Oh dear God, we get it already. You love The Big Lebowski. You call your peepee Little Lebowski. You crap White Russians, your cat wears a jumpsuit and you fantasize in terry cloth. I’d tell you to buy this, but you’d probably just ruin with Cheeto-scented cum.

Ladyboy Rug, I embrace your explorations into gender expression. If you identify somewhere in the ether between man and woman, we can totally hug it out. If you’re more she than he, I’ll pat your sweet, sweet ass. And if you feel you’re more man than woman, I’ll give you the highest five you’ve ever high-fived. Or at least I would if you didn’t seem to have an epically scabby case of hand shingles. You know there are only two things that cause that: masturbating too much and not masturbating enough.

If Jonathan Adler ever did something that I wasn’t madly in love with, I don’t know what I’d do. Something drastic though. Like rape a bamboo plant or whatever the fuck is harvested to make this jute. Seriously, how amazing is this rug?!?

Sometimes we’re let out of our cages to terrorize the city. Or at least attend a Blogger Social with Dallas’ bevy of design blogging bitches.

The three of us strapped on our socializin’ faces and attended the Post Blogger Social at Nest, a thuper rad Dallas boutique in a double-fab new location in the Knox-Henderson design district. It was hosted by Hello, Splendor and Fabulous K, sponsored by Nest Interior Design and had absolutely nothing to do with this.

Wanna see what you can buy us for Christmas? Boy, do you EVER!

Skully chairs for our bony asses.

This wax head made Nikki regret her last-minute decision not to wear wax lips. (Down there.)

The sock monkey was court-ordered to wear pants after an unfortunate incident involving a playground, a Girl Scout troop and tub of off-brand petroleum jelly.

These little skis turn almost any chair into a rocking chair. Just like how Sarah’s little fists turn almost any face into hamburger meat.

Yipes, Stripes! Fruit stripe rug! (And great little retro chair, too.)

Are your eyeballs bleeding from jealousy yet? No? Then let’s keep on truckin’, shall we?

A moment on the lips is totally worth a lifetime on the hips, amiright, ladies? (Cuppycakes by Citizen Sweet)

Beautiful and poorly-photographed flowers by Bows and Arrows. Also by Bows and Arrows?…

Adorable boutineers on adorable boy-tineers. (Crisman and Adam, respectively, who probably hate being called “boy-tineers” since it makes no goddamn sense.)

And, finally, a chair that looks like a dildo version of The Noid. You’re welcome.

Ta da! This post was brought to you by the letters K, N, S and the number 666. Air kisses!

If you like pretending you’re a giant and stomping around your house shouting “Fe Fo Fi Fum,” then this land carpet is perfect for you. And so is Larping, by the way. You may want to look into that.

via Thersic

Much like my most recent case of crabs, I have no idea where my FLOR catalogs come from. But unlike crabs, FLOR catalogs are welcome (in my pants) anytime. Seriously, if you’re not on the mailing list, get on it now. The catalog is way better than the website.

Dudes, this bear rug is only $1800, which is quite a steal considering how rare Pink Tapestry Bears are in the wild. Fun fact: 96% of all Pink Tapestry Bears are gay. The other 4% just pretended to be bisexual in college.

This is carpet for people that have nothing better to do than sit around and piece shit together. I, on the other hand, have farts to sniff.

I’m not impressed by the Oriental rug soaking up oil in your driveway, you showboating motherfucker. Just this morning I Bulimia-d into a Ming vase after I ate too many Faberge eggs for breakfast.

I got this catalog the other day and I thought, “eh, I’ll thumb through when I have time.” Fortunately, I had to work today and thank goodness because this thing is a fucking goldmine. It looks better in print though. So order it, kill a tree, feel guilty and off yourself. Fair’s fair, right?