Furniture shopping. Or, How to give my husband a heart attack.
September 2, 2011
For weeks and weeks I’ve been sitting on a wooden plank.
I’m not a masochist.
I’m just large assed.
With enough weight to flatten a $300 couch’s cushions.
You really shouldn’t expect much of $300 couches, I know.
My husband was trying to be frugal when he bought it.
And its ugliness has served him well for many years.
I’m just saying that when you sit down and get splinters, the thing’s gotta go.
That agreed upon, I set out to find something that my husband might actually buy and enjoy.
Think ugly. Very comfortable and very, very ugly.
Scratch that. I googled “ugly couches” to give you an idea of what I meant and am now humbled by the crap out there that people will rest their butts upon.
Surely ugliness that pronounced will rend a sort of fungus upon those who rest upon it?
Ahem. I digress.
My entire train of thought derailed because people keep this in their house: