OK, so enough with the fuming over the wretched hive of body-shaming EVIL that is Skinny Gossip.
I would like to talk about our most recent acquisition, the latest in our ongoing pursuit of Grownup Furniture:
I am speaking, of course, about the chair.
Isn’t it NICE? It’s a RECLINER. I never in my wildest dreams thought I would ever own a recliner, because most recliners look like, well, recliners. Big, marshmallow-y, velour-y, ugly-y recliners.
And it looks SO GOOD WITH THE REST OF MY LIVING ROOM.
Of course, the time I get to actually spend in the recliner is limited to when Coombsie retires to the “Coombsie Cave” (he doesn’t like it when I call it his “Man Cave,” as it implies that he goes in there to drink beer and watch football, when in fact he goes in there to dink around in GarageBand and watch XTC videos on YouTube….nevertheless, it IS a CAVE, because it’s the one room I won’t go in, even to vacuum).
STILL. This is pretty major. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find furniture that goes with my STUFF? You know, like my Robin Gibb lunchbox and my Braille Playboy and my vintage chalkware cats and my original Kenner Star Wars landspeeder. I TAKE INTERIOR DESIGN VERY SERIOUSLY.
This is interior decoration, not design.
Blah blah blah. I can’t hear your didactic pontificating over THE AWESOMENESS OF MY CHAIR.
Are you saying it’s nominally “his” chair? That seems unfair.
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