By: Not Sara, Sorry

Honey, can you warm up my tea in the sarcophawave?
Found by: Unknown
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Copy & paste this:
By: Not Sara, Sorry

Honey, can you warm up my tea in the sarcophawave?
Found by: Unknown

There are “multiple wet bars throughout the house” says the listing, to which I say “Woo hoo!” Unless by “wet bars” they mean “cases of beer that nobody has bothered to put away after the last Costco run,” in which case I might as well stay where I am.
And come to think of it — maybe I don’t want to live there, after all. I’m pretty certain this house is the direct cause of the worldwide cochineal shortage, and I’d hate to play any part in that. I mean, look at this living room (or great room or game room or walk-in closet or whatever room this is). How many Dactylopiuses had to die to make it that color?
Lots. That’s how many. The house is probably haunted by them. At night you can hear their… uh… chirps? Meows? Howls?
Found by: Toni
Found by: Toni
Via: search.har.com

Bah! Short-sighted people. No imagination. Just one step further and you’d really have something worth bragging about. Here, let me dust off my excellent Photoshop skills and show you what a real visionary would do:

(I use a watermark to stop people from trying to pass my work off as theirs.)
Found by: Pups

This Chair surrounds hate and forces it to sit down. Polypropylene! Extruded! Will never be diluted!
From Collect Guixé, via And Far Away.
By: Not Sara, Sorry

This is what happens when you say “I’ll use this someday, I swear. Don’t make me throw it away.”
It’s either this or Hoarders I guess.
Found by: Unknown
Via: www.nytimes.com

My kitchen has bedroom eyes.
Found by: Miranda
Loveliest comment, by mudslicker: This house has a look that makes me want to put it on my shoulder and burp it.
Found by: Miranda
Via: www.realtor.com
By: Not Sara, Sorry

Look, if I’m expected to engage in Alien hatching roleplay, I demand a stab at authenticity.
Found by: Unknown
Via: bedzine.com