This is the perfect couch for anyone who lives in an episode of Scooby Doo. But I don’t. I live in an episode of The Shirt Tales. Or at least that’s what you should tell anyone who questions my constant lack of pants.
Friday, August 27, 2010
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Lil’ Fuckers: Foaming at the Mouth
This sofa looks pointy but it’s made entirely of soft, cushy foam. That means no sharp corners, stray nails or “do not remove by penalty of federal law” tags to terrorize your kids. So, give ‘em some blow, kick back, and, you know, just see what happens.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
That Oak is Sooo Knotty
Ign. Design calls this a Natural Wood Bed. But they all are, aren’t they? Listen, if your bed doesn’t create natural wood, then you probably need a Brazilian.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Chair With It
If this is all it takes to make a chair, congratulations, we each have a closet full of chairs. Midriff baring, coochie-cutting, occasionally crotch-less chairs. With or without cum stains.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Pull Your (C)Hair Out
Locks of Love has finally joined forces with the National Aesthetician Association. Starting today, all pube donations made during your Brazilian wax will be collected to make chairs for the less fortunate.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Metall-Ick
This chair reminds me of an American Apparel ad were waif boners and mom butts are thinly clothed in shimmery spandex. The only difference is, this chair is useful.
Cat-harsis
Cats have had dominion over our laps for too long. It’s time to rise up! And then sit back down. On giant, kind of creepy cat-shaped couches. That’s right, cats. Fuck you.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Peter Panned
Here’s hoping this Coyote Butterfly Chair isn’t made of real Coyotes. Unless it’s made of Peter Coyotes. That guy justĀ skeeves me out.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Tag, You’re It
I don’t know why I love graffiti, but I do. Maybe it’s the little repressed suburban in me wearing Chico’s khakis and sensible shoes, but I’d dry hump a lamp post to get my mitts on this.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
No Rest for the Hippie
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.






