John: How charming. Mr. Humphreys is in his second childhood and now lives in the nursery of his daughter’s house. She had turned the nursery into a sewing room but that was before the home said they could no longer control Mr. Humphreys who had learned how to use a computer — and a webcam! — and was hosting bukkake parties for all sorts of degenerates in his room.

Mr. Humphreys has now figured out the BlackBerry he was given at Christmas and takes photos of himself, with pals Mickey, Minnie and Pluto, that he mass-emails around the world with quite lucid directions to the daughter’s house. Daughter hasn’t quite caught on yet, as traffic up and down the back stair to his attic room is still sparse. But Mr. Humphreys is thinking maybe the Mickey panel needs to go. Something hotter. Spiderman, perhaps. Or Tom of Finland. That should get the party started right.

Richard: This photo kinda reminds me of that Matthew Barney show where … well, actually it reminds me of any Matthew Barney show, because the only thing running through my head right now is “What in the name of cheese-flavored popcorn balls…?!”

Based on the limited information at my disposal, I can envision only three possible explanations for this sublimely disturbing image:

Grampa has lived in this room since he was six years old and has never bothered to redecorate.

Grampa had an accident in the little boys’ room at Disneyworld and needed to change his drawers.

Karl’s Kiddie Corner and Daycare Depot doesn’t really do full background checks on potential employees.

I mean, seriously: it’s gotta be of those three, right?
 

David: When the government of France decided to build a newfangled version of Versailles, (for the new Millennium don’t you know), they called upon interior decorator Phillipe Kikisse — who prefers to work only in the nude. Here we see Mr. Kikisse sitting in a guest room of the newly designed palace, displaying both of his latest wax jobs — the pine floor’s and the aftereffects of that amazing Australian depilatory Nads. Why he’s had Frankensteinian bolts permanently imbedded in his neck remains a mystery that only Jean-Paul Gaultier can explain.

John: Oh, please stop. Are you living inside a wedgewood cup? This queen is too house proud. He doesn’t even think he needs to show off an erection to get a date. Cause those floral “oils” are working overtime, thank you.

Richard: “And here’s our last stop, ladies and gentlemen, the Haunted Hallway of Hedda Hopper. Every night at midnight, if you stand here quietly, you can hear her as she files her nails for the very last time. Chilling, isn’t it? … So, thanks for joining us for Naked Tours of American Homes, which is made possible by contributions to local PBS stations by viewers like you. I’m Corey Feldman. Thank you.”