Kitten puts up a bit of suffragette style protest, as I began to cut through the fabric to locate the wooden slats she refused to get off the aging couch.
Der Vetter Kevin, sleep deprived following the arrival of wee Emerson gets handy with a circular saw. I was a bit disconcerted when I thought I saw him begin to doze off mid destruction.
The tattered remains of many a night of drunken slumber, of pints of Ben n'Jerrys, of Law and Order marathons.
At last, out on the street, Brooklyn style.
*The nasty Tex-mex pattern was long ago covered by a much more tasteful suede cover.
5 comments:
Until I saw your footnote, all I could think was, "I'm BLIND!"
Did it go off the balcony or did you carry it down?
Do you seriously think we lobbed the thing off a third floor balcony? This is Brooklyn not Brixton.
You big cream puff. I would have thrown it. After stuffing it full of fireworks and lighting them.
If you had not killed it the way you did it would have been picked up in a New York Minute by some dudes in a white van
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