David: At first I thought the blue padded mat was part of one of those Barton Patient Transfer Systems, a device that allows folks to maneuver their elderly and addled family members effortlessly in and out of bed. But no, no, no this divan sandwich has been put together by a homeowner who is completely mobile and independent — in fact he’s a bit of a revolutionary. Any and all rules of taste, symmetry and sanity have been jettisoned in favor of this mish-mashed paean to Dadaism — the World War I art movement that rejected logic and embraceed chaos, irrationality, Girl Scout badges and Hollie Hobbies.
Steve: When you mount me, it’s okay to get excited, but not too, too excited because I still haven’t built the wall brace and shelving for my enamel pin collection (every roller coaster between Mississippi and Vermont) and these dolls I found. I’ve discovered that when the motion becomes vigorous or too rhythmic, everything topples down into the space between my electric sleeping bag and the water sofa.
While you’re up, could you get me another Grapico?
File Under:Bedroom Terrors | Violations of Space
18 Responses to 'Post-Modern Dada Daddy’s Play Room'
Leave a Reply
David K. publishes Nightcharm, the only gay porn site ever to be featured on Oprah and regularly compared to Martha Stewart Living.
John Calendo is the Executive Editor of Nightcharm, and a life-long Pop Critic @ Large. His work has appeared in Playboy, Blueboy and boy oh boy everything in between.
Shawn hails from New York and is a member of its young underclass, a little bit Ann Darrow, a little bit Travis Bickle.
Heather Corinna is the undisputed diva of online erotica for chicks. She publishes Scarleteen.com and is a sex guru to thousands of teenagers.
Richard writes the infamous queer blog Sturtle.com . His turn-ons include wainscoting, ZZ Top, and sharp-dressed men. Turn-offs: sectionals, pleated trousers, and pina coladas.
Steve is a lost sort of man who zones out, easily, into the foreheads of strangers. He keeps a blog of his drawings here.
- Bathroom Abominations
- Bedroom Terrors
- Beyond Horrifying
- Calvacade of Calamities
- Closet Catastrophes
- Curb Upheaval
- Dens From Hell
- Dining Room Don'ts
- Floral Attack
- For the hell of it
- Fucked Up Foyers
- Haunted Hallways
- Kitchen Kitsch
- Living Room Wreckage
- Loopy Lighting
- Must Haves
- Something Different
- Suffocating Sofas
- Violations of Space
- July 2008
- June 2008
- May 2008
- April 2008
- March 2008
- February 2008
- January 2008
- December 2007
- November 2007
- October 2007
- September 2007
- August 2007
- July 2007
- June 2007
- May 2007
- April 2007
- March 2007
- February 2007
- Jake Cruise
- MALEFLIX
- Military Classified
- Men at Play
- Sean Cody
- Bi Curious
- Three Pillows
- Boy's First Time
- Nightcharm: Naked Men & Gay Porn Fun
- Dainty Bastard
- G Day
- Gay Sex Magic eCards
- Gideonse Bible
- He Said He Did
- It’s Not You, It’s Me
- Lord Arthur
- Mean Dirty Pirate
- My Cat Threw Up on my Ferragamos
- Put ‘em All on an Island
- Queer Bites
- STARFUCKER
- Wayne’s Nude Musicians
- Yuppie Punk
© 2008 Nightcharm Inc. All rights reserved. No portion of this site may be reproduced without the writen permission of the owner.
Let me be the first to say…”Oh HELL NO!”
Could this be a self-portrait with the camera on a windowsill over a radiator?
no.
“Then Jesus six days before the passover came to Bethany, where Lazarus was, which had been dead, whom he raised from the dead.”
…….but not completely.
I almost hate to say this, but I used a fabric similar to the couch in a quilt. It looked better in the quilt.
Is he lying on something inflatable? If he is, one should hope that that pin collection falls and what he is laying deflates, along with his belly. All those colors and so little time. And somebody needs to tell pappy to trim that bush every once in a while. Thanks Tex. It is nice to know a girl has standards!! Just kidding.
Jeff, that was absolutely the most hilarious comment ever posted on this site!!
When one is spending Christmas with one’s 48 year-old, unmarried, younger sister - someone who was thoughtful enough to provide a portable heater (hinted at in the foreground) for one’s comfort - then it behooves one not to get one’s… business all over her spotless, comfy, colorful futon (otherwise strictly reserved for “company.” Which never materializes). Therefore, a freshly-laundered sleeping bag tastefully draped over an electric, vibrating, full-body heating pad is the very least one can do to show her one cares.
I going to take a wild shot in the dark here and guess that Sis is on a first-name basis with everybody at QVC. Literally everybody.
I’m going to reveal perhaps too much about myself right now and say that everything in this picture makes me nervous.
The sleeping bag is okay IF it were elsewhere and IF I had never seen this photo (proving where it has been), otherwise, were I forced into this room at gunpoint it would be mere minutes before I cracked and divulged secrets that put my loved ones in jeopardy. Any one element is bad–that kind of “hides the dirt well” carpet, the on-sale kid’s room wallpaper, the … oh, it’s all hideous! And all together it’s not even funny. Well, okay, “the idea of” an inflatable sofa IS funny, but the reality rears its ugly head.
I keep trying to come up with logical explanations of how someone could end up with so much hideousness in one room, but everything I can think of fails to explain anything at all. I’m in awe.
Crikey! I got nothing.
Almost perfect, except he is missing the rum drink with the tiny parasol in it!
Ah, papa, how I have missed you! That was the inflatable couch that I was birthed on…I dare say my natal fluids remain there still, forever staining that lucious chambray with my very life essence. A tear comes to my eye when I see the pin collection that my papa spent those long, cold Siberian nights organizing, pouring over his myriad pins and singing songs of his travels. I can still hear his shrill, guttural soprano piercing the frozen night air…Duluth, San Obispo, Dekatur, stumm balalaika, stummmm! And then there were my “cousins” Anya and Veronika who lived on the back of the sofa, watching in haunted reverence as we went about our daily lives. How I miss Anya now as I write…Veronika not so much, on a count of her sharp tongue and penchant for hair pulling. Oh, and not to be forgotten is the wrapping paper papa always had on hand. Papa always said a house wasn’t a home until you had a supply of wrapping paper under the inflatable couch…trust me, it sounds much more lyrical in Russian.
Is it just me, or is papa naked?
The dolls look as if they’re trying to lean out of the photo, and the carpet has almost made me lose the will to live.
this picture is really making my soul hurt.
Frankly, I’m uneasy looking at this pic. A slight feeling of vertigo I think. Do people not realize what happens when you mix too much texture, color, prints and crappy decorating “art” pieces????
and now it’s time for bed, our story tonight will be, “willy, the pubic mound that became a mountain.”
Starting with the calico-print carpet, this pic is a layer-cake of putrid ingredients. Not the kind a pregnant woman might crave but the kind you would ice with shaving cream and serve to an enemy.
You’ve got to climb (and) Mount Everest to reach the Valley of the Dolls.