Richard: No, no, no: we will not play the art game. See, Lurid Digs was founded on one important principle: when left to their own devices, homosexualists can throw together some extraordinarily fucked up shit. No matter how bottomless the power bottom, no matter how hungry the cockgobbler, even the gayest swimmer in the gene pool can get confused when it comes to window treatments. We are here to make fun of those homespun interior disasters. But for Matthew Barney to send in such a patently stagy (though beautifully color-coordinated) pic with leftover props from his last installation at whatever museum in Zsghabadistanislavovitch, Ukraine…well, that’s as sad and desperate as an “amateur” viral video from Burger King. Unless Matt got Bjork to take the photo — in which case, we want to see what came next.
David: I have to agree with Richard that the color coordination here is lovely, and generates a genteel charm. Although I always recommend that collectors refrain from displaying their doll troves in public areas, like living rooms and dens — it’s best to keep those items in designated play areas, shelved alongside the dildos and poppers. That said, the peach-colored couch from the late 60s is a real gem and counters nicely the life-killing beige of the drab carpeting. Bravo!
Blndbum: Married, With uuuh, Children…? At least he waited till the one on the left was asleep. Her sister, pretending not to notice, is blushing nonetheless. The third, no face, no problem! When they say, “Can’t host,” this is why.
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Married, With uuuh, Children…? At least he waited till the one on the left was asleep. Her sister, pretending not to notice, is blushing nonetheless. The third, no face, no problem! When they say,”Can’t host,” this is why.
the dolls are, in order: “won’t see, won’t talk, won’t hear”. I just can’t wonder why hahah.
i had vomit once that was the same color as that sofa. but chunkier.
And what of that Tribble sitting near the arm rest?
I can’t stop thinking of that scene in E.T. where the alien hides amongst the stuffed toys…
Blndbum, that’s “Married with grandchildren … maybe great-grandchildren.” Those wrinkly fingers indicate an old man. The velour chair fabric indicates an old man who hasn’t bought new chairs in 40 years.
…but still managed to keep those prophylactic same-fabric sofa arm covers intact after all those years, altho he doesn’t seem quite as concerned with the area in contact with his ass. Deep tufting always reminds me of coffin interiors, but perhaps he’s close to preparing for that final closet in the…ground. Can we at least applaud the presence of actual pubic hair, Silver Threads Among the Gold notwithstanding?
I guess this is the Lurid Digs version of “how many angels can dance on the head of a pin?”
The apricot sofa is bad enough, but the beige carpet is atrocious. The dolls are just disturbing. It brings to mind childhood memories of being dragged on visits to relatives who were, for want of a better term, genteel white trash, and had outdated furniture, ill-advised carpet, and “collectibles” all over the place in an attempt to seem whimsical and free-spirited.
At least there’s pubic hair…but the ring, and the wrinkly hand it adorns, are turnoffs.
Sadly, Bob was unable to convince his potential online trysts that his cock was, indeed, the size of a small baby despite using depth of field camera tricks.
He resolved then and there to try Photoshop next…
Maybe he’s taking Viagra. That cock couldn’t be harder.
This poor fella. When asked to be in an amateur production of ‘HELLO DOLLY’, he totally got the wrong idea.
A peach couch, a wedding ring, and DOLLS… Chris Matthews where are you??
Hey, leave the guy alone. He’s no doubt an Iraq war veteran. The veins on that bloated dick [thank you, Jesus and Viagra] are obviously a thinly disguised map from the Green Zone to the Baghdad airport. No terrorists I know are going to want to examine it too closely. So glad he kept the wedding ring and the antimacassars on the couch. It looks in surprisingly good condition. Those dolls must be very well behaved. No Wee-Wee Babies for him.
Even the dolls can’t bring themselves to look.
My shit-for-brains stepfather had a couch which was absolutely identical to that one but in powder blue and he wouldn’t let anybody sit on it. Ever. Under any circumstances. Which sort of defeated the purpose of having the damned thing in the first place, as far as I was concerned. So, whenever I was home alone, I’d sit on it and jerk off. That being the case, the waves of nostalgia this picture has induced are… overwhelming.
God Bless You, Lurid Digs.
Peach velour simply doesn’t work with this look. Something with a stronger contrast to the dolls would bring out their intrinsic beauty, and add to charming work this tired interior decorator has been working on.
at last we know why tori spelling is no longer allowed in the doll room at her mother’s house….
The poor lonely man just lost his wife and was very alone in his thoughts…
Dicides fuck this I’m going to sit on this sofa that I never could sit on before,with my bare ass and I’m going to shoot my jiz all over the place and I’m going to let these fucking dolls watch. When he finished he left skid marks on the velvet and had to call the cleaners to perk it back up in his remorse for his actions.
But there is one piece of the puzzle that I don’t get who took the picture and who sent it to lurid digs…
And honey LURID it is.
internet barbie took it with her webcam.
Also he should tan those things up a bit
Not lurid, incredibly creepy.
it’s only creepy if the dolls are inflatable.
Wait! I bought a doll that looks just like THAT on QVC, ‘cept they slapped a wig on it, drew a beauty mark on it and said it was from the Marie Osmond collection. I think I’ve been HAD!
I thought the mouth hole was a little high on the face. But at that angle, baby Phallus Jennine drink-ums her bottle all gone.
that’s fucked up shit, dude. lol.
A faceless doll+a Baby Jane doll+the member in the foreground=creepy. The only thing creepier would if Bette Davis was singing “I’m Writing a Letter to Daddy”.
(singing in a cracked, gravelly voice)
I’ve written a letter to daddeee
His address is heaven above
I’ve written, Dear Daddy, we miss you
And wish you were with us to looooove
Instead of a stamp I put kisses
The postman says that’s best to dooooo
I’ve written a letter to daddeee
Saaaying I love yooooou.
The Creep Factor has just been raised. Thank you, Mike C.
It’s what I do.
This looks like every other story about older married couples. She collects dolls. He obsesses over and documents his penis. Throw in a conflict with a son and you have a movie.
Come to House of Capodimonte for beautiful, unique Italian furniture and… uh, home furnishings. You don’t have to make a trip to Europe get the furniture and home decor you want — we go to Italy and handpick the items for our store. So, come by and check out our great selection!
The dolls: hear no Evil, See no Evil and Speak no Evil
Thats creepy!
Ha-ha! I win! I found Waldo among all the other dolls!