ish–oos Your Mama has been way-layed and delayed in bringing the children up to date on the Franklin, TN estate of Pacman Jones that was recently put on the market for $1,799,900.
As someone who spends considerable time and energy flipping the channel away from ESPN and Monday Night Football, Your Mama didn’t have a clue who the curiously named Pacman Jones is or what he does that warrants him be labeled a celebrity. Thankfully, a gorgeous gal who calls herself Redneck Reba informed Your Mama that Mister Pacman is not a video game character like we imagined, but rather he’s a professional football player and titanic trouble magnet who plays a position called cornerback–whatever that is–and was recently traded from the Nashville Titans to the Dallas Cowboys. The young man was also recently whacked by the po–po for allegedly smacking some ladee in the face in an Atlanta strip club. Whaaat?! And children, this was apparently not the first time the young man got into trouble with the law or, in fact, the first time he was reported to be linked to a serious strip club kerfuffle. Lawhd have mercy, this man would do well to stay away from any and all establishments that serve liquor and utilize greased poles as day-core.
Anyhoo, now that Mister Pacman will be moving to Dallas (or perhaps he already has), he’s no longer in need of this 30.36 acre spread in rural and famous folk friendly Franklin, TN that property records reveal he purchased in July of 2006 for $1,575,000 from ack-tress Andrea Fry and writer/producer Michael Zomber, a couple of industry people with itty bitty resumes on the Internet Movie Data Base.
When Redneck Reba first contacted Your Mama she asked, “Have you seen the ugliest house in Franklin, TN yet?”
And Your Mama thought, innocently, “How bad can it be?”
Well children, as you can see, it’s about as bad as it can be.
Nobody, and we mean no-bah-dee, including Your Mama or our ball crazy pal Fiona Trambeau–a tart who knows intimate things about men who play with balls for a living–expects a professional football player in his early twenties flush with fat paychecks from the Tennessee Titans to live tastefully. But Jeezis, Mary and Joseph does every room need to have puffy black leather furniture and a behemoth wall mounted, porn ready boob-toob?
We recognize that Mister Pacman may not have been inclined to hire himself a nice gay decorator to help him out with his selection of lamps and couch cushions, but couldn’t he have at least asked for a little decorating help from Tawny Tweenerlegs down at the local Strip and Bowl? Seriously.
Granted, the grounds are gorgeous, bucolic and horsey and we do love the private lake which we feel would be a lot less corny and Disneyland-ish if someone flipped the switch to turn off those silly fountain things. But the brick built house is, well, we don’t mean to offend anyone, but it’s an absolute disaster. In addition to the 5,875 square foot main house with it’s 5 bedrooms and 4 full and 2 half bathrooms there are two other residences with untold numbers of bedrooms, bathrooms and black leather couches. In all serious, this would be an excellent home for a man with two or three wives. Or perhaps a woman with two or three huzbands…as Judy Tenuta would say, “It could happen.”
That’s all we have to say on the matter since any more would have us laid out under the table passed out from the hideosity and the gin and tonics. And that won’t do because Your Mama and the Dr. Cooter have reservations at a ridiculously expensive but dee–lishusly tasty Mexican restaurant tonight and we want to be sober for the experience…at least when we get there.
We’re sure some of you are wondering where Mister Pacman is living now that he’s a Texan by profession. Well, we could look it up and ask our people in Dallas, but puppies, we just do not want to know that this man is out there buying and filling up some gigantic house in the suburbs of Dallas with more big beds covered in black fabric, nailing a dozen or more flat screen boob toobs to the walls and sticking a giant hot tub out on the deck in the back.