Living Room Wreckage

The Return of the Lesbian Decoratoresses

Richard: So clearly, I was wrong: our little friend a couple of posts back did not fall prey to the aesthetic whims of a crack commando unit of lesbian decoratoresses. That adorable young man with the cluttered family room is actually a disco-dancin', Oscar Wilde-readin', Streisand-ticket-holdin' friend of Dorothy, and this is obviously his daddy.


Interiors Designed by Lesbian Committee

Richard: I can handle ugly. I can handle cluttered. I can even handle dirty. But this is a goddamn perfect storm of all three, and IT IS BUMMING ME THE FUCK OUT, MAN. It looks like a room designed by committee. A lesbian committee. A lesbian committee consisting of three midwives, one almost-licensed electrician, and an expert in fake-ass kachina dolls.


Items From Target's “Stickleigh” Collection

Richard: Scary: having butt sex on a wooden bench from the Target's "Stickleigh" collection.

Scarier: the scratches it's going to leave as it scoots inch by butt-slamming inch across that alleged hardwood floor.


Beyond the Deadening Calm of Radioactive Misery

Richard: For your edification, ladies and gentlemen: a glimpse of life after the nuclear holocaust. No mohawked Tina Turner walks among us. No be-togaed Farrah Fawcett-Majors waits to do our hair and nails (or whatever girlfriend was doing in Logan's Run besides launching her career). The party people are dead and gone, and we're left to wallow alone in beige caverns of sadness.


Rose and Bologna Pink Bombshelter

David: Never, ever apply paint atop textured wallpaper. Notice, here, how the do-it-yourselfer abandoned the project and attempted to conceal his mistake by placing a Korean-made landscape over the botch-job. This is incredibly disconcerting. Too, the entire aura of this room radiates lack of care and attention, like we've tumbled into one of those underground bomb shelters that were the rage during World War II.


The Room That Time Forgot

Shawn: There's something of a Land That Time Forgot approach to decor going on here. So many eras are existing simultaneously in peaceful unison that it's hard to know where to begin. Greek Neoclassical sculpture, Egyptian bric-a-brac, Renaissance murals, Victorian furnishing, and a Sony Bravia home theater -- it's as if Father Time himself started dabbling in interior design and overreached with the epoch-straddling.


Beyond the Valley of the Dolls

Richard: No, no, no: we will not play the art game. See, Lurid Digs was founded on one important principle: when left to their own devices, homosexualists can throw together some extraordinarily fucked up shit. No matter how bottomless the power bottom, no matter how hungry the cockgobbler, even the gayest swimmer in the gene pool can get confused when it comes to window treatments. We are here to make fun of those homespun interior disasters.


Furniture: Laura Ingalls Wilder; Accessories: Petco

Richard: Funny story: I've been here before. Figuratively speaking. As in, I have been plagued by this same problem: how to combine Wal-Mart curtains, hand-me-down Chinoiserie, and the furniture from my college dorm room into a beach house environment suitable for Cockapoos. I was never able to answer that question; clearly, daddycakes wasn't either. On the upside, I bet all the slaves he keeps chained to the lanai really enjoy that fold-out doggie bed.


The Utter Distastefulness of DIY Living Room Slings

Shawn:A vignette from Perils of DIY Porn file: “What a fiasco,” Mitch growled. “Why did I let you talk me into it?”

“Me!,” Burt seethed. “It was your idea in the first place -- plus you’re the one who said we didn’t need hits of Viagara to get hard on camera. No, we’re real men!” The exchange only got more heated. Mitch wasn’t having it.



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