
Holy crap: Patty & Bill.
Patty's a seemingly normal woman whose compulsive shopping and hoarding forced the removal of her kids from her home. So: She could deal with the police removing her flesh-and-blood CHILDREN, but cannot deal with a professional cleaning crew removing a football-field's-worth of rancid clutter? Icing on the cake: The three full-size storage units—those portable Pod things—that Patty spontaneously rents and crams full of rancid clutter she's unable to part with. This is a strange thing to say about someone whose hoarding life involves feces and rats, but hoarding seems like the least of Patty's problems, or at least just the manifestation of something much deeper and scarier (to her, to us, to everybody). "This is just so embarrassing," was the most Patty could say about her situation. Yes, it's so embarrassing to be so crazy your kids get taken away by authorities. SMACK!
Bill's a compulsive shopper/hoarder who fancies himself a handyman. However, his compulsive hoarding of home improvement supplies and various other junk has taken over his life, his home, and at least three rental properties which he owns but has been unable to rent for 20 years due to their being packed to the rafters with clutter. Icing on the cake: The scene where Bill explains to his hoarding coach how a year earlier, his wife tripped on the packed-with-clutter stairs and broke her arm—a story Bill recounts while standing next to the still-packed-with-clutter-a-year-later staircase. Smack smack SMACK!
Acknowledgment: My suspect smacking urges are why I make a good Hoarders watcher but would make a terrible hoarding specialist. Those people are fucking saints.
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