As you may be aware, I like to buy shit online.Especially for the house.
There is nothing more exciting than buying shit online, except buying shit online that you’re psychologically motivated into buying by the combination of never-ending innovation of American consumerist practices and Pinterest.
Our house is slowly coming together:
but the only problem is that we still have a lot of white space on the walls, so we are constantly searching for stuff to put up there.
And by we, I mean me, since Mr. B has the gift for visual design that all men have inherited:
The only problem is, as you have probably surmised by now, gentle reader, I am weird, and I like weird things, and Mr. B wants to keep it normal.
So he vetoes everything I want on Etsy. Things he has vetoed in the recent past or will veto as soon as he sees them include:
Photo of unhappy Belorussian couple getting married.
Large Kraken Wall Decal-which is -ON SALE-, people.
“We’re not Scottish. Stop it.”
“Too abstract. There should be a picture of Inigo and Wesley dueling.”
“You have serious issues you should probably address with the help of a medical professional.”
“You’ll give people the wrong impression. This house is strictly cognac-oriented.”
“Stop showing me stuff. I’m going upstairs.”
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I was being stylistically repressed, and I was not happy to express myself in my own house, visitors and Mr. B be damned.
After one too many mimosas during a Saturday brunch, I made an impulse buy.
And now Count Orloff will be mine in a mere two weeks.
Men just don’t understand.