Richard: So clearly, I was wrong: our little friend a couple of posts back did not fall prey to the aesthetic whims of a crack commando unit of lesbian decoratoresses. That adorable young man with the cluttered family room is actually a disco-dancin’, Oscar Wilde-readin’, Streisand-ticket-holdin’ friend of Dorothy, and this is obviously his daddy. (I mean that in the most erotically charged sense of the word.) How else to explain that wall color? Surely only one batch of it was made before the secret recipe was tossed in a turkey fryer and destroyed.
However, unlike boy’s special area, daddy’s rumpus room is nearly 50-50. On the plus side: the dog plaque. If you’re a dog lover, you can’t go too wrong in my book. Also: the gray recliner. Yes, recliner. I know. But that gray is Christian Siriano-ferrocshe. Isaac Mizrahi would call it sophisticated; I call it nostalgic. Add a Nagel print, and you’re in my first apartment of the middle-late 80s. Last on the good list: the black wastebasket (what can I say, I’m a sucker for kitsch) and that giant bottle of Lubriderm or its generic equivalent, which surely came in handy while daddy was watching the Teen Choice Awards.
On the downside: tabbed drapes with curtain-rod sheers (match ‘em, people!), more of that nasty faux-brass carried over from junior’s room, and see-through plastic storage containers, which are never, ever, ever acceptable in semi-public spaces. For one, daddy’s bins contain children’s games, which implies something creepy and unsuitable for family websites like this one. And for two, how can anyone cultivate an air of father-like authority with his collection of mini croquet mallets (or shower curtain rings) laying in plain view?
My: I would hereby like to attest that I am, in fact, a fairly wide-hipped lesbian from Ireland. And boys, seriously, we do NOT paint walls Pussy Pink. I mean, would you paint a wall… I dunno, Penis Purple? Foreskin Fuschia? Testicle Tope?
This room screams closet case with an over-compensating wife. It’s like a colour-coded way of saying “Can’t Host”. Only a straight woman, desperately overdoing the whole “femininity” shtick to convince herself that her marriage ticks all the correct gender-role boxes, could have such an utter taste breakdown. She probably thinned the paint with tears. Alice, Monica, Janet, whoever you are – you have our sympathy but really honey, it’s time to wake up and smell the astroglide (no matter how hard you try to mask it with a Glade plugin).
File Under:Living Room Wreckage
37 Responses to 'The Return of the Lesbian Decoratoresses'
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Personally, I feel that Pepto-Bismol® belongs in a bottle, not on your walls.
And Daddy Bear may be hot, but his leg appears to be rotting off. Eew.
It’s like he’s once again going to go make sweet forbidden love to a very traumatized Rent-A-Center recliner.
Ya gotta wonder what color the outside of the house is… but it’s for sure that there’s a ‘68 Cougar with a Mary Kay bumper sticker parked in the driveway.
what is that thing between his legs?!? i’ve never seen one before. so i have no clue what it might be.
looks like maybe an electrical outlet, but nothing like what is in my house!
is it a glade plug-ins or something?
He got the rash from the bad recliner. Its a combo back reaction of fleas and being allergic to boring decor. And it’s my bet that the lotion on the table isn’t for his leg.
The worst part of this room: Its not bad enough to be good. It IS boring. I applaud the attempt of chic drama by having the drapes gracefully pool on the storage bin, but that’s way too little, way too late.
That thing between his legs looks like a timer of some sort. It wards off pesky burglars by turning his rash on and off when he’s not home. It’s a little known safety tip that most criminals hate rashes. It makes them less attractive to the other inmates once they’re caught and sent to the big house.
Very cagey, Pinky…..very cagey….
Good God, you two! That “thing between his legs” is called a penis! Get out once in a while, why don’t you?
Meanwhile, it looks like Chairy from “Pee-Wee’s Playhouse” has fallen on very hard times indeed since the show tanked. Apparently, that shade of gray is what becomes of lime green velveteen after two decades of rigorous, suburban use. Buyer beware.
Here’s what I love about this room: It’s Fun for the Whole Family. We know the kids play in it because there are their toys in their handy, clear plastic bins, for all the world to see. Mom obviously uses it to try out her home decorating ideas (like candy pink walls with mausoleum gray drapes) and she both creates and hangs her needlepoint there too, as witness her tribute to dear (and doubtless dead) Zeus, the beagle. And last, but not least, Dad seems almost unreasonably proud of the fact that he uses it as his own, personal masterbatorium. (Hopefully, not while the other activities are going on but, based on his expression in this picture, I’m not ruling it out.) Something for everyone.
Take that, HGTV.
He is a trucker, long hauler, with his dog Zeus, you can tell by the picture (maybe bean art) on the pussy pink wall. He has no say on the color because he leaves the decorating to his trannie girlfriend Beatrice. She was going for that womans touch and she knows all real women love pink, ask Reese Whitherspoon. She is still working on the drapes and wants them to be simple but elegant and can not talk him into getting rid of the recliner, She wants to doll the place up but he puts his big foot down and Daddy won’t budge. And she can’t get rid of the toys because he gets his kids every other weekend she would like them to go into the closet but that just will not fly. Beatrice is away getting her woman parts and he has to make due with the lotion for his leg but it works real good as lub. He is getting excited just thinking about sittin the big hairy ass on the fuzzy dark grey poly recliner he can hardly wait.
it took years of repressed-memory therapy for jeffy to pinpoint his terror of pink walls and grey upholstery, and years longer still to appreciate the irony of the neighbor’s name being Moe Lester.
The toothache pink of the walls, the light show through the sheers and the length of the drapes are migraine inducing. If that “thing between his legs” is a timer, then it’s time to get out, not once in a while, but once and for good.
Why, why, why do people insist on painting living rooms pink? They say pink walls give a healthy glow to skintones; but if your skin is that unhealthy looking, it’s time to see a doctor. Pink should only be used in a newborn girl’s nursery if you have no imagination. And if you’re going to keep the storage bins in the living room, sew up a slipcover for them. My god, camouflage the infernal things!
I would award him points for coordinating the pump top of the lube bottle with the brass of the lamp. But the I’m not in a charitable mood because of the pink.
Look!
The drapes are pooling on the storage bin!!!
Genius.
Not sure about the rest of it though.
The Good News is that Aunt Bessie has finally rented her house. She was waiting for just the right person when that Wilson boy and his wife separated suddenly. And she’s sure it wasn’t his fault as she’s never seen him with another woman.
Please don’t fault him for the see-through storage bins. He had to grab what he could. The wife was not too happy to return from her Mary Kay convention only to find her hubby humping his hunting buddy, Matt.
The thing between his legs (below the knees) is a timer. The thing between his legs (above the knees) is his penis. Am I on the correct web site?
Anyway, Sue Hastings lives across the street. She says he is a nice guy and has invited her husband over a couple of times for cards. Mr. Hastings says he can’t wait to play with Wilson again.
And about those walls. Aunt Bessie says she wanted an off white like her cat, Harold, so she took Harold with her to the paint store and asked for a gallon of paint the color of her pussy. She thinks the guy at the paint store must be color blind. Anyway, with her cataracts, she thinks it is a pale pink and doesn’t plan on repainting anytime soon.
That’s all for now.
Dad
Well at least it appears he’s been treating his rash as evidenced by Lubriderm on the side table.
SHAVE THAT HEAD, SIR. And are there nipples? There might be nipples……not sure.
Nashbear – we think alike – too funny
@clint
We call those Raisinettes®
dear god, it looks like Pepto Bismol.
Pepto-pink walls….industrial gray drapes and chair. Yuck. And the neighbors can see his ass through the sheers. He’s concerned about security, hence the timer which presumably hooks up to the lamp. Either that, or it’s hooked up to a vibrator that thrills him every day from 4:00 to 4:47. That chair was probably rescued from the curb; I see things like that in thrift shops all the time. But jeez…the plastic bins are dreadful, and hardly create a stimulating atmosphere. “Hi,” he seems to be saying, “I just happen to be standing around naked, with a hideous rash on my leg, in my pink family room with the kids’ toys shoved in bins behind me. I’m taking the photo quick before the family gets home. Let’s meet at your place.”
At least he has pubes, although the problem leg, and a vague resemblance to my brother-in-law, are enough to send me packing.
@ Dennis and nashbear, i’ve seen that thing between his legs before, i’m pretty sure it’s called a ‘penis’, but i’ve never actually seen one on a lesbian before – very avante garde.
@ jimbo – sorry. you beat me to it, i just saw you post after i posted. damn! i actually have one myself. got it a few years ago. it’s pretty handy and alot of fun, but they’re kinda more trouble than they’re worth sometimes – always going off at the wrong time and all.
it’s a pity we can’t see the focal wall. in homage to his favorite movie, his colors are ‘blush’ and ‘bashful.’
one is MUCH darker than the other.
Tony, I’m confused. I thought lesbians were those guys with wide hips. Aren’t they from Ireland?
danny thomas was a lesbian.
@ nashbear, i’ve known alot of lesbians with wide hips; but none of them were from ireland. for me, the quintessential lesbian feature has always been that wound that won’t heal. they are always licking at it, but it never seems to get better. . . i will let y’all take it from there.
sorry but some of u guys have lost focus of the lurid digs we’re meant to be ripping on… i’m gonna have to take away some of your gay points now.
that house you can just barely make out through the window in the background… it looks just like mine! *gay gasp!*
Darn. And I just about had enough points for a new lava lamp.
Shouldn’t it be Lesbian Decoratresses? Or to be more etymologically correct, Decoratrixes?
Dear latin, I’ve been thinking the same thing. The feminine form of aviator is aviatrix. It’s the English major in me. His name is Dan.
It’s that come-hither-flesh-eating-bacteria that got me.
decoratri? decoratrus? decoratrie?
decoratrus? decoratri?
who cares what they’re called, they’re obviously not here.
may i suck you dick all day long
This room screams closet case with an over-compensating wife. It’s like a colour-coded way of saying “Can’t Host”. Only a straight woman, desperately overdoing the whole “femininity” shtick to convince herself that her marriage ticks all the correct gender-role boxes, could have such an utter taste breakdown. She probably thinned the paint with tears. Alice, Monica, Janet, whoever you are – you have our sympathy but really honey, it’s time to wake up and smell the astroglide (no matter how hard you try to mask it with a Glade plugin).
He was a manly man, doing manly things in a manly way. Then his wife painted the walls pink.
I’m impressed that someone went to the trouble of ensuring that the cables from the timer were secured by taping them to the floor. I’m intrigued to see that the plastic storage bucket contains smaller blue plastic storage containers – genius!
The other storage container troubles me, what’s with the blue and red arrows atop four cylinders. Is it some kind of abacus? an early laptop?
The strategically placed bin, nicely lined, ensures that anything disposed of will reach the bin, and if it happens to be damp or oozing will not destroy the gold flower design lovingly painted onto the steel.I commend that matching of lube bottle dispenser matching the lamp stand and being placed on a doily to prevent any spilt lube from requiring a visit from a french polisher.
WOW! I suppose standing in front of that wall is supposed to make our furry guy appear BUTCH (see the contrast). But that vision fell flat right out of the gate!
I can see why My got the editors’ pick–her comment has me laughing my ass off still!
I’ve yet to enter a home (be it of a trick or a straight couple) that had a La-Z-Boy recliner that was actually appropriate. They clearly scream “discreet”. The reading lamp is circa 1982. How do I know this: my family had one around that time when they were in vogue.
But for the life of me, I can’t understand the placement of that waste paper basket. It’s like he took it from the bathroom and like the plastic bins that holds his children’s toys–he has yet to return it to its proper place.