Sean: Cheese and crackers! Look at that paint job! It’s like Little Boy Blue joined the candy stripers and decided to celebrate his do-goodery with a wall mural. In a move that would hornswaggle the artiest of art critics, he took a picture of his handiwork (see far left, third row down), framed it and then hung it on said mural as a sort of existential, two-tone mind-fuck that is as perplexing as it is completely and utterly profound. It’s worth noting that the juxtaposition of native teepee landscape and sacrilicious cross gives the room an unexpected 19th-century colonial feel. That said, the lapdog-with-worms-rubbing-ass-on-sectional-couch is the masterstoke to this visual feast. “But where is the boy/ Who looks after the sheep?” Alas, only sexy Santa knows the answer to that question.
Richard: This is truly terrifying. It’s Where Gravity Goes To Die. It looks like a doodle in the margin of my high school notebook come to life (except the dog would’ve been bigger ’cause I adore dogs more than cracky, twinkish Santas). On the other hand, it takes a lot of work to ensure that nothing matches. Brava.
David K. publishes Nightcharm, the only gay porn site ever to be featured on Oprah and regularly compared to Martha Stewart Living.
Shawn Baker is the Executive-Editor of Nightcharm and hails from New York. He is a member of its young underclass, a little bit Ann Darrow, a little bit Travis Bickle.
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I have had bad dreams about War of the Worlds when I see those 1970s arc lamps. I will assume he has screwed in glaring energy-efficient spiral-CFLs in that 5 headed monster for a more romantic effect.
That room appears to have no doors, no windows. He and his animal familiar were dropped into that hideous environment, the lid dropped on, and secured forever. A time capsule to unearth in the future to explain what doomed us by the mistakes of our past. Bad Santa!
Whoa! Holy shet!
Please! Just make it stop!
Much, much worse than people who clearly don’t try at all with disastrous results are those who try VERY VERY hard with disastrous results!
We are clearly talking countless hours with the painters tape (Nota Bene: just because the tape is blue, you can actually use other colors of paint), months of trolling tag sales, countless trips to the Home Depot, all building, minute by minute, to this total and unmitigated horror.
But bad taste is indeed its own punishment: this Santa will have a blue Christmas with or without you. And can look forward to a Blue Presidents Day, a Blue Groundhogs Day, a Blue Valentines Day, a Blue Easter, a Blue Arbor Day, and so on.
When thoughts of suicide inevitably arise, might I suggest an appropriate vehicle for self-slaughter might be cyanide or asphyxiation, just to keep the whole Blue thing going.
This room is intense, in a very very bad way.
I can’t tell, is that painting of the random ass Indian Tepee hanging from the ceiling or is against the wall. Why the hell are those lamps so long? And why is each and every painting crooked? Why so much blue? There is just so many things wrong with this room.
This is just a living nightmare. And the more I look at it the angrier I get, because there just is no reason for it.
I’m pretty sure this is the set design of the next Saw film as it’s just torture to look at.
I’d be willing to bet that sofa is blue, too, but with all the other shades of blue in the room it appears to be forest green. As for the framed artwork on the wall, my guess is a 3.5 on the Richter scale. Now, if it weren’t for the naked bohunk mixed in with the other photos tucked into the mirror, I’d swear this room could only be a straight man’s attempt at decor.
Cirque du So Blue.
Gravity did die. Just look at those tits.
But did Santa’s little helper carry out this abomination ? Or has he just been hired to help add festive cheer? I suspect that this level of bad taste can only come from someone older, but not wiser. Too much crappy stuff from before the time this elf was selling his wares
If we are lucky the plant will start eating this room.
This picture makes me dizzy. i think it’s the horrible wall stripes. I can’t look at the picture for more than 30 seconds before I feel like vertigo is kicking in. holy crap.
it’s sad. I usually like blue.
blue christmas, indeed.
we have peter berlin in the background, billy des moines in the fore, and not one ironically placed mistletoe sprig to be seen.
i can’t keen, so instead i’ll have to sing my despair. in d flat, of course.
i think iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii’ll
tryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
defiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiling
revelryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
Look Kiddies! It’s ” The Island of Misfit Interiors!”
Our island clubhouse displays one BIG design misconception (usually subscribed to by straight guys, Geo) in way too many unfortunate forms: All things that are in the same design food group — “Go.”
All things in the same color family (blue/gold) go with each other. Uh, no…. they don’t.
All things “modern” go with each other. Uh, no…. they don’t.
All things framed go with each other. Uh, no…. they don’t.
All things that the rest of us fear are going to be in the basement rec room of Hell go with each other. Uh,no…. they don’t. Is it hot in here, or is it just me?
Furthermore: A plant doesn’t always cheer up a room, (even in this circus of bad visuals) people do notice the ceiling, not everything framable should be on a wall and finally, dogs spend a lot of time licking their own butts and often roll in their own poop-
If your pooch hangs its head in shame, it has better design instincts than you. Give Rover your credit card, free rein at Home Depot and a paint brush. See what kind of a room he comes up with.
Hell, it couldn’t be any worse.
Cut the poor boy some slack. After all this prolly his 1st apartment in his parents re-converted 1950’s era, bomb shelter. (thus the no windows) Like all 1st apartments, he has had to make due with hand-me-down furniture and such.
The spyder like light fixture is mutifunctional. Grow lights for the plant on right, general lighting in the middle and I’m sure task lighing on the far left. Judging from the bedding on the sofa, it also doubles as his bedroom. Except for the crocked pictures I don’t think he did too bad on his 1st attempt. Least he managed to match the shorts with the hat.
I think RedBackFur nailed it. (Er, I mean his comments hit the mark; I don’t know whether he nailed Santa.) (But I’d be glad to hear the details if he did.) Santa clearly never leaves this room. He’s tidy – see how his bedding is neatly folded? But whenever he runs the ceiling fan it clatters against the lamp, disrupting the carefully thought-out picture arrangement. He needs to do something about that. Right after he fixes those pesky cracks in the ceiling. Oh, and waters the plants.
Thank You @RaraAvis. However, No I haven’t nailed that Santa. Our little hatchling is not of the proper vintage, and like that disturbing Tee-Pee watercolor, not even close to my particular style.
I don’t mind the tee-pee acrylic so much, despite how wrong it is in this room (but then, what isn’t?). What I really mind is the lousy paint job. I mean, it’s one thing to be sloppy, but another entirely to be so lazy as to not alternate the stripe in the corner, opting for the easier paint job instead.
This is truly a lurid dig: a lack of design, bad paint job, bad ceilings, and the ever-present vacuum. What, no dream catcher??
If you’re staging this shot, the dog should have antlers on, a la Max in How the Grinch Stole Christmas. And the “sexy” Christmas shorts pushed down are far too long; these may very well be Grandma’s Holiday bloomers.
No apartment here. That scribe mould is used on the ceilings of modular homes to hide the joints. I will have to think a bit to decide if it is appropriate to shove all your nieces into the edge of a plasti-gilt Grand Mirror DeLuxe along with a beefcake cowboy.
Okay, it isn’t.
This is typically what happens when you let your lover’s kid brother move into your basement. It transforms from a perfectly serviceable basement onto “The Dave Lair” – an uneasy amalgam of “Dave’s” own belongings (often themselves rescued from street corners or frat house trash bins) and whatever he finds lying around down there. In this case, the uneasiness is exponentially compounded by that wretched, muddy, wedding-tent paint job – bad enough in an empty room but inexcusably oppressive in this trash heap. And all the worse as he’s [sloppily] hung not just one but SEVERAL mirrors to echo it and has gone to the trouble of seeking out bedding that actually matches it! It’s a trifecta of hideousness! Throw in The Plant That Ate Pittsburgh and you’ve got digs that only a 20-something heterosexual male [and his sufficiently liquored-up conquests] could love.
And that, my child, is how babies are made.
Merry Christmas, LD!
Ever seen Trading Spaces? This is so totally a room they would design. Except that wouldn’t be paint on the walls, but fabric. Which, what with the dog and all, would be much, much worse.
I’m surprised that they are still falling off the turnip truck.
The stripes were probably meant to give the room the illusion of height. Unfortunately, they draw ones eyes to the ceiling. Bad idea.
I suggest removing all the ‘things’ from the walls as well as the ceiling fan and the plant(for its own sake). Did you know they still sell the spider lamp? Oddly, I’d keep it. This room needs a colorful throw rug (or more dogs) to draw the eye downward. With the spider lamp on “Very Dim”, I think this room can be saved.
It is just so sad that this poor boy has some delusions that posting this picture might possibly snag him a sex partner. Wait, maybe he is going for the blind guys.
David, the blind guys could hang all of the photos and artwork level (and at appropriate heights) and wouldn’t bother with the horrible paint treatment, but would instead opt for a suitable paint color that would not offend their guests sensibilities.
“Mmmm, crucifix doughnuts…sacrilicious!”
—Homer Simpson
Now here I was raised that stripes were supposed to be flattering. And as Tony the Busdriver rightly points out, this is apparently one Ho-Ho-Ho who doesn’t get any packages delivered on Christmas (or any other time of the year) without first quietly sneaking them past the den upstairs where Mom and Dad are usually found sitting on the couch watching reruns of Matlock. While our host shows no hesitation in proudly mugging for his piece-de-repugnance, even his dog is evidently embarassed for him.
… christmas is soooooooooooo last week. can we please get some Happy Nude Queer to start 2010 off with a bang?
guys you really HAVE to see and publish this:
http://s3.amazonaws.com/data.tumblr.com/tumblr_kv6p36El1c1qau4ieo1_1280.jpg?AWSAccessKeyId=0RYTHV9YYQ4W5Q3HQMG2&Expires=1262019784&Signature=Iz4NZ3P4wQGXFbP8YcnFYhIBwoE%3D
you’re wellcome hehehe
I like it. It even gets the dog hot – see, he’s licking himself.
You’re just bitches. He loves his home. He’s obviously proud of it. Based on your comments,,,,he’s happier too.
This is why you should always make sure Santa is wielding the *traditional* sack before you ask him for Art Deco furnishings. If he has to ejaculate up one more kitschy stem lamp, poor old Kris Kringle will end up on dialysis…
Sorry but Sean sucks at observing/commenting. It’s like he is trying way too hard.
Viewing this reminds me of my Tour of Graceland a few years back. One might think that it has to do with the dog who is licking his balls. But trust me, it’s not. This room was deliberately staged in this “Elvisesque” manner to further enhance the allure of the King when he appears in all his “embellishmentness” wowing and titillating his public to near hysteria. Or then, perhaps, it may remind me of the time, when I was a young lad and my friend and I got into my Mother’s bedroom and tried on her oversized Communist boxerlike pink underwear then ran out of the house screaming and laughing as though someone just tried to diddle us.
A first I was going to defend that lamp as I have one, then I noticed that couch….THAT’S MY COUCH!! OMG he shop’d at Seaman Furniture in Jersey in the 90’s too!!!
But at least my walls don’t have strips on them…
( i’m buying a new sofa tomorrow)