David: I’ve never understood why people continue to live with Christmas decorations and gewgaws on display throughout their home (and bathroom?), past, say, January 7. Isn’t the end of the first week in January supposed to represent the conclusion of Lent or the Advent or something like that — the day when the three wise men showed up with the incense? I dunno, I get confused.
Regardless, let’s just say, hypothetically, that this photo was shot in December. FAIL! There’s nothing more brain-scrambling than mixing holiday garland with ethnic arts and crafts. In Bali, where many of these items were purchased, it’s considered a foible worthy of punishment by tribal elders. So think twice people! And consider: If this is what this gentleman’s bathroom looked like during Christmas, we can only image how the rest of the home was decked out. Perhaps he’s neighbors with this fellow — where the garland just wouldn’t stop? Poor dears.
File Under:Bathroom Abominations
44 Responses to 'Holiday Gewgaws Past Their Shelf Date'
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There’s hardly interior enough to critique. Although that Balinese frog on the ledge jars horribly. The rest of the decor seems to go somewhat together (including the color scheme). I love that he’s wearing his glasses so he can aim that piddly little stream of piss. Honestly, if you’re into that sorta thing and you have someone to take the photo isn’t it more enjoyable to piss on each other? This leads me to conclude that a) this photo was taken using a timer and therefore, b) it’s still Christmas in this home because it’s never Valentine’s Day.
And the tiki gods looked on with disapproval….
Again, relatively speaking, not up to Lurid Digs standards of excellence. Lose the odd Balinese Frog, the oversized and underpowered fountain in the bathtub, and that lame bough of WalMart Faux Pine, and add a couple of lit candles and this could almost work.
I like this one. You want a piss-pig to be nasty: e.g. kneeling in a filthy public urinal. Instead you get $400 eyeglass frames, Ralph Lauren paint, and a bizarre collection of tchkotches ranging from Xmas kitsch to Chinese made knockoffs of pre-columbian artifacts. Way incongruent. What’s the statement here? That a piss-pig can be… pissy?
The mask, the fish, Christmas Teddy and the phallic statues are tired. (This is the 2nd one guys, where there’s not that much to critique.) The wall color is nice.
So is the fountain and the water slide.
A pre-colombian dildo. Who knew?
just so pleased we don’t have to look at the previous photo anymore..
Shit in the woods, piss in the tub. The habits of the rare tchotchke bear.
…photographed in his natural habitat, even.
The above “Anonymous” comment was mine. Dunno why my name didn’t pop up as it always has B4 but I wanted to out my comment for one reason: I am seeking recovery in other areas of my life where anonymity is requested. My bitter, evil sense o’ humor is not one of those areas.
From what I can tell, the bathtub contains no water. I find this a rather odd way to add water to it. And that being said, for the Pre-Colombian Gods’ sake, light that damn holiday scented candle. No one needs to catching the offensive effluvia of recycled beer in such a posh loo.
“Feh! Sylvie’s Toby is meshugana. Oy! Oy gevald, what a nebbish!” This is what happens when Jews don’t keep kosher. First with the Christmas tree, then bacon bits in your salad, the next thing you know…this. Before you know it he’ll be chasing the Faygelahs in the park.
p.s. Mazel Tov, Dash. Hope you can still have the anonymous sex. Stay safe.
Like so many, I too was mystified at first by the concept of monopolizing one’s bathtub with fountain statuary. But then, some purchases are made with the heart and the heart knows what it wants so I’m sure that the moment Our globe-trekking homeowner caught sight of the hauntingly realistic “The Accountant Reclines” at some Genoan auction house or flea market or other, it was an instant “Must Have” – and who can blame him? Once he gets it [you should pardon the expression] erected in the rock garden out front after the long spring thaw, it will all make sense [I hope].
(P.S., Three guesses as to what that soapstone monkey to far left is used for. And the first two don’t count.)
@ GEO: The only time I wanna know a date’s name is if I accidentally see it on a gift’s charge receipt at Barney’s. And I always play safe.
Thanks for the good wishes and the correct spelling of “Faygelahs.” Being Jewish by osmosis (in retail 30 years) it’s a word I use a surprising amount of times. (well, I live in SF so maybe not SO surprising….) Its nice to have the correct spelling.
Who knew?
First off, thank you SO much for finally posting something AFTER that last one. Everytime I checked back to your site, I had to do so with my eyes covered, stealing quick peeks to see if the too-painful-to-look-at older post was gone already…and invariably it wasn’t.
Moving on, from the apparent distance the subject is from the wall to his right, it would appear this is not a bathroom at all, but one of those swanky, state-of-the-art (circa 1983) hot-tubs in the bedroom (you still find them in North Carolina’s finer Best Westerns). Thus, for someone to adorn their bathroom with mass-produced onlooking Olmec, Balinese and holiday-themed objects d’art strategically placed to witness their urinary shenanigans would be bad enough. But I fear a wider lense would have revealed that they, the hot-tub, and the occupant in fact comprise the centerpiece of the master bedroom (no doubt flanked with scale replicas of Eastern Island Moai, toltec sacraficial altars and Micronesian fertility god thrown in for good measure).
@SUAVE: First off, thank you SO much for finally posting something AFTER that last one. Everytime I checked back to your site, I had to do so with my eyes covered, stealing quick peeks to see if the too-painful-to-look-at older post was gone already…and invariably it wasn’t.
Yes, it’s a measure of just how bad that last Dig was that the sight of a chubby, middle-aged Bear lying naked in a bathtub attempting to drink his own urine actually comes as a relief!!
Many years ago, this fellow choose solid food over liquid feeding. Self-piss play is unfortunately a short-coming for the bear community. The white tub comfortably seats this gentleman who is really surrounded by much clutter and little functionality. I love the wall color.
Love the wall colour. Hate the chachkies. And I think there is something wrong with the water jet on the hot tub. It’s a little week.
I think we have found Bobby Brady’s mysterious Tiki Idol from the Brady Bunch in Hawaii episodes…you remember the idol that caused Alice to knock her back out, caused Greg to have a surfing accident, and yielded a tarantula in Jan’s bag and then in Peter’s bed. The idol caused all kinds of “goofy” things to happen to the Brady’s. Our intrepid lurid digger must have unearthed the tiki from the burial ground from whence the Brady’s eventually buried it. Now “goofy” things are happening to our lurid digger. He must take the idol from his bathroom and bury it back at the sacred burial ground … in order to release the curse that has obviously descended on him.
By the way, did any of you ever notice that Mr. Brady wore some pretty short and tight swimsuits in the Hawaii episodes?
By the way, teeth whitening, anyone?
Hey that frog soap dispensor looks familiar. Mmmmm that vanilla scented candle. Oh no not the ugly ceramic fish vases! Daddy? That is it. I am never taking anoth bath in that tub again.
Are mine eyes deceiving me or is that monkey-dildo thing sitting in what appears to be a collection of seashells & those little glass floral buttons? It also looks like the other weird, wooden dildo-looking thing is plugged in as though it might be a cheap lamp?
Somebody needs to be staying the fuck out of Cost Plus.
damn, i really want to make a ‘fester williams’ joke.
whwn you’e a gay man, ‘explosion at pier 1′ is not an acceptable salle de pisse decor theme. let’s hope he laminated his gay card before being forced to turn it in.
Year’s ago I learned that wood filler was a mark of the amateur wood craftsman. Today we learn that the Amateur Decorator marks himself by failing to ask specific questions. For example, “Just what kind of water sports are you into?” would have been a good question for defining detail in this space. This is also where a good working sketch can become helpful. The resident can remark, “No, that’s not the kind of water I wanted rushing up onto my body. And I didn’t say ‘tiki’.” We can never omit the planning stage in good design work.
I pissed myself in a Pier 1 once too…
Christmas decorations in a bathroom? Really? On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me, five….golden….showers….
The Balinese frog, the Olmec head and the Christmas garland do conflict to some degree, yes, but that’s nothing compared to the poor choice of eyewear shown by the central figure. The black rectangular-ish frames just aren’t doing it. What are we trying to say here, “Nouveau Geek”?
Rounder wire frames, or even frame-less eyeglasses would look much better. I mean, get thee to a Lens-Crafters! There is one in every town.
JIMBO – yup. You nailed it.
If you like-a me
and I like-a you
and we like-a both pee-pee.
I wet-a me;
You wet-a you;
under the Christmas tree.
@ Anonymous: not to mention Mr Brady’s tight perm. Greg was in a swim suit a lot of that episode, too.
Forget Florence Henderson. I use to imagine my own Brady Bunch episodes where Mr. Brady teaches Greg and Peter that a big man has no problem entering somewhere through the back door.
Or, keeping a tidy closet.
There has to be a better way to fill up this bathtub!
Chubby in the tubby, and decor by Chubby & Tubby. If we could pull back the shot a little, I think that might be a Thomas Kinkade hanging on the wall, which really has me befuddled.
Well, you’ve ruined a Beatles’ song for me. “Golden showers fill your eyes, smiles await you when you rise….”
And YOU’VE just ruined my favorite 1880’s minstrel-show standard for me.
Oh, dem golden showers…oh, dem golden showers…
“When golden showers, they come your waaaay…”
OK, OK, I’ll stop. It’s a little disturbing. The mix of decor, that is. Christmas? Olmec? Bali? Thomas Kinkade? WTF? It’s a mad jumble and it looks like he just grabbed stuff off the shelves of an upscale thrift shop rather than go with a theme.
He doesn’t realize that the combo of the scented candle and the aroma of urine makes the Olmec head hurl into the tub every night.
@ Frankie, I’m thinking those aren’t just seashells, but puka shells…definite decorator no-no’s. UGH!
Oh and clutter around a bathtub that doesn’t include soaps, shampoos, conditioners and shower gels hints to me about one’s hygiene habits or preferences. There’s just too much non-functional clutter for me to want to relax in that tub (of course, it’d have to be cleaned out after that little scene). On the plus side, the nerdy bear trying to piss himself silly is kinda cute.
@ericthewriter…incredible!
This scene would have been so much more romantic if he actually lit the scented candle, don’t you think?
OY VEY! haha!
better than the previous pic. A nice bathroom though. GOOD KOSHER DICK!!
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Ever since he was a child he had a fascination with his penis, he can’t for the life of himself why that happens when he soaks in a tub – it like a whale’s blow hole, or a sub’s getting rid of excess water but whatever it is he loves it – his mother caught him one time when he was ten but all of that mothering guilt could not stop him – it only intensified in time – warm salty water flowing over his body makes him breath…
for an encore he crams the god of love up his anus and sings what a friend he has in jesus, and a rendition of happy teddy bear christmas
This is what happens when you send celibate Spanish missionaries to a jungle people who believe in free sex and human sacrifice. They switch the altar wine with their potent truth-serum, fermented nixtamal, and then get the poor man to act out his fantasies in the altar.
The poor man is clearly under the influence of the drug, and thinks he’s in heaven and all his bear fantasies are being fulfilled.
Once he’s drained of excess water, they will then take the now-comatose priest, who’s obviously well on his way in the photo, and roast him over a slow fire. The priest will know no difference because they’ll all be telling him that this is what hot sex feels like.
Once he’s well done they will offer his carcass to the gods in their dreary temple of bad taste. As the priest prepares to meet the gods, he’s going to have no idea of when his earthly existence changes from one of pure joy to a holy place where all good things occur. The change happens slowly.
Mayor Adams?
Is that you?
the next time your doctor tells you to “say aaahhhh” ,i hope you will recall this picture in your mind.