YSaC, Vol. 944: When, Lord? When do I get to see the sailboat?
2011 March 15
Vintage 1970’s Floral Velvet Couch, Yellow, Brown, Orange – $60
This is a fun vintage 1970’s couch in yellow, brown, and orange cut velvet. It measures 7 1/2′ long and is in good condition. The flowers in the cut velvet are wild and large. It would be a really fun piece to use in a room. I have two of them, if you would like a matching set. If you would like to see them, please call me at ###-###-####. I am cleaning out my barn and have many other antiques and collectibles for sale.
Fun, eh? OK – I’m pretty good at these.
*squints at couch*
*crosses eyes*
*attempts to focus at a point about a foot behind the couch*
Wait! I think I see it! It’s a sailboat, right? I love these stereograms!
(to be fair, the post itself is just fine, but the couch is painful)
Thanks for the link, Lynette!
You know what the worst part is?
At some point someone actually created this upholstery fabric on purpose.
And then?
They actually marveled at their creation.
And then?
Someone else said, “Ya know what? That’d look awesome on a couch!”
Of course, I’m sure it helped that both of these individuals were fans of Timothy Leary.
Makes me wish I hadn’t gotten new glasses.
I think my corneas are seared.
And then somebody else bought TWO of them. You just know that house must have had shag rugs too, and in the kitchen there was a refrigerator in avocado or Harvest Gold.
Or worse, Camille, and I’m old enough to remember….
Appliances often came in a hideous brown or turquoise.
I call it the lost generation – decorating-wise anyway.
No wonder housewives sat on their flowery couches, staring at their 3″ shag carpeting, waiting for the timer on their avocado oven to go off, and as they sipped their third martini of the afternoon while absent-mindedly twisting the pearl choker necklace and smoothing their it-absolutely-wrinkles-every-time-I-move housedress, slipped slowly into madness.
You can see something green and shaggy behind the lighter couch in the bottom picture. Faux fur beanbag chair? Or Oscar the Grouch in the midst of a game of hide-and-go-seek?
There was also the sickly mustard yellow generation of home furnishings.
It reminds me of a certain story… something about wallpaper… gah can’t remember it over the screaming of these annoying people in my walls.
When I was just a babe — which would put this back in the early 70s — my mother bought a forest green couch with gold lamais filigree work all over the place. Even when I was young enough to remember it, I thought it was ugly.
Anybody else read this as “gold llama filigree work”?
No? Just me?
Right. Carry on.
It was a simpler, more carefree time; people were adventurous and daring, and had access to greater volumes of hallucinogenic drugs.
“Hey, hey, you know what this couch needs?”
“Dude, what?”
“More acid.”
Preferably hydrochloric.
[funiture factory corey]
The way the factories work is that there is a wood shop which builds plywood frames (some are merely assembled from CNC-cut parts) to make up the frames. Then, the mechanicals for springs and the like are installed. So, all the basic frames are very similar.
Now, for the upholstery, that is a sight to see. There is a flat table, one bolt of cloth wide, and an entire bolt long, too. The table has tracks down the long side so that a carrier can unroll the cloth bolt down the length of the table. When one bolt is unrolled, additional bolts are unrolled upon it, until it gets to about 35-45cm (14-16″) deep.
Then, the cutting pattern is rolled out over the bolt, and a UV-sensitive powder is “pounced” through the perforations in the pattern. The fabric shop area lights are dimmed and “blacklights” illuminated. A team of “cutters” uses a device that looks a lot like an electric jigsaw with a “shoe” on it, to cut out the fabric patterns through the entire thickness of rolled-out bolts.
The fabric pieces then are sewn up and installed on the frames en masse. The employees set to this task labour away at it eight hours a day for work weeks on end–hard to much care what fabric is used.
Some speculation that some factories actually hire color-blind folk out of kindness, too.
[/corey]
None of which adequately explains just who at the furniture store selects one of these as a floor model; nor of the Sparkies who come in and flop bags of swag down to take one home, either.
Oooo, a breeding pair!
We can make lots of ugly little ottermans.
Please don’t breed ’em.
Practice safe sofa.
For the love of Spice Christ, please use a slipcover!
Or at least bring them in through the backdoor of the house.
I’ll be in the corner with a shovel if you need me.
Bwhahaha!
I shall take over the world, me and my ugle Otterman empire!
Ugle — is that french?
Yes, they are french preventional ugle’ Ottermans.
Of all the adjectives I have at my disposal to describe this couch, “fun” would not be my first choice. Or hundredth. I’d probably be more inclined to pick a number of colourful compound gerunds, like “brain-melting,” “eye-searing,” “stomach-twirling,” etc. This is a furniture emetic, and it looks like it works exceptionally well. However, two of these things might be a lethal overdose; if one violently relieves you of the contents of your stomach, surely two would threaten to evacuate major internal organs. Sparkette plays a dangerous game here.
It does look like it works very well indeed. I’m guessing flu epidemic, circa 1982.
The year of my birth!
…
I feel dirty now.
I’m with MF. I wondered just what the hell kind of deranged/deprived childhood this person had if this defined “fun” for them.
Also: “Furniture Emetic” for band name of the day. Opening for them is Enema Couch.*
*An actual piece of furniture. Yup.
When Sparky said it was “fun”, they must have been referring to the fact that it “smelled fun.”
Yup. That must be it. Smells like Good ‘n Plenty, Midnight Fantasy cologne and Cutty Snark.
8)
Did someone call?
NO!
We’re looking for Hugh Laurie.
Actually, I’m thinking
would be a cooler band name (if likely to be IF’s TMBG cover/tribute band).
I think we’ve finally come up with a solution to the truck full o’ bees. Just wheel this thing close to the truck and let the bees have at. They’ll mistake this for a field of flowers, easy.
What happened to Lyle?
Out with the flu.
Don’t believe her! She’s got me locked up in the closet because she’s afraid I’ll ruin her plots of world domination-
OMG! SisterTaco has trained zomb-
It’s not a sailboat, it’s a schooner!
Or the Titanic.
If we throw ice cubes at it, do you think it will drown?
A schooner is a sailboat, stupid head!
Not when it’s filled with beer! Stupid head, indeed.
Schooner was a terrible beer.
Thanks, Greg and IF for catching the reference.
[odd, off-topic factoid] As a result of some rather odd brain wiring which gives me near-equal eye dominance (along with much ambidexterity), I cannot see the image in a “magic” picture. There are just too many distractions, my zanshin kicks in and threat assessment takes over instead of art appreciation.
[/ootf]
You know what? There is no Easter Bunny! Over there… that’s just a guy in a suit!
I would say “Kill it with fire!” but the resulting cloud of toxic fumes would probably annihilate all life on earth.
You say that like it’s a bad thing …
/misanthrope
Well, half of the voices in my head think it’s a bad thing. Half think it’s a good idea, and the other half don’t give a damn.
/polythrope
Uh-oh, everybody in the 1+1=2 world of rational math, we’re losing Taco to the catmath world! We need to do an intervention! If he keeps believing .5+.5+.5=1, he’ll start teaching that math to Tron, and any future Tron siblings, and soon we’ll have extra halves cluttering up the streets!
Thanks for unpacking my joke there for me, Yancy :-).
Taco — first of all STOP listening to the voices in your head. If they are like mine, they are crazy!!!!
My son tends to do math in a similar fashion (especially when it applies to food) and yet he still gets into all these advanced math classes ……. strange
Part of knowing a lot of math is knowing when to purposefully screw it up in your own favor.
You must have double-majored in Math and Philosophy in college TmM.
If that’s what you want to call Engineering, then yes.
Actually, it’s a pretty good analogue to engineering:
“You’re probably all here becaues you’re good at math. Math is great because it teaches us the ideal situation. This is engineering; however, we’re actually in touch with reality here.”
Actual* quote from one of my intro to engineering professors.
*As close as I can remember anyway.
I thought Nietzsche said that.
😉
I think it was Cotterpin Doozer.
(How do you pronounce becaues?)
It requires a second nose to even begin trying to enunciate it.
If everyone dies, who would feed my cats?
/
crazy cat ladyfelinophileIf everyone dies, no one is buried. I think the cats will be fine… eww.
Just in case, maybe you can will who gets what organ?
They would just end up in Cat Court fighting over who gets to eat the tastiest bits and I’d end up rotting away in probate.
O.O
**Note to self: Hide neighborhood cats if SaraJean ever comes around to ask for a cup of sugar.**
**Note to law enforcement officials – I have not been wandering around strange neighborhoods asking underage fellas for sugar, nor have I been abducting cats for nefarious purposes.**
Fellini made some weird-ass movies.
Oh come on, you know that if some fancy-schmantzy home design team were hired to redo the Snark Lounge, these couches would be the featured pieces. Well, these and Zombie Jesusâ„¢ pictures.
It always amuses me that one show on HGTV will snark at something, let’s say a chandelier, and the next show that comes on will say that something resembling that exact piece is a vision of vintage delight.
And all our curtains would be held up by clothespin Jeebuses.
We’d have at least one red table, that’s a given, and probably a set of bedazzled hooves by the front door for keys and coats.
All the mirrors, and there’d be plenty, would warp the fabric of time and space.
The dining tables would all be 7-sided hexagons.
Oh how the Snark Lounge would shine!
Wait a minute…in a purely secular world-view…wouldn’t Jesus technically be a zombie?
Therefore, making a reference to Zombie Jesusâ„¢ pictures should be a redundancy.
Depends on if the pictures were meant to represent a pre- or post- zombification Jesus.
I should have clarified. They would only apply to the referenced Zombie Jesus-type pictures since the eponym “zombie” implies he had already died and come back to life—hence post-zombification Jesus.
Angel — I think these would be perfect for the Snark Lounge. I can see it now “Feeling low, sad, lost your snark, well come into the Snark Lounge and sit a spell. You’ll have your snark back before you know it.”
I really think that we need that “lady table” to go with them. Maybe I can by on DIY. Decorating with other peoples junk.
Yes, because that’s a great place to get a couch from. No insect life there. Nope, no sir, no infestation here!
*Scratch Scratch*
Can’t think of anything wrong about a barn couch.
*Itch Itch*
I gotta go shower in molten lead for a while.
Forget insects, Taco, I’ll bet there’s an entire colony of rats living in the seat cushions.
*BING-DING*
Paging ratwoman, we have your couch in the waiting room. ratwoman to the waiting room we have your couch.
Something tells me that (a) ratwoman has better taste, and (b) even if her rats occasionally hang out in her furniture, so would they.
ETA: This looks like a couch for Sofasnakel!
Really, you’re too kind, I couldn’t possibly. No, honestly, I want you to have them. Both of them.
(I did once acquire two couches which had been in an outbuilding, but they were rat-free, which is just as well – my lot can be very territorial.)
Fortunately, I know where we can get a snake to eat the rats.
EDIT: Lola, get out of my head!
Sorry, Camille!
*moves to other side of subway car*
*adjusts tinfoil hat*
It’s a dolphin, it’s always a blasted dolphin.
:squints at couch:
I think they missed one.
:gets out DolphinBlaster:
BOOM!!!
I want to read everyone’s comments, but I’m afraid that after trying the stereogram, I no longer have any retinas.
The Snark Lounge will be ankle-deep in melted retinas before long.
Yum.
…and I forgot my straw.
I regret wearing sandals to the Lounge today.
This scares me most when I think about all the snarkers who read the ad and look at the pictures with their babies and toddlers in the same room! The damage to growing bodies and brains is so great a risk, I advise everyone to put a square of cardboard over your monitors, and head to the nearest movie theater. A few hours in a dark room with some sort of flickering light is just the cure you need.
I’m more worried for the people who look at the ad and think: WOW! Those are awesome couches!
*Shudder*
Such darkness dwells in the hearts of man.
No, you just need one of these. It even color-coordinates with the “couch”!
I’ll order a couple for the newly redecorated Snark Lounge. Great find EB!
Dorpa answered the phone in response to its special ring that indicated someone was calling her from the lobby of her apartment building. “Hello?”
“Uh, hi,” said the reverberating, attenuated voice on the other end. “I’m here about the couches?”
“Come on up! Apartment 304.”
She pressed 6 on the receiver to unlock the lobby door and waited patiently for the gentleman to come up. She looked around the living room again. The walls were a deceptively flat maroon, but the rainbow legs of her coffee table peeked out from under the tie-died tablecloth, atop which was a crystal vase containing an artful arrangement of crocuses, posies, daisies, orchids, violets, honeysuckle, and baby’s breath.
Accompanying them, and bracketing the coffee table on two sides were the couches she had posted for sale online. Their flower pattern wasn’t quite as colourful, being predominantly brown and orange with splashes of green and yellow, but they were a symphony all their own — and she meant that quite literally. Dorpa was a synesthete, which meant that the part of her brain responsible for processing sensory input had a few crossed wires. There are numerous different kinds of synesthesia; some people associated colours with numbers and letters; for others, numbers and letters occupied different positions in space. Dorpa was a colour-sound synesthete, which meant that she associated certain colours with certain musical notes.
The sensation was quite strong, and as such everything she saw made sound. Much of the time, particularly walking around in public, it was just a jumble of random notes, like an orchestra warming up, all tuning their instruments at the same time. Art galleries were always a mixed bag. She liked the most of the sounds of Renoir, Monet, and da Vinci, but Picasso, Van Gough, Munch, and Dali all evoked various levels of cacophony that she couldn’t stand to be around.
It was with this aural aesthetic that she chose her surroundings. It mattered not so much that her paints, furnishings and decorative notions looked good to the average eye, but that it sounded good to the synesthetic one, and especially that it sounded good with the rest of the room. Her choice of wall paint, for example, provided a nice, constant, low-pitched drone that served as a foundation for the rest of the things in the room to build their symphony upon.
It was her couches that bothered her, though. They sounded lovely at the thrift store, and their colour scheme and flowery pattern were in a key that matched her wall paint. To most people however, they were hideous, and so they were marked cheaply, which suited Dorpa just fine. She had them delivered to her home, and once they were brought in and put in place, they did sound rather nice, but after a while she realized that they fell flat somewhere, like an orchestra that was missing a crucial section. They unbalanced the room — like too many violins and not enough cello. Over time, that began to bother her quite seriously. That was why she decided she had to do something with them, hence her post online inviting someone to come and take them.
There was a knock at the door. The man had finally made it up the elevator. She went over, unlatched the chain lock, turned the deadbolt, and opened the door to invite him in.
“Come in, please. The couches are right over there,” Dorpa waved a hand toward the living room where the couches awaited.
The man politely removed his shoes and headed into the living room. Dorpa followed behind after closing the door behind him.
“Wow,” the man said as he regarded the couches. “That is some serious 70s kitsch. It’s great! I have a thing for 60s and 70s styles, you know. Lava lamps, bean bag chairs, disco balls — you ought to see my place, it’s like stepping back in time.”
“I’ll bet,” Dorpa replied. Clearly he was stuck in the past and almost certainly lived alone, but otherwise he seemed perfectly harmless and utterly mesmerized by the couch. That’s why he didn’t even notice Dorpa’s knife slicing his throat open.
She worked quickly. She made sure to cut deep enough to sever the vocal cords so he couldn’t scream, but not all the way through. She needed some control. She quickly supported him from behind with one arm under his and around the barrel of his chest, while the other held his head back, allowing her to aim the twin jets of arterial spray.
In as measured a manner as she could, she directed him this way and that until his heart finally stopped beating. She then stepped back to regard her work. Now that was perfect. The swaths of blood red across the couches provided just the right note to complete the symphony. Now the couches sang harmoniously with the rest of the room. Dorpa was rather pleasantly surprised to note that the man’s lifeless corpse, now slumped on the floor, added a couple of bass notes and a C-major chord that played a fascinating and unexpected counterpoint. She was rather disappointed now that she’d have to get rid of the body.
Oooh, good twist! M. Night Shamallamadingdong must be writhing in jealousy in his tin-foil-lined bunker.
Well, to be fair, these days M. Night would be jealous of the twists in a plate of spaghetti.
Or in a plate of macaroni.
I love a story with a twisted ending!!! Well done!!!
See, freaky-puppy, your shorties play MUCH better as horror….I’m still wishing for the pig/man switch. Sigh….
Horror is good, but sometimes stories just kinda wander off in a direction all their own. I rarely know where when I start. I just kinda let it evolve organically. Sometimes I let it evolve organs. Sometimes it turns out the pig just likes bacon.
I can still remember the last time I was killed by a synesthete. Good times.
Did you scream bloody blue murder?
He said my screams smelled like candy.
Mmm. You scream like Werther’s Originals.
:sniff-sniff:
Smells like Nerds to me. Strawberry and watermelon, I think.
Oh, my.
Love it!
I do believe this calls for some Herrmann…
Herrmann….Goering?
Herrmann’s…..Hermits?
Herrmann….Munster?
Please explain.
Bernard Herrmann, who composed the score for most of Hitchcock’s films.
Sigh. In my search for the Lord of the Dance pose yesterday, my Amazon.com suggested items have become populated with Micheal Flatley merchandise.
Bwahaha. Sorry.
You could listen to Da Vinci’s Notebook “Another Irish Drinking Song”:
Someday soon I’ll leave this world of pain and toil and sin
The Lord will take me by the hand to join all of me kin
Me only wish is when the Savior comes for me and you
He kills the cast of river dance and Michael Flatley too
On a quick scan of that first sentence, I read that as “Lord of the Decompose” and thought, “That’s exactly what Riverdance needs: Zombies!” Just imagine the feet flying all over the place, over the orchestra pit, into the audience like freebies being chucked at a frenzied audience during a taping of Oprah. “You get a foot! You get a foot! You get a bag of toes!”
Zombies THE MUSICAL!
I’m just a zomb who can’t get brains,
I need a cerebral fix!
People run away in cars and trains,
And try to beat me with sticks!
When people are in the streets with me,
They scream and yell and hurt my zombie pride!
With brains so sweet, a little treat to taste,
Brain main course and eyeballs on the side!
I’m just a zombie shamblin’ at night,
And I sing to your mind:
I sing, “Unnnnnggggghgh, Brains… Unggggggggggh…”
I would love to snark at the expense of this couch. Really, I would. However, I believe I may have owned this very couch in college. Part of me believes that until a young person decorates in milk crates and EXTREME floral patterns, you can’t really appreciate having the resources to decorate with some congnition later on after college and the early years are over.
The same concept applies to that 1979 Caprice I owned in those days also. Having a car that starts every morning is a little sweeter because of that car.
Yeah, I’m kinda there too. First thing I thought of upon seeing this ad was , “Holy cow! Grandma found Craigslist!!”
“Wait, nooo… Hers had more green…”
My Great-Aunt Lola had a brownish one.
I was just afraid they’d sold the NCO-Club couches in [location] . . .
I’m ashamed to admit it, but since this is an impromptu meeting of CA (Couches Anonymous), I will…
I had one in the same color scheme, covered in a windmill/scenery/watery pattern….and…*sobbing*….I liked it.
There, I feel much better now.
A little too much intensity and a little periphrastic for the Tues. morning snark. Good writing, good writing. I just felt a little heavily invested for a C chord. Maybe an A7 b9 +5 would have brought it together for me. Not the C though. IT’S DEFINITELY NOT C!!! A7 b9 +5 IS THE CHORD!!! DON’T YOU HEAR IT?
Never mind. I’m not playing along.
We have lawyers on YSaC. They teach us how not to say something that could be used in a court of law. 🙂
“I heard there was a chord that pleased the Lord…”
Edit: Apparently, I’m having a musical day today. That is much better than yesterday.
I disagree. I think this is definitely a diminished 4th 6-4.
OT:
Just out of curiosity, is the Llama Nun (bees be upon her) okay? It’s been almost a month without a posting from her.
I’d noticed that too. I hope everything is ok with the illustrious Llama.
If the Ostrimu is starting to feel burnt out I’m willing to offer my services as a stand-in snark provider, if such services should ever be needed now or in the future. I’m sure many of the other regulars would be perfectly happy to step forward to share the load should a break or small vacation be needed.
She’s made a few comments here and there so she’s probably just busy with holy ruminant stuff.
It’s been midterms-ish recently. Mayhap she’s got big-ol term papers to grade.
Conference season as well.
(Wabbit season!)
Adranth, et al — I’m sorry I haven’t been around much. It’s been a super busy month, but the busy should end this week. I’m looking forward to contributing to the site again. Dan has been doing an excellent job of maintaining the site in my absence (which has been both a metaphorical absence and a physical absence, as I think I’ve been home for a total of about eight hours in the last week).
Taco — we actually thought about having a “guest author” week for some of our regulars who were interested. We realized, though, that coordinating it would almost be more work than just writing the damned posts ourselves. It’s something we have planned to do when things calm down, though!
It’s all that edumacatin’. T’ain’t good fer yer health, y’know, them buks got the worms an’ stuff. My cousin-brother Darl did done come down with th’ squirly gut after readin’ Moby Dick.
Guest contributors sounds like a cool idea though. I could be up for something like that.
Guest author week?
Sounds fun, like NaNoWriMo, except that, unlike NaNoWriMo, I might actually end up writing something if I participated.
After putting on my welding goggles so I could get a better look at the couch, I can’t help but notice how smooth the cushions and back are, like they’ve never been sat on. That makes me think that these babies were the “company” furniture, only used on special occasions.
As someone who spent way more time than she wanted to in all manner of junk shops, thrift stores, any place that sold anything old, and the homes of elderly relatives, I can tell you that old furniture is not very comfortable and foam cushions do not age well.
(I should probably add a corey to that. Meh.)
SaraJean, I heart you. Welding goggles?! Priceless. Your comments are like the Gettysburg address, just shaming me into silence with your brilliance. You know, silence without the silence, metaphorically, whatev. I like Welding goggles.
FYI-I had to take a step back and edit. It was getting a little MNightie over here.
Good thing I didn’t put on my full face respirator or I might have had to hose you down ♥
Get a machine shop you two.
You guys are funny. Cause-I-was-totally-joking-about-that (in voice that obviously suggests otherwise). I walked in the rain to cool off. And the goggles were just right. Save the respirator for an appropriate moment, because I want it to be just right. Ahhh.
Kinda creepy. Sorry. “What the hell am I doing here?”
I think I now have competition as YSaC’s official stalker.
Still not as creepy as Bacontini, though.
‘s creepy ‘s me?
😉
**scratches rear, digs in belly button, sniffs the fuzzy gray lint he pulls out, then wipes it on the Red Table.**
Teehee.
This is OT, but it’s at the front of my mind, so I wanted to mention it.
Despite being even more vigilant than previously, due to this happening several years ago, I’ve had my bank check card info stolen, and
asshole teenage hackerssomeone has used it to buy Xbox and iTunes ($100 on iTunes?!? That’s a lot of music and TV! I want it!). I am filling out the forms and the card has been cancelled, so I will probably get my money back, but I just wanted to remind everyone to be vigilant about your purchase information. I make limited online purchases as it is and am considering going back to paper checks for bill paying, even though I don’t love the (non)speed of the postal service. I was wondering if this time it was swiped with one of those wireless readers that can pick up information from people going by. In any event, I was alerted when Amazon told me my Kindle purchase wasn’t going through because of an issue with the card, as my bank had picked up on the anomalies and flagged the card (but not yet told me – thanks, guys). I had formerly been much more vigilant about tracking my transactions, but hadn’t checked in the past week or so, and that’s when it started. Just an FYI for everyone.It has not (knock on wood) happened to me yet, but as a matter of course I check my bank account every morning.
However, with a $3.12 balance, not much damage could be done, right?
I shall fire up the flamethrower and be at your disposal should the perps be identified.
No, really I consider it a public service.
If you haven’t tried it already, if your bank supports it try automatic bill pay (if you don’t mind automation, that is). I find it’s far more secure than credit transactions for billing and works pretty well. It’s harder to set up, but due to the direct fund transfer that you set up, it doesn’t leave you open for having your information stolen and used by a third party.
Also, steer clear of any credit card that is RF-Enabled for a few more years yet, they are still a work in progress security wise. As Lola says, these are extremely easy to hack with wireless readers, and frankly don’t provide enough benefit to be worth the risk. You’re better off just using the old-fashioned magnetic strip kind as they are, remarkably, more secure due to your increased controll over them.
Sadly it happens all too often. Keep the flask handy and you can borrow Mr. Crowbar if they find the little felons.
*passes flask*
Offer appreciated.
In my mind, he’s “Mr” Crowbar because of a jaunty bowler hat and mustache. Fancy vigilante*.
(*coming soon to the 40 Watt)
He also has a monocle and a waistcoat with a teeny tiny pocket-watch 😉
Agree with TM on the Bank bill pay, although I don’t like autopay, I do the manual thing. It’s still faster than snail mail/check pay and secure. Also, if you use it to pay regular bills (where they cannot do an e-transfer of funds), they’ll send the check, so it’s still faster on you.
Lola, if they ID whodunnit, get me an address, I’ll send them a little something special… maybe with a little note…
this is not the blowup doll you were expecting, douchebag…
That would make GTA extra “exciting”, BD! Thanks!
Note to self….stay on Bombdude’s good side…
And off his mailing list.
And away from his
blast-zonehouse.A RealDoll made of C4? Do I want to know where you stuck the blasting cap?
[voce Guido]You want I should send you one to inspect??? I don’t giveaway no inullectual properdy[/voce Guido]
Thanks for the tip. But I tricked them. I purposefully made my credit so bad that if someone stole my identity, confetti would fall from the ceiling and the FBI would show up in thirty seconds flat. I’m on a terrorist watch list for credit. It’s tough when you want to change cell phone service, but helpful in the long run in fighting identity theft.
Ditto
My aunt had her identity stolen from Amazon years ago (late 1990’s). That’s why when I want anything from that site, I buy a gift card at the supermarket and make the purchase with that. All any hackers could take is the rest of the gift card balance.
You know, it’s like a Charlie Brown Christmas couch… “It’s not such a bad old couch”… Actually, I think I could work a room scheme around this. Also, it appears to be an exceptional napping couch.
Everything does look better with your eyes closed.
I’d still want to wear protective gear, just in case it behaved like radiation.
Et tu, Sparce?
Tum Caesar cadit!
Sic, torus est turpem, igitur morto.
(Habe Felix Idus Martii, Amici!)
*igitur morio
“errrrr?”
Having worked late, come home, and looked at this again, it struck me that if you look at it a ways away from the screen (halfway across the room) the pattern in the sofa resembles lasagne. Not, mind you, any that I would ever eat (school cafeteria-quality or similar), but a layered pasta dish nonetheless.
Or, I could just be hungry.
I see you Lola. I just had some crappy lasagna. And I agree, that it looks like questionable lasagna and that being hungry exacerbates this trend. Fill your little tummy and watch the Italian goodness drift away.
OT, This made me laugh 🙂
http://eatingtheroad.files.wordpress.com/2009/11/where-to-eat-cereal1.jpg
OMG.. Urkelos!
I miss them. I heard they really weren’t very tasty.Steve ate a big ol’ bowl of 1991 vintage Urkel-Os and declared them good.
I heard the same thing about
Those nummy, sugary, miniature disks of milk holding goodnessQuispMindfield, we have to get you your own box. Or dog bed. 8) Punchity Punch Punch!
G’Night, Chesterfield and Davenport!
I often get the very best ideas reading these blogs. Many thanks for nice pics as well. I love pearl jewelry and working to buy a excellent pearl necklace. .