Biltmore House

Or as we say in 2010 – BiltMO House. Actually, no one says that.

Those tiny people are us. Trust me, you don’t want to see us any closer. I could totally live at the Biltmore. Well, me and 237 servants. WHY don’t I have 237 servants?? Life is so not fair.

The veranda over looking George Vanderbilt’s acreage. I don’t have any acreage!  I don’t know any Vanderbilts! I did, however, eat at the Commodore Restaurant across from Vanderbilt University once. Similar.

The crew taking a break. This was right between the $2.75 sodas and the $4.95 ice cream cones.

RimFire at the Biltmore farm. Hey, somebody had to work off our tickets! 800,000 acres don’t plow themselves.

This poor blacksmith was working hard in the heat. And by “poor” I mean he told us there’s a SEVEN YEAR wait to get things created by him. Is it too late to learn to be a blacksmith? Do blacksmith shops come with A/C?

After leaving the Biltmore, we decided to take the girls mining for gems. I don’t remember how George Vanderbilt made his money, but it was worth a shot.

Keep searching, MoonPie, I’m sure they’re in there somewhere!

Oh well, the Vanderbilt’s we’re not. We managed to have a good time anyway. Who needs 237 servants and 800,000 acres of prime real-estate in Asheville when you can hang with Tania the Mad at McDonalds?

Exactly. I wonder if they’d consider adoption.

One thought on “Biltmore House

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *