Heather: Little does Billy Bob know, but Bambi’s uncle Joe and Peter once also thought this was a safe place to play with Thumper.
Sure, when they first came here, they couldn’t help but get excited about the ambiance, either. Who wouldn’t get a stiffie over that awesome paneling and fabulous upholstery? Who couldn’t resist the sexy allure of faux brick wallpaper? Who isn’t twitterpated over a ceiling low enough to know that when the night is through, your antlers will have effortlessly made their own notches on the proverbial bedpost?
But Joe and Peter learned the hard way that they weren’t the only ones who thought they seemed right at home there. Poor Joe. Poor Peter.
Run, Billy Bob, run. It could happen to you.
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.
Richard writes the infamous queer blog Sturtle.com . His turn-ons include wainscoting, ZZ Top, and sharp-dressed men. Turn-offs: sectionals, pleated trousers, and pina coladas.
Heather Corinna is the undisputed diva of online erotica for chicks. She publishes Scarleteen.com and is a sex guru to thousands of teenagers.
Sean Horlor is happy to no longer be using his judgmental prowess for the forces of darkness. He co-hosts a comedy lifestyle reality TV series called Don't Quit Your Gay Job and runs Up Your Alley.
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a cut glass lamp, a candle in a hurricane glass fixture, and a kerosine (spelling? I’m not going to look it up) lamp are 2 too many sources of light. What do you wanna bet that there is overhead lighting also?
LOL I have a friend with the exact same couch! TGD
what can I say, Bambi got caught in the headlights?
I love how the strong horizontal pattern of that little oak ledge/shelf parallels the underwear mark on Bambi’s hips…
Please note that the Smoke Alarm on that faux-wood paneling has been disabled, assuring that when that lamp on the verge of teetering over will set that stuffed Meerkat behind it on aflame, no one will be warned.
And would it kill him to hit that mirror with the Windex® once and a while? Talk about waxy yellow buildup!
A mantle without a fireplace affixed to cheap, faux-pine paneling which is buttressed by matching slabs of faux brick (in an inexplicable silver-gray) upon which are mounted a set of stunningly life-like stag heads. It’s a Redneck Grand Slam! You know, prior to seeing this, I wouldn’t have thought the walls of a double-wide strong enough to support ONE stuffed deer trophy let alone TWO but it looks like our proud homeowner here has proved me wrong.
And I’ll have to give him credit. I know I couldn’t maintain a hard-on with those two sets of incriminating eyes bearing down on me like that. Mighty impressive, Bubba. Kudos.
The interior shows a charmingly lack of pretension in its absolute honesty. You can read the character of the occupant in a glance. This approach to interior design, one of utter integrity in reflecting the personality whilst also making the most of the architecture of the structure deserves our praise – not our condemnation!
And leave the poor young man alone – he’s Fine Arts major staring down the barrels of a shotgun who answered an ad on recon.
I believe that those are NOT faux but real white glazed bricks and not wallpaper as I cannot see any repeat pattern.
I also believe that the sofa is placed over a long unused (possibly fake) fireplace as is existence is exposed by the mantel over the well worn sofa and the mantle mirror.
It looks remarkably like my aunts late 60′s built family room.
PS…If you’re going to do symmetry, least they could do is hang Bambi’s relatives equal distant apart from the centre.
That being said…. I’d jump this guy in a heartbeat…. bad taste notwithstanding.
Publicity still from the new Food Network show “Bambi’s Hot-Off-The-Grille: Redneck Roadkill Repast”
That there’s a four-point buck. Does the nose count as a point? I know each ear counts as a point. I have to say, Heather, that is not faux-brick wallpaper. That is that plastic/plywood crap sold in giant 4′ by 8′ sheets.
My only comment–other than that Felix Salten would die blushing looking at this–is that there seem to be two sponges (green and yellow) on the side of the couch(should we call it a couch? Is it simply a couch when there’s such elaborate wood and brass detail?) and a roll of paper towels on the implied coffeetable. I don’t think this is his abode despite how butch he looks. I think he’s been hired from one of those naked maid services to do a little hard “cleaning”.
After getting past the first two obvious items all I can see is that horrendous couch. It looks like the Jeri-Curl scene in “Coming to America” except the disturbing stains are along the back of the couch. I see this and all I can envision are three big Bubbas working on cars in the yard for hours and then coming in to rest their shirtless, offensive backs against this poor Montgomery Ward couch. Yucch!!
p.s. You just know this guy wears glasses. I wish he were wearing them here.
That’s not a roll of paper towels. That’s what’s commonly referred to in the backwoods as an “ottoman.”
Lovely, isn’t it?
I’m a vegetarian but I’d throw it all away to fuck him.
The disabled smoke alarm. Up right of mirror. When you are this hot, lordy, you must stop the shrieking. And the slightly ajar lampshade. Nice to be able get such a boner when you’re stumbling drunk. I envy.
I wonder if the deer heads talk to each other like the paintings do in the Coldwell Banker commercials? …. Bambi? ….. Yes, Faline? … How come that animal only has one antler?
hate it when people try to gussy up perfectly serviceable manspaces with cut glass lamps and pottery. what’s next, antimacassars.
i’m from northeast georgia, where men like this call places like this home. don’t try to fancify him. it’ll make him leave faster.
the de-luxe version of a couch is called a davenport.
Omigod, I just saw the kerosene lamp on the right of the picture. Trim The Wick!! poste haste.
They’s a little bit ‘o fancy cityboy in this little tadpole – what with trying to fool us into belivin the matchin Renuzit Air Fresheners on the mantle are really part of some high-fallutin’ Harmon Kardon record-player thingamabob
Now normally I would applaud a basement mancave (circa 1977) complete with wood paneling and faux brick. However as Jimbo aptly noted the unblinking & intense stare of the 3 characters of this snapshot is simply too unnerving for me. Although I do appreciate that the protagonist and his angry red penis are well place in the center of this photo, it is yet another failed Craigslist/Manhunt date. One that I must slowly back out of while murmuring soothing words so as not to end up like the deer.
admit it, if this mancub were wearing glasses, black jeans & a turtleneck and were standing in an art gallery, you would’ve announced your enslavement i mean engagement before anyone could say ‘playful nod to the Fauvist influence in a post-naif culturescape.’ he’d make a joke about trying to find the dogs playing poker.
take it from a guy who spent many happy mornings, afternoons, evenings, sunsets and daybreaks getting it on in the truck, one foot on the gunrack, one sticking out the little triangle window. this is a natural man in his natural habitat.
i have a soft spot (and a hard one) for minimally self-urbanized countryboys.
he has a man’s quiet pride in his home. he doesn’t care how it looks. it’s comfortable and arranged for maximum efficiency. the lamps are from his granny. the different color beer cozies are so you don’t mix up the cans.
his hands are rough, but his touch is tender. his kisses are soft, deep and taste of juicyfruit gum. he’s used to being quiet; he listens with his entire body.
and he’ll fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before. le beau sauvage, indeed.
after the third or fourth time, he’ll shyly as if you ‘wanna return the favor?’
you will be amazed at how totally masculine and proud a man can look giving it up.
do not ‘explain’ or defend him to your brunch buddies. they just won’t understand. wine isn’t grudgingly insouciant, it’s red or white. williams means hank sr., not vanessa.
when he tells you he loves you, he means forever.
don’t ask him to move in with you. he will hurt in silence over that look you get on your face when he puts his feet on the coffeetable.
when you move in with him, resist the urge to whitewash the panelling and slipcover the sofa. this would be the perfect metaphor for why your relationship went slowly and achingly wrong.
Why eric! I believe that’s the first time anyone’s ever moved me throw wood AND shed a tear at the same time! (Not counting the day Ricky Martin finally Came Out.) What a lovely tribute to Countryboy Romance.
*sigh* If only it were true…
I think this gentleman has bravado! He has the nuts to hang deer heads on cheap sheet rock and cabinet lining paper, it’s a decoupage whore’s dream. Now the couch here is a trailer park classic. and who’s to say this guy isn’t a garage sale artist or poor college student that screws animals for rent money? Then he, the praying mantis, hangs their heads on the wall for trophies after biting them off. The greatest thing about the picture is that the paper towels on the table are perfectly lined up with his crack. They are there before the fact just begging to be used and will be once the trick he has lined up for 4:30 PM has left and prepares for his 5 o’clock appointment. Time is money here children!
UGH! Barney bear and his den of death. Deer heads, is this guy straight? Aunt Madge needs to give this cat a make over. Lose the MIRROR can you find a bigger one? MIRROR haha nice package!! Spray paint the HIDEOUS paneling a brink PINK. Remove the wtf is that a patch? Last but not least paint a letterboxed wall size mural featuring ABBA. Honey, G-rage sale the lot of that animal rot. PEACE
there is something to be said for both men and rooms with no pretense or guile.
howeverm this isn’t the time or place for that, so flame on, bitchezzzzz.
Burn everything then fuck him for days. Now where’s my wine?
Why it’s homophobe, 70′s rocker, and wacko conservative Ted Nugent’s house!
GS, funny comment, but if it were Nugent’s house, the sofa would be leather with a pelt thrown over the back
But there’d still be a nude, tattoo’d groupie with a boner in it!
Just love reading Eric’s comments, but can’t get the vision of Dame Sally Markham dictating to her secretary, Miss Grace out of my head…
and GS, I also have that Ted Nuggent LP… that’s never been played, but somehow got “water” damaged on the cover.
Are those Ipod speakers on the mantle, or Airwick air fresheners?
they’re speakers, hooked up to the huge flatscreen tv we can’t see, across from the couch. that’s why the paper towels are on the coffeetable. i told you, maximum efficiency.
I spy a little burl-wood bear, the likes of which one can purchase at so many road-side stands driving northbound on 101 in California. Orick, perhaps; or the Trees of Mystery.
Forget the rules, that boy is FINE.
ooh ooh hunt me! hunt me!
I’d be glad to oblige Billy Bob and spooj up that nasty old couch in a heart beat.
Having grown up in the midwest, I’ve been in plenty of rooms exactly like this. Unfortunately, I’ve never had the good fortune to encounter such a young man.
This is a classic rural/small town basement family room in what would be a slightly “contemporary” take on a ranch house, circa 1984.
The brick isn’t fake–it’s real brick, or at least thin-brick veneer covering the concrete basement wall, but I’d say real brick, judging by the color of the mortar and the half-hearted attempt at making it a little more modern by running it in a stack bond. Most likely, that whole end of the house is brick, including a massive chimney that serves fireplaces in this room and the living room above.
Yes, there’s a hearth behind that couch. Most likely the living room has an open fireplace, while this room was fitted with a more efficient fireplace insert that could be used for supplemental heating in the winter. But then they got a rear-projection big screen TV, and the only way the room worked was to put the couch against the fireplace. One of the boys got clever and installed surround-sound by hooking up a pair of old computer speakers to the TV.
The couch–ugh. I’m sorry to say you can still find sofas exactly like that at rent-to-owns and furniture emporiums all across the goddamned midwest. You can tell that the dirtiest son’s favorite place on the sofa is on the right side there
Momma tried hard to make this room nice, but eventually just gave up and let it go. The boys took it over. Probably at least one of ‘em has a basement bedroom adjacent. For the last 12 years this room has been filled with baskets of laundry, dirty half-finished soda cups, stale microwave pizza, a smelly litter box, and one or two sleeping dogs.
The real charm here lies in the lampshade sitting askew next to the stuffed squirrel. Or is it a baby meerkat?
OH DEER….wood and bricks will never make good bed-fellows…the flames on his arm should be used to set the entire room on fire….burn it to the ground and start ALL OVER AGAIN!!
Be careful, Bambi!
Wood is in the Man!
And by that I mean Formica.
On the wall.
Between your father and myself.
It’s tacky and smells of Crystal Pepsi and Rent-a-Center Cum-Couch! RUN!!!
I love the fact that this man’s gaze is as dispassionate as those of the deer heads! He TOO is a “horned” beast…. the sofa is just too filthy for words and I can only imagine the years of body oil, cigarette tar, and ass sweat that have accumulated. Not sure if the mirror above the mantle is meant to make the room appear larger, or meant to expand the hunter’s sights? Clearly this is an all-male abode with all-male ornamentation.
I think if he just tilts the lampshade back to center the room will really work. Yeah, really work!!