I bet the two BO-reeking hippies sitting next to me on the plane right now would just love this pillow couch. They’re both piled up into the kind of steaming, pretzel-shaped, bile-summoning sleep heap that only people with tapestry wraps, birkenstocks and beards can achieve. I hate them so much that I hope they’re reading this as I type it. Hey, space-wasters! Can I call you Sequoia and Chrysalis? I bet I can. Please barter your handmade dreamcatchers for this couch so that you can sleep like normal people for ten minutes before I smother you with enough pillows to choke a recycled Vegan horse.