Gallery: Couches for You, Couches for Me

Earlier today, my dog decided to bury her new, raw marrow bone in between the cushions of my couch. I’m sure that made perfect sense in her mind — not having a yard to dig up, she wedged the bloody, fatty knob deep into the crevice of her adopted bed.

As one does.

And so, here I am, thinking about new couches. I’m probably not going to buy one — rather, I’m going to disinfect the one I have and hope for the best (if you have “health hazard” or other disparaging comments about that, I don’t give a fuck, just to put that out there), but even so, if I were to replace my couch because of it’s recent befouling, here are some I may have considered:

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