File Under:Suffocating Sofas

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David: It’s been ages since we’ve featured any monster sofas on Lurid Digs, and after Avi sent me this pic yesterday I knew it was time to revitalize the category. So, look for more suffocating sofas in the future. We know you love them as much as we do. (And — as this couch proves — the boys that come with them.)

File Under:Suffocating Sofas

15

Shawn: This is the Pit & The Pendulum interpreted bad trick-style; each element offers up more terrifying menace and promises no possibility of escape. The hyper-florid drapes are the sort I’d expect from some Park Avenue dowager, and combined with the almost plush-looking wall paint, it all just makes me want to pop a Claritin®. As for the couch it’s, frankly, fucking humongous, with the asymmetrical-on-tope pattern screaming Florida, “Grandma’s ranch home,” and “1986″ at high decibel. The lone saving grace: the curtain tiebacks, that, in the event of a violent home invasion, could double as ninja stars.

Anonymous: Interesting. An entire room designed around the smocks of Bea Arthur (may she rest in peace).

File Under:Living Room Wreckage | Suffocating Sofas

35

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

Steve: Whenever I see something like this, I have a violent initial reaction which is then nullified by a secondary reaction of, “Oh, this must be Europe — one of those tiny countries I don’t know the name of where everything looks completely chaotic and insane and nobody notices and it’s okay anyway because everyone is eight times sexier than the average American.”

But if I’m wrong, and this is just Arkansas, then may the Lord have mercy on whoever was behind the aesthetic considerations of this space.

Terrarium — check. Eight kinds of green — check. Tiny shelf mounted on wall to display tiny vases and tiny cocktail umbrellas — check. Matronly sprawling yarn throw blanket — check. Bull-fighting schedule or something — check.

Not that any of it would stop me from sleeping with this guy at first availability.

File Under:Hot Anyway | Living Room Wreckage | Suffocating Sofas

44

Steve: Though not as gorgeously tropical as her sister, this sofa definitely belongs to the same family. In a startling show of irreverence to form, these wilting billows of puffy floral fabric most resemble a tin of cake batter, caught in the process of rising to golden-baked goodness. As it stands, the cake is little more than half-baked, and not ready for consumption.

However, I’m placing an order for seven of those cute little raccoon statuettes.

David: Try as I might, I can’t stop obsessing on that pile of fabric (or is it baby clothing) on the right top edge of the “couch.” (That is a couch isn’t it and not a left over corpuscle prop from the 1969 Raquel Welch sci-fi classic Fantastic Voyage?) But that pile of patterned material. Why? Why? Why?

File Under:Floral Attack | Suffocating Sofas

36

Steve: Vrooom! You think it’s about racing, and at first it is, but the pattern on Desmond’s sofa reveals a deeper story about the native peoples of the American Southwest. There are two narratives here. Or possibly three.

File Under:Suffocating Sofas | Violations of Space

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