So I haven't blogged in forever and I've been meaning to write lately, but my internet has been acting wonky and videos take forever to load - it's almost as bad as dial-up - so I can't watch House Hunters or HHIntl or any other HGTV show. But then, like a Christmas miracle, HGTV released the photos of the 2013 dream home, a 3000 square foot home in Charleston, SC.
But you don't build an HGTV dream home without breaking a few eggs, or rather, massacring a few trees.
HGTV really seems to enjoy playing God with these trees' lives.
This house may seem nice, but it's kind of a dick. It makes you sleep in crappy places.
Like an entry way.
And the hallway at the top of the stairs.
It leaves odd produce - odd in that it's nothing you can just pick up and eat, like apples - sitting around.
It makes you invite over your girlfriends and forces you to read one copy of the HGTV magazine and share one drink and eat one dozen lemons.
It puts up possibly racist artwork.
It tells your other, non-racist artwork and accessories, "Get the fuck out! There's no place for you here." Which I'm fairly certain is what people told Joseph and Mary.
It makes ridiculous claims:
Like calling a chair shoved into a corner a "reading nook."
about it's side yard views,
it's cedar shingle-style siding and extended eaves,
and a private entrance to the back deck.
It's also commanding.
Despite all of this, the house is super generous. It will lend you a ton of shit:
a mature appearance,
a lived-in look,
a sandy beach style,
a rustic touch,
a spa luxury to the shower experience,
a modern aesthetic,
a sense of permanence,
an urban sensibility,
a touch of femininity,
a graphic punch,
a subtle feminine touch (which is different from a touch of femininity),
bed-and-breakfast style luxury,
a touch of shimmer,
a lived-in, comfortable look,
an intriguing design element,
more visual appeal,
more permanence (and also, why are modern Zen interiors not permanent?),
contemporary styling, and,
most importantly, an essential pop of drama.
I'm gonna lend HGTV a thesaurus. Hell, I'll just give 'em one as an early Christmas present.
The house has these magical chairs on which you can read, reconnect with friends, watch TV,
hookup with an ex, broker a peace deal between Israel and Palestine, look at pornography, make friendship bracelets, blog, do the lean back, eat a calzone, play D&D, text the friends you just reconnected with, watch cat videos, write thank you cards, drink lemonade, look up random articles on wikipedia. Really, there's an endless number of things you can do on these chairs.
Just kidding. It only says read, reconnect with friends, or watch TV. Only those three things.
But most importantly:
the house has a professional-quality ping pong table. It's the only table professional ping pong players use. This more than makes up for the boasting, bossiness, possibly racist artwork, dubious "reading nooks," weird produce, and shitty places to sleep.
This post was brought to you by:
a big-ass car,
a satellite dish,
a spot cleaner,
another, less fancy vacuum.
No trees were massacred in the making of this blog.