David: I scan this interior and my eyes begin to tear; considering what it would take to actually organize and sanitize this space. My suggestion: hire one of those crews that come in and clean up after the scene of a grisly crime — they’d have the psychological wherewithal to deal, without going over the edge themselves. In closing I’ve just gotta quote from Evn, the kind gentleman who submitted this pic for us today. I liked his take on the disaster: “It’s like an angel crashed through the ceiling of an anthropologist/conspiracy theorist’s home office.”
Hoo Hoo You shouldnt be so anal – I luv it – my kind of room! In future centuries art historians will discuss this still life and the abundant symbolism of the items on display. They mean something and reflect the zeitgeist no doubt – wish i could see better what. His pose has something of a Renaissance style. He should be hanging in the Met.
I can vouch for the exquisite feelings that accompanies the rediscovery of a long thought lost treasured item under a pile of crap that hasn’t been touched for years. Perhaps he will wake from his carefully composed revery and find his clothes…
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who knew that ed guine was on craigslist?
Title Me: Icarus “soared to high” to a K-Hole
Poor guy with clipped wings. Morpheus (god of sleep) got him in a K-Hole as the only escape. Can’t blame him….
Where do you even begin with this firetrap? The overflowing drawers of paper, the sad face (magenta eyes, mouth..tears pouring with green hair), the brief case/foot rest, the lack of any clean space… all is unsettling.
The lack of clothes makes me think we are experiencing a hot NYC summer with the windows open and whatever cross breeze could come in the room. Got to love the rocks on the coffee table to prevent the wind from taking anything away. The horrid curtains with a view of the building right next door!
It’s hard to say what room of the house this is… the office, perhaps a university? All paper makes me think this is what life was like before computers and the internet. The typewriter is absolutely pathetic – appearing unused.
Check the medicine cabinet since I sense bi-polar disorder in this fellow!
Hmmm… Well, at least he is literate.
It’s bad enough that thanks to craigslist or mancunt I dragged my ass out of my house to be “doorbell trade” for this guy, but then he yells “door’s open!” and I see this. My issue is not so much me acclimating to the absolute chaos of debris, or even wondering if I can borrow/steal a book I like. My first thought would be “good God where the hell are we gonna fuck”? Probably best to simply do a one arm sweep of the contents on the coffee table onto the floor. It really wouldn’t make a difference would it?
I like a guy with a lot of books, because I have a lot myself…but this is ridiculous. Not even ridiculous, but scary. Like Luddite says, “Where the hell are we going to fuck?”
What are all those papers? Ungraded essays? Unpaid bills? What’s up with that straw boater hat on the table? Is there a rug?
I can see why he’s naked, though. He probably couldn’t find his clothes under all this. Oh well, I guess I’ll go back to daydreaming about SuperDaddy….
The only problem with this space is that the walls are not padded. I think this guy can’t get over his lover’s death and continues to look for love in all his deceased lover’s things instead. Man has discovered fire, let’s put it to good use.
Beyond description. While I too have my very own “Den of Disarray” there’s no way in hell, I’d ever user it as the back drop for a ‘come hither’ photo for an online hook-up site. Seriously, I’d have to flip through my stack of Popular Science magazines (No chance at all he has any Architectural Digests, Dwell, Or Metropolitan Home stacks in that mess) to try and find some kind of room that could be used as a backdrop for me to superimpose me, the swivel chair and the briefcase onto… ‘cuz this place is scary.
Obviously far too busy at the gym and hair removal salon to alphabetize all that.
I’m beginning to wonder if this isn’t a “come-hither” shot but more along the lines of a depiction of the aftereffects of an earthquake…
Dude, I’ve been quoted on Lurid Digs! Truly an honor: I’d like to thank God, the Academy, and the psychopath who took the time to roof this twink and thoughtfully arrange his body.
clearly a professionally staged photo. it’s all too perfect in its disarry. despite the apparent clutter surrounding him, if you draw an imaginary X from the corners of the photo, it creates a virtually perfect series of triangles, even the angles of the books mirror the angles of the focal points of his body (e.g., follow the imaginary line from the orange book and it goes right through the line created from his lower left hip to his right hip – same with the open books near his left elbow and shoulder). . . that said, the most obvious point of the photo is fuck him where he lays. ok, maybe not the point of the photo, but . . .i’ll bet he can recite the dewey decimal system while giving a blowjob.
Is that a Capuchin “helper” monkey sitting on the books in the upper left corner? YOU’RE FIRED!… as are you, Evn! God had nothing to do with this. :O)
I once saw Ed Gein live and on an elevator at UW Hospitals and Clinics: he did not exude sexuality , rather he looked like a sweet, daft old man.This photo and the cute man in the midst of it all reminds me of the crazy environments/settings we’d put together for Life Drawing Studio courses..
Ding! Ding! Ding!
Tony not only wins the prize but has stated my opinion far more eloquently than I ever could.
This is staged. We’ve been had. This guys trying to give us the “perfect, untouched, unaffected beauty in the middle of chaos” schtick.
The first reaction is “Marian the Librarian has had a psychotic melt-down.” But at closer inspection, as Tony said, the lamp points to his dick, the paper towels in the corner are leaning at the same angle as his body and all the supposed clutter has a consistent weight and flow to it. Our eyes naturally like displays that go left-to-right. In merchandising, this can be dome by having more “stuff” on the left side and having that “stuff” decrease in some way (size, density, height, etc) as your eye travels to the right.
The massive wall of books/clutter on the left trickles down to less clutter as you move to the lower right corner. And the type-writer, the coffee table and the angle of supposed random book take our eyes from upper left (more clutter) to lower right (less clutter). This is not the crab of a slob or a tweaker. West Side Story has less production value than this performance.
All that to say: She’s the ultimate control freak! If her initial seduction is sooooo choreographed, imagine the stage direction for sex. Say bye-bye to spontaneity. AND!!!!!!! Did you notice that her face is turned away and we don’t get to see any dick……She’s not showing her naughty-bits to just any ole perv cruisin’ the web. This queen will allow an audience with her royal weenie only to whom she wants, when she wants. And like The King and I, her Majesty/Miss Ross will always be above you and you had better never-ever look her in the eye.
Oh yeah, it’s her way or no chocolate highway. There probably ARE dead bodies somewhere in this mess but that’s not because Nora Desmond here is a serial killer. It’s because some of her supporting cast forgot their lines.
And, the bodies were helpful in creating the right height/bulk/filler for certain the piles of book.
I luv my typo this time…..
This is not the CRAB of a slob or a tweaker! Uh, that should be CRAP!
But if this kid ever had crabs, his left ball had way more than his right.
Lucky crabs. At least they got to see his balls.
But why a Mortar & Pestle on the coffee table? Why? Why?
And then….not ONE, but TWO accordions on the floor Ooom pa pa??? I do not understand. Is Don on the phone?
Too much homework Teacher!! I just want to sit under this lamp and try to get a tan!
On closer inspection, I see that one Accordion is a Piano 120 Bass, and the other is a Chromatic. Maybe a reason for the two in the picture. No, wait. No excuses. Arrrrrrgh!
Definitely a staged photo. The minute I saw the pose I knew. I doubt there’s a bi-polar disorder behind all this. My exposure to those folks is that they’re quite tidy. Mucho OCD.
But I digress….
This surely was meant to be a modern Pietà, but the Holy Mother couldn’t wade through the garbage fast enough before the shutter snapped.
Well he might look like an angel, but I met a boy like him. This guy’s apartment was so cluttered there was a trail from the front door to the sitting area where the sofa was shared with clutter, and then on to the kitchen on another narrow trail. I can overlook small things like clutter, but this guy was BORING besides.
If this is staged, it’s crap-tascular. Personally, I think this is not staged and is someone’s crap.
On further reflection…
This is yet another juxtaposition; the chaotic, messy room with the ever-so-artfully posed man in the middle of it. I’m not sure if this is intentional or not, but it’s just strange. Some of the photos on this site are of people utterly unselfconscious of their surroundings, or painfully conscious and trying to make the best of it. Here’s a guy who’s very self-conscious about the pose he strikes, but totally unselfconscious of the room he’s posing in.
If it is purposefully staged, then to what end? I just don’t understand it, but maybe that’s me.
At any rate, the clutter is just too scary for me. Even if I found pale, scrawny, seemingly attitudinal guys attractive, which I don’t. So color me doubly uninterested. I’m still stuck on SuperDaddy from the last photo…(sigh)…I think I’m in love with that one.
way too Pietà for Belin.
Where are Niecy Nash, Trish Suhr, Matt Iseman and Mark Brunetz when you need them? Especially Matt Iseman?
He looks as though he planned to clean up but became so overwhelmed at the prospect that he passed out. And I don’t blame him.
If you really delve, there’s a rhyme & reason to be found here but the sheer weight of all that clutter virtually cancels it out. It has to be his familial home, there’s GENERATIONS worth of crap on display. It’s an embarrassment of riches but, if I was going to be picky, I’d light on the bed sheet-as-curtains solution. Tacky even when the bed sheets are nice but that bargain-basement chintz (with a black towel filling in the gap, no less) is absolutely unforgivable. However, when the digs themselves are this monumentally craptastic, even that seems like mere quibbling.
I stand in awe.
WOW! This is truly….um, something.
Is that a picture of Grandpa Munster to the left of his feet?
Regardless of the boy’s association with the room, the room itself has “tweaker den” written all over it.
I live in Palm Springs; vistas like this are all too common here.
The mortar and pestle? Think about it.
If staged: A very odd sense of humor. If not: Very sad.
He’s so utterly waiflike there in the midst of all his clutter, existential despair oozing from every pale, hairless pore, unable to even look the camera in the eye and see his own desperate search for meaning reflected back in its harsh and unblinking gaze. See how he coyly hides his equipment, a sign of his intense vulnerability and longing if ever I saw one. This is a truly tragic photograph. And he is, no doubt, a deeply, deeply DEEPLY sensitive soul.
I’m going agree with those that say professional and posed. The mess seems more art-directed than actual. All it needs is a crumpled pair of A&F boxers to be an ad.
… the reason the winner of the $35M state lottery never came forward…
You shouldnt be so anal – I luv it – my kind of room!
In future centuries art historians will discuss this still life and the abundant symbolism of the items on display. They mean something and reflect the zeitgeist no doubt – wish i could see better what. His pose has something of a Renaissance style. He should be hanging in the Met.
I can vouch for the exquisite feelings that accompanies the rediscovery of a long thought lost treasured item under a pile of crap that hasn’t been touched for years.
Perhaps he will wake from his carefully composed revery and find his clothes…
Jesus, this is a job for that organizing queen on Oprah.
Only Dr. Phil could save this lost soul.
(Sings a la Niecy Nash) Who wants a clean house?!
With all this mayhem and foolishness going on, this QUEEN decides that now, RIGHT NOW, she needs a nap.