Living Room Wreckage

Guitar Hero

Richard: I know what you're thinking. It's the same thing I'm thinking, the same thing everyone thinks the moment they lay eyes on this photo:

"The fuck is up with that thermostat?"

Clearly, this house was decorated in the early 2000s with the help of Paige Davis, who, like the rest of America, tended to paint everything mustard at the time. I have a hunch that the trend stems from the country's obsession with yellowcake uranium rumored to be in Iraq, but it's only a hunch.

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Cottage Cheesy

Eric: One of the joys of being a double Capricorn is the absolute certainty that everything has its proper place.
One of the agonies is when they're not in it. Like in this dump.

Let's just jump right in. The microwave cart? That's where your cheap pine breakfast counter with slide-under stools goes.

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Charming Fixer-Upper, Motivated Seller!

Richard: At some point or other, you've probably been bitten by the home improvement bug. You awoke on the floor of your lanai or your kitchen or, if you're German, your enema dungeon, clutching an empty bottle of Luxardo and thought, "This room could use some sprucing up."

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Unwelcome Shabby Chic

David: Psychologically speaking, the owner of this home is a genuine head trip. Survey his bedroom and you immediately comprehend what's going on with his come-hither-but-get-the-fuck-away-from-me attitude. It's all one big YES/NO cluster fuck (you!)

Examples: The particle board bed, (sporting 200 thread count sheets from the local thrift store) seems to beckon, but then upon closer inspection looks as though the slightest ass-pressure would collapse it in a trice.

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I'll Stop the World and Melt This Room

Richard: The air is full of pollen, birds on every tree branch are fucking their little bird brains out, Kellyanne Conway is wearing white(ish), and Cadbury eggs are half-off at Walgreens. Ostara be praised, it's time for spring cleaning.

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The Considerate Ways of an Ugly Blanket

David: There's nothing like self-awareness married to consideration to ease the potential pain you might cause a loved one who harbors a cleanliness fetish. And because this guy is aware that he's a slave to his various ADD compulsions, he is keeping things real for his mom by:

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Short-Fingered Vulgarian Digs

Richard: These are not our usual interiors.

For starters, they're meticulously clean. (The homeowner probably isn't responsible for that.)

They're also a bit grand, in the same way that we'd be "a bit" excited to slobber on Christopher Meloni's pendulous nutsack or gargle with Chris Noth's DNA.

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Texas Chainsaw Mishegas

David: A good friend who knows about things like this told me that the heart-shaped wreath on the wall suggests that this fellow is a married cheater. I'm not sure how he knows that sorta thing as he's a big ole single fag, but maybe it's related to his own childhood and some dysfunction between his parents.

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Something So Wrong It's Right

David: When I see a pic like this I'm moved deeply by the fact that, for the past fourteen years, Lurid Digs has continued to beam out, uninterrupted, from its corner of the queer universe its unique critiques and commentaries regarding the horrors of gay male dwellings. Never once have we failed to keep the spirit of good bad taste alive -- a reason for each of us here to go on living.

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Casey Strikes Out

Richard: (With apologies to Ernest Lawrence Thayer)

The air was warm and muggy in poor Casey's living room,
The towering, terrible oscillating fan did naught to relive the gloom.
From the glass-front cabinet, a plastic slugger peered
Out on the cluttered surfaces, while Georgia bulldogs sneered.

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