Our mum, she's so house-proud

Our good friend (and champion blogger) Mrs. Hillbilly Mom recently wrote about her woes of paying the taxman. Apparently she's not renting enough, or something. Now, I am anything, if not helpful, so I thought I'd publicly offer Mrs. HM some free advice... like "news you can use," or something:

Mrs. Hillbilly Mom can go live in a cave.

I mean that in the nicest sense, of course. These folks out in Festus built their home in a cave, so why not Mrs. Hillbilly Mom? At one point the intrepid cave-dwellers were trying to sell the home on eBay, because apparently they were targeted by a predatory lender, or sabre-toothed tiger, or something. The story is unclear on the precise details, but I suspect mastodons may also be involved somehow.

You be the judge:

Fine country livin'

Anyway, I bet that tucked away in the Spendulus bill, a clever accountant can find an earmark or two for cave-folk. Hell, they've got money for Neanderthals like AmTrack and Chrysler, why not money for people living like actual Neanderthals?

Mrs. Hillbilly Mom could build her cave home a good sight cheaper than the visionaries in Festus, what with already employing an experienced home MiniMansion builder. This thing was built out of dozens of sliding glass doors and spare plywood, and Mrs. Hillbilly Mom has told us all about the plethora of unused auto glass (and autos) she has lying about. I'm sure there are plenty of spare power tools to be found in Hillmomba, lying out in the road, even! She even has the land... once the corpses are cleared out of her sinkholes, that is. It sounds practically shovel-ready, don't you think?

Once the "Spelunker's Biltmore" is built, I've also thought of a foolproof way to see it increase in value. Aside from their current projects of raising chickens and "free" potbellied pigs, naturally. All Mrs. Hillbilly Mom has to do is give the Pony a big box of crayons and tell him to go crazy on the walls. It'll be like Lascaux, only better, because it won't smell like moldy old French dudes, or stinky cheese... theoretically, at least.