Originally published at: https://boingboing.net/2019/01/11/gingermansions.html
…
The houses are all brilliantly awful.
Every now and then I daydream of giant empty rooms, vast expanses of blank drywall, spotless shiny floors.
The four of us and our four pets are in a smallish house by middle class US standards. Sometimes when I bump into a door frame, then snag a chair with my foot and drag it, stumbling across the room until the chair catches on the edge of the rug as I slip on a piece of paper on the floor and whack my knee on the coffee table. . . I forgot where I was going with this.
Into the living room?
My gingerbread houses are far too pedestrian. I need to up the ante (and maybe my realtor listings!)
This gingerbread house doesn’t look bad to me at all. Am I supposed to shudder at the gauche details and glaring design errors?
Of course not. One can’t simply shudder their way into McMordor.
Don’t go shopping when you’re hungry.
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