Crack house

Our friends moved in downstairs last week, which was pretty felt great to turn over the brand new space, stop spending money, and start making some. I've been focusing on the upstairs kitchen now, which we had to de-clutter immediately. We are using that sink for the moment because the one in the bathroom hasn't been installed yet. Today I decided to tackle the cabinets (at a certain point, you have to stop eating takeout, and the thought of putting food in these cabinets made me cringe).

I don't know, do you want to guess how many layers of shelf liner there were? Cause there were a lot.

While I was in there, I was thinking a lot about the house behind ours. It's totally huge, and no one is ever there. Emillie's theory is that it is a crack house, or some sort of grow op. The front windows are papered over, an old building permit visible near the front door, and there is a stack of wood and a rolling rack of clothes inside the main side window that we can see through. One night I saw a man in the kitchen with one task lamp on, and there were a bunch of plants that someone seems to have been taking care of, but it seems strange that I have only seen anyone there once. Sometimes I wonder what it's like inside, and what it could become if someone were to actually take care of it.

Look at how mini our backyard is compared to this mammajamma, it's kind of hilarious:

So do you think if I called the cops and there was a huge drug bust, we could get the house for super cheap?