November 20, 2009

Richard: Ignore, if you can, the brass festoonery, the faux-rose-and-ivy diorama, and the chutzpah-fueled-but-still-sad DIY valence: they’re clumsy distractions from the room’s overarching theme. As I see it, either (1) our new friend uses that safari hat on actual safaris, which has led to the illegal murder of leopards, cheetahs, and other diva-friendly cats; (2) our new friend is a cosplay novice, and he’s slowly working his way up to a Tigger the Tiger suit; or (3) someone’s gonna look an awful lot like Jocelyn Wildenstein in ten years’ time. Judging from that framed photo of our friend in drag, you can guess where I’m laying my bets.

SUAVE: GrrrrrowL, baby!! Nothing says “it’s a brand new morning!” like a sunrise shining through the dried, tanned pelt of flesh ripped from the body of an endangered mammal. And that animal hide comforter gives new meaning to “slay bed”. MeeeYow! But most of all, I love the framed homage to great felines adorning his room. No doubt the adjoining walls featuring equally elabourate portraits of Eartha Kitt, Simba and Tony the Tiger would evoke a singular response in all of us: They’re GRRRRRREAT!

Note: I went the entire post without any pussy jokes.


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