Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Sunday, June 05, 2011
Not a couch but a sofa, a return to the settee: Doe eyed and supremely satisfied with their lot in life they sprawl barefoot in carefree ecstasy never worried about the interest free bow-wave that crashes before them. Sofa women enjoy the warmth and comfort of having nothing to worry about or be responsible for as they relax into sofa induced trances in their perfect staged lounges across the world of advertisements. There are no spills, crumbs or pet hairs here in the sofa dimension. Couches are king, places to dream dreams, stroke cheap guitars, rummage in a neighbours handbag while she makes the coffee, talk to the sofa help line on the phone – it's all like a perfect world stuck in 1955 (which we all know happened to be the perfect year) and nothing needs be paid for until after the divorce is finalised.