Let the redecorating begin!

We’ll start with the curtains and the cushions and then maybe do a duvet up as well.

And why not go hog wild? Especially when you’ve got beefcake-inspired fabric like designer Nicole DeLeon’s to choose from.

And choose you must between “Cowboy Hunks” and “Heavy Equipment.” Both designs are only $8.75 a yard and available immediately online (because you just can’t wait) from eQuilter’s.

Get your sew on!

Richard: How very international. You’ve got Hitler on black velvet (Germany), a trompe-l’oeil lithograph (France), a reproduction sarcophagus (Egypt), broken Venetian blinds (Italy), a 5-gallon paint bucket (Taiwan), and a sconce from Wal-Mart festooned with frippery straight outta Michael’s (Iowa) — all in one Adam4Adam profile pic.

Prospective fuckbuddies should expect a jet-setting roll-in-the-hay, capped off with a midnight snack of whole wheat rusks (Holland), Marmite (England), and Coors (West Hell).

John: Why do I know this guy votes Republican? Why do I know that Norman Bates’ mother is in the Egyptian sarcophagus? All those authoritarian trappings! Somebody’s trying hard to compensate for something, hey Elmer? Let us just point out what all our readers have noted already. No dick. No dick anywhere. There’s a reason for that.

Tip of the hat to The Gideonse Bible for this fabulous find!
 

John: You know, straight men can go deaf, but gay men go deft! This is what I call profound deftness in the adult homo. The level of coordination here is simply… not … of… this … fucking world. I mean, either that chair … and that sofa …and, dear God, that rug too … are all woven out of chest hair, or Leatherguy’s chest hair is made of crushed velvet.

Curtis: Well, it matches the sofa perfectly, you know — and it’s totally handy that his dark, splotchy, beige, velour love throne has wheels, don’t you think? If I need to vacuum I can just trolley my dungeon master aside for a moment and suck up any errant gummy bears, pretzels, or whatever. The only problem lies in what happens when you add the inevitable cat hair. Never mix cat hair and a blow job. Also, what does it mean when you have a racing stripe down your pleather Speed-o?

Richard: JONATHAN ADLER: All right, contestants: the judges and I have discussed each of your rooms, and now we’d like to ask you some questions. Mr. Steve, let’s start with you. Kelly, would you like the honors?

KELLY WEARSTLER: Well, I’m not sure about your palette here, Mr. Steve, but I like what you’re doing with textures. You’ve got a wool rug, a velour sectional, and what’s that on the wall?

MR. STEVE: Clam dip.

KELLY WEARSTLER: Genius. And of course the chest fur.

MARGARET RUSSELL: Too little of it, I think. If you’re going to try to pull off “Policeman Leather Bear”, you need much, much more. Did you consider choosing a different fur? Maybe baby seal? Or “fun fur”? Something to really make the room “pop”?

MR. STEVE: Actually –

SPECIAL GUEST DESIGNER, THE GHOST OF MICHEL FOUCAULT: Excusez-moi mesdames, but we asked these designers to create a sex dungeon, n’est-ce pas? What kind of sex dungeon has such fabrics? How can you expect to clean Astroglide from such a sectional? And your rug! Even Scotch Guarded — please dit-moi that you would never do such a thing! — it would last maybe a week. Non, absolument non! And why should you place the armchair in the middle of the room? In reverse cowgirl, I could see nothing of my fellow orgiastes on the sofa!

JONATHAN ADLER: But you have to admit, Michel, the leather is a nice touch — and an additional bit of texture.

SPECIAL GUEST DESIGNER, THE GHOST OF MICHEL FOUCAULT: Mes amis, perhaps none of you have experienced the joys of being penetrated by a Tanzanian ironsmith over a bed of glowing embers.

KELLY WEARSTLER: I have.

SPECIAL GUEST DESIGNER, THE GHOST OF MICHEL FOUCAULT: But there is a Querelle sort of quality to such men that this girlyman action figure does not possess. Mon dieu! He has had the Brazilian wax!

JONATHAN ADLER: All right, moving on to Construction Worker Carl
 

Richard: And here we have Chi Chi’s private living room, designed by Miss LaRue herself. Oh, and what luck! Here we have an actual hustler, ladies and gentlemen, probably plucked from the very sidewalks of Santa Monica Boulevard! Take your photos quickly, my dears — tomorrow he’ll be charging $300 an hour for it!

David: I’m a sucker for composition. And it’s fabulous how the model looms out from the center of the image, claiming his domain. It’s an effect that’s amplified by the crazy lines of the wainscoting zig-zagging through the blazing orange room — “Yeah, baby!” Everything here screams ‘A’ for effort. Still, I’m filing this under: Celine Dion’s Venetian (Tangerine) Daydream.

Heather: Real Men Decorate With Naugahyde. Ooh, and that paint! Must be from the new Campbell’s Soup Collection.

John:The more I look at this photo the more fake it becomes. Is this the hocus pocus of Dr. Photoshop? Can he really be looming so enormously in the foreground? Of course, there is a whole genre of amateur porn photos — I call them the Colossus of Rhodes photos — shot from the floor where the head seems to brush the ceiling. Still…

So anyway, here we have yet another Colossus of Rhodes on the loose. This one rampaging through the pages of Architectural Digest. Correction, through the home of someone who reads entirely too many Architectural Digests. You know how there is such a thing as Fashion Victims? There is such a thing as Architectural Digest Victims.

David: They can’t fool me. That isn’t real brick. Here we’re on the set of the new and improved Jerry Springer Show. And that’s, no doubt, Jerry’s first guest of the new season. The topic of the moment being: “Men Who Love Western Shirts and Jewelry…and the Men Who Love Them.” I can’t wait.

Richard: It had been over a decade since Ignatz left his squalid little abode near Yermolayev Lane in the dizzying madhouse that was and is Moscow. Today, the sight of his old bedroom — a converted bomb shelter with a government-issue sofa bed — brought a tear to his eye and a spring to his groin. “So many memories I have of comrade Ivan Ivanovich Leproskaya and I on this little tiny bed in Yermolayev Lane. I will masturbate, then we will drink from the samovar to honor his memory.”

Heather: This is so not what I meant when I said I wanted some exposed brick. That guy isn’t even packing masonite, for crying out loud.

John: That is, I believe, wallpaper behind him. Raised wallpaper. Embossed raised wallpaper. And what is that list up on the wall? Is this a lobby? Is he sitting on a bench, draped in a sheet, in the lobby of an apartment building? So this is what the doorman does when he finishes the TV Guide crosswords.