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30 Nov 2007, 16:03
Futon
(owned) by Josh DiCarlo
The first thing you notice about this modest wood-frame futon is the profusion of white dog hair covering the black pad. It looks something like an early Pollock in monochrome. Hair of the dog aside, the piece is a thoroughly splendid addition to a thoroughly splendid apartment.
Uncouching the unit is easiest done from the front—just grab the base and pull back/upward at an angle just under 45° and the unit's settee slides out/downward until couch's back is fully reclined. Likewise, couching the unit is a simple procedure. From either side of the unit, simply grab both settee and couchback while a friend or parent/guardian does the same on the opposite end. Lifting both ends simultaneously at a slightly inward/upward angle, lift the unit off the ground and reposition your feet so that your feet form vertically parallel lines (perpindicular with the floor) with the feet of the unit. With a feigned or real slipping maneuver, release your end of the unit. If the feet of the unit do not make contact with both of yours, restart procedure. Else, vocalize a curse/blasphemy of your choice (please consider local laws and customs, particularly non state-sanctioned/funded citizen-manned impromptu/reactionary justice forces, aka vigilantes, when choosing your curse/blasphemy) in the range of 125-145 decibels. Concurrent with cursing/blaspheming, in a quick feigned or real shoving maneuver, remove unit from feet with maximum possible scraping of feet. If your partner is not banged in the knees with force such that they topple/tumble backwards into a wall or window, restart procedure. Else, tend to any bleeding and give up. Unit will remain functional in fully reclined position until such time that you or your partner axe the unit (always wear safety goggles when axeing units, as flying splinters may occur) or until the hair of the dog accumulates to the extent that insects or rodents come to habitate there.
The reclined unit is firm and comfortable, if somewhat uneven in firmness, and best used for sleeping and being awoken by pouncing dog.
The feature that really sets this futon apart from others, though, is the ease of transference of the hair of dog from it to other cloth/clothed items. After a night sleeping fully clothed on the unit, and wearing those clothes the next day, you will find the hair of the dog on many objects you wear or interact with—inside your coat, on your scarf, on the backs of theater chairs, diner booths, etc.
Ratings:
pad comfort: 6/10
fold downability: 8/10
fold upability: N/A
transference of hair of the dog: 10/10
Checkers the Dog, Cookie the Cat
by Satan, God Almighty and Woody Allen
I can get Checkers to chase his tail simply by saying go get it! in an excited voice. I can get Checkers to growl and whine and jump at me by growling, bwrrrrrring my lips, and clapping my hands, respectively. Checkers will play with a coin on the carpet until you take it away. Checkers will flop around rubbing his face on the floor in a way a bear of baboon will rub their backs against tree trunks. Checkers will pounce on you when you're trying to ignore the morning's alarm and will ooze juice all over your crotch when you're dressing to go out. Checkers will wrap you in his leash and topple you to the sidewalk if you let out his lead too long. Checkers will drag you along the sidewalk if you don't keep up. Checkers will fling things at you with an unapologetic toss of his head. Checkers will flop his head on your keyboard when you're trying to write and flop his head on your lap when you're trying to watch a movie and flop his head on your dinner plate after you've spent three steamy hours in the kitchen preparing a meal for yourself and guests. Checkers will fart in the living room, the kitchen, and the hall, successively, and retire to the bedroom, where he'll spend the night in the papasan chair. Essentially, he makes Josh's apartment perpetually entertaining.
Cookie hissed and swiped with dread intent at my face while I was climbing the ladder to the loft above the living room. I jumped/stumbled off the ladder to the floor, where, lying supine, I restarted my heart via chest pounding. Breathing steadily again, I made Cookie aware that I would kick the shit out of her if she ever came near me. She started down the ladder and we fled the building. Essentially, she makes Elisabeth's apartment perpetually perilous.
Josh's Shower
by generations of inept plumbers
That's not really fair. I don't know why the water pressure in Josh's shower is so low and the reason probably doesn't have anything to do with the plumber that very recently was here to fix the sink—who, thinking we were out of earshot, mantra'd expletives like fuckin' prick fuck! and suck my cock! and fuck cock shit! and prick shit God damn!—or any of his professional tradefellows, but I'd hate/love to think that the injustice is neighborhood- or city-wide. You'd get wetter and cleaner faster by buying a few rounds of drinks for your friends, allowing them to piss on you, then somersaulting through mud to the Chevron station outside of town where you allow yourself to be hand-washed by the guy who lurks in the stalls there, than by standing under the sporadic drip that is Josh's shower.
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