Yeah, I still want a blue velvet sofa. But when Jenny from MFAMB started saying things like “folex” and “lint roller” I got a little skeered. Maybe some people are better at keeping their hot stuff tidy, but I am in kid vomit and sticky jello red alert phase. Not that it’s stopping the sexy feeling I get from gazing upon such beauties as these:
As I type this, I remember that I may have a slice of cobalt velveteen goodness of my very own:
Oh yeah. That guy. Somehow he has escaped Ike’s jelly period unscathed, mostly due to the magic of a sheepskin cover and general neglect.
Which is why I think I’m going to sell him. Her. It. It brings tears of sadness to my eyeballs, but our bedrooms in New House are just so much smaller than they were in Old House. Blue velvet rocker must go.
Let me know if you’re interested.
In the meantime, don’t think about this:
Scary Dennis Hopper in Blue Velvet… don’t think about it!
Later, taters. Sleep with the lights on tonight.