Sean: I think I’ve seen this photo as a brainteaser in the back of last month’s Sci Fi Magazine with the following caption: Can you find all the magic swords hidden in this wizard’s room? Strangely enough, none of the swords are crossing. Wait a minute. That’s part two of the brainteaser. Anyway, my personal favorite is the sword mounted on the plaque, which, as everyone knows, is the award given for reading The Lord of The Rings one million times. The framed photocopies of what appears to be obscure verse by J.R.R. Tolkien are also quite breathtaking.

File Under:Dens From Hell

45

Richard: You know what? I am totally onboard for this. No, seriously: I am madly in love with this room. I mean, who doesn’t dig Wedgwood? And this — this isn’t just Wedgwood, it’s Wedgwood for the Miley Cyrus Generation, WEDGWOOOOOD TO THE EXXXXXTREME. My grandmother would probably hate it, but I find it exciting and new — like an episode of the Love Boat featuring guest stars Wendy O. Williams, Boadicea, and Dr. Bombay. (If only, right?)

My sole gripe is with that Walmartian gold mirror hanging in the corner: (a) it’s a horizontal line in a room full of verticals (save one fuzzy exception), and (b) one of those five queens should’ve known to get something silver to match the sling.

File Under:Dens From Hell

54

David: I’m not an advocate for celebrity portraits placed in public areas of the home — like this den, or worse a living room. Why? What exactly does this sort of fandom broadcast? Need one be reminded daily of Barbra Streisand‘s role in the film Nuts? I mean, that’s what would come to mind for me — despite this being a circa, say, ’68 photograph — each time I walked through the room. But wait. I’ve lost the thrust of my commentary. Forget the portrait faux pas, the wayward railroad wall clock, the exiguous, depression-making beige-ness of the room. It’s that “couch” that must be considered — examined in detail, mulled and worried over. What is happening there? The couch appears to be facilitating some sort of irrevocable tear in the time-space continuum. Where one of the homeowners is beginning to disolve into The Void. Soon to be gone — forever. “Papa, papa can you hear me?”

Jimbo: If this really is a porn set and not someone’s actual home then the set decorator needs to be taken out and shot! Charitably overlooking that utter botch of a sofa, it should be obvious to even the most Barbra-besotted queen on the planet that a huge, room-dominating photograph of La Streisand complete with crossed eyes that still manage to follow you everywhere is boner kryptonite. Only a Lesbian could have gotten it this wrong. Honestly, it makes the whole thing look less like Gay porn and more like a cautionary propaganda video from Focus on the Family. “Fuck & Cover” – The ugly truth about what REALLY goes on in Homosexual bedrooms! What your hairdresser won’t tell you!

And don’t even get me started on that plastic wall clock!

File Under:Dens From Hell | Suffocating Sofas

60

Shawn: I’m getting profound Eurotrash vibrations from this one. Why, I can practically hear Giorgio Moroder synths. His Gigi D’Agostino-style grooming and hair color suggest Italy, but the furniture has a Black Forest sensibility to it that reads Switzerland. I suspect the leather office chair comes courtesy of the polyglot Eurostyle catalog, so that in conjunction with the generic Pan-European or -American nude pin-up just further muddies the waters. The Hummel-like miniatures are pure Teutonic kitsch, though. Ultimately, it’s the curiously labeled can of soda – which, no matter how many times I examine it — to mine eyes still appears to read “der Sprite,” that leaves “East, such a mystery; West, open history” running through my mind.

Jimbo: I know we’re supposed to concentrate on decor but there’s so much manscaping going on here that I feel as though it counts. I mean, the close-cropped, bad dye job up top; the matching, scrupulously manicured, two-tone Van Dyke; the double earring set (always a no-no – on a man, anyway); the completely shaved pubes grotesquely accented by not just the total lack of any other body shaving but by the oddly diaper-shaped tanline and the [inevitable] cock-ring as well; the faux-threatening scowl and the predictable leather chair all conspire to say, “A Control Freak Lives Here” to me. And one who isn’t afraid to pitch a petulant public hissy when crossed, for that matter.

The ugly nude painting propped above the two Old Lady cookie jars merely make my case for me. (Five’ll get you ten that he’s the painter!) As does the can of Sprite. (On TWO coasters, no less!) Because… you know… a girl’s gotta watch her figure…

File Under:Dens From Hell

29

David: I scan this interior and my eyes begin to tear; considering what it would take to actually organize and sanitize this space. My suggestion: hire one of those crews that come in and clean up after the scene of a grisly crime — they’d have the psychological wherewithal to deal, without going over the edge themselves. In closing I’ve just gotta quote from Evn, the kind gentleman who submitted this pic for us today. I liked his take on the disaster: “It’s like an angel crashed through the ceiling of an anthropologist/conspiracy theorist’s home office.”

Hoo Hoo You shouldnt be so anal – I luv it – my kind of room! In future centuries art historians will discuss this still life and the abundant symbolism of the items on display. They mean something and reflect the zeitgeist no doubt – wish i could see better what. His pose has something of a Renaissance style. He should be hanging in the Met.

I can vouch for the exquisite feelings that accompanies the rediscovery of a long thought lost treasured item under a pile of crap that hasn’t been touched for years. Perhaps he will wake from his carefully composed revery and find his clothes…

File Under:Dens From Hell

35

David: Given the texture and variegated quality to wood paneling, a golden rule for homo homeowners is to never ever mix varieties. Here we have the ruddiness of cedar colliding with an ill and yellow-bleached pine wall treatment. The combination telegraphs a kind of hillbilly hideousness — the likes of which hasn’t been seen in since Kid Rock married Pamela Anderson.

File Under:Dens From Hell

27

Steve: I wouldn’t want to insinuate that this might ever be the future location of sweaty gay sex, but it might. Isn’t that the most wonderful thing?

Rest assured, everything will smell completely fresh for the duration, and you’ll be surrounded by a dizzying array of delicate pastel-colored ornaments, hand-painted in Taiwan.

File Under:Dens From Hell

31