xoxo
Saturday, June 27, 2009
i wanna live here
Or at least be friends with the people who live here. These images are stolen from Apartment Therapy. It's someone's place in NYC. (Edit: Sorry, I got so excited looking at it, I didn't read everything. It's actually the apartment of the guy who was the leader of the CrashTest Dummies and his wife!) Doesn't it fit my aesthetic perfectly? Except for the gross fake or taxidermied birds, that is.
xoxo
xoxo
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11 comments:
You're just saying that cuz you're figuring their roof isn't leaking. Everybody knows that proper home decor REQUIRES a Tim Wakefield picture somewhere in the living room.
Yeah, yeah, you just remember who gave you the picture of Timmy as a housewarming gift and thank your lucky stars you have friends who honor *your* design aesthetics even though theirs horrify you. :-)
Are you meaning to imply that mine horrify you? You just be careful about dissin' DA MAN or you'll wind up with a framed, full color autographed E6, if only I could bring myself to be party to the acquisition. (Now THAT would be a home decorating horror).
hahaha No! I'm implying that mine horrify you, as you well know. A poster of E6 might make me take up playing darts. And new hobbies are always good, right? :-) :-)
Just for the record, yours do not horrify me either, though, as should be pretty clear by the lack of Bobby Orr photos, they wouldn't quite be my first choice, which is not meant as a dis, but just as a distancing in case my credentials as a beer/sports/sex guy ever get called into question.
What? Do you think the fact that you recently bought your first original painting calls into question your frat boy cred? :-)
Readers: Mr Barma is a patron of the arts. Isn't that cool? Now you all go back to imagining him as eternally watching hockey on his couch, feet up on the coffee table, drinking beer and getting blowjobs in between periods. Or something like that.
Seriously, Ima get off my couch any time now, bathe, and get something done today. Any.Time.Now.
Ixnay on the aintingpay. I already get enough grief about conjectured homosexuality because my place is always clean. I've tried to explain to folks it's because my beer-drinking, hockey-watching female sex partners all like to give the place a once over before they leave, but they're hesitant to believe it. I wonder if Mahatma had to go through this kind of thing...
"I'm thin, I'm single, and I'm neat."
and
"He used to dip his bald head in oil and rub it all over my body..."
"The MAHATMA?"
These discussions are one of the most entertaining subtexts of the adventures.
(Applause)
I shoulda said too, that if there were such a thing as a gay hunting lodge in the Adirondacks, this is what it would look like. ;)
Yabbut, would a crossdresser who could help me make my hair look like Patsy Stone's with the help of Bumpits live there? That's the question, really.
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