My housemate Matt and I have been putting our homosexual superpowers to good use since we moved in together: yes, we’re actually putting some effort into how the place looks.
Antique-y sitting chairs? Check. Tasteful potted plants? Check. Kimonos to wear while we secretly watch Desperate Housewives before we listen to some metal, to balance out our masculinity? Check.
The only real point we’re disagreeing on is a certain beanbag which has appeared in the living room.
If you’ve ever attempted to fill a beanbag with polystyrene beans indoors, you’ll know that it goes something like this:
Step 1: Grossly overestimate the number of beans required.
Step 2: Gallantly fill the beanbag with beans, at such a rate that it looks like the Hoover dam’s sprung a leak.
Step 3: Fearfully realise there’s far more beans than you ever needed and can’t stop the flow.
Step 4: As the overflow begins, cause the entire room to suddenly appear as if it’s in a snowdome.
Step 5: Continue finding stray polystyrene beans everywhere until the End of Days.
As a result of this accidental overflow, a certain housemate’s beanbag is now filled to the absolute brim with far too many beans. Any attempt to sit down on this thing causes you to fly straight off it and rebound, faceplanting into the wall. It’s a feeling akin to jumping off a balcony onto an exercise ball and expecting to land perfectly in a seated position.
Matt’s insistent retort is that “the beans will settle” and we’ll eventually be able to sit in it without feeling like it’s a prop from the Wipeout obstacle course. Two weeks in, and I fail to see any flattening (although I bet he’s started secretly leaking out stray beans into the garbage when I’m not looking).
To prove my point, I’m now printing out an Advent Calendar of Failure so I can document the exact number of days until I’m proven correct. I’m not sure what will be behind each calendar day’s flap – probably some more stray beans, seeing as my dodgy attempt to fill up the beanbag has resulted in them continuing to fly around the loungeroom.
Victory will strike, and my opinion will be proven: beanbags are designed to be filled as loosely as Channel 9′s interpretation of “entertainment”.
{ 3 comments… read them below or add one }
Kimonos, beanbags, Deperate Housewives, metal music and whole-room snowdomes… Really?
What kind of gay-bogan utopia are you living in, and where’s my invite?
Oh, and give me ten minutes alone with your troublesome beanbag and I’m sure I can get it to subside to a reasonable level, that or have a fuckload of fun (and a few personal injuries) trying.
Your ‘Antique-y sitting chairs’ are actually mid century and they are awesome! I have two! Though mine have hideous green/blue fabric thats been destroyed by the previous owners dogs and are banished to the patio till i can get the energy to reupholster them.
How dare you cast nasturtiums on Wipeout! And the big red balls are not only fun to reference loudly while spilling wine on your couch but are the best bit of the damn show. FOR SHAME.