We Don't Care What They Say, Craig. You're A Winner In Our Book!

Most Bitter Entry

We liked this entry because it seems incredibly bitter and negative! We did not like it enough to award it a prize, but we will share it with you here because we like to relish the pain and misery of other people's lives! It is from a reader identified only as "LG."

My sister is forever telling me that I suck, calling me a cheapskate. It pisses me off to no end. But since she chased me with a knife when we were kids, I don't want to get on her bad side. But a giant beanbag chair will be my revenge. She'll think that it's so cool and comfortable. She'll think that I'm an irresponsible spendthrift. Little would she knows...

Most Poetic Entries

We had a whopping 2 entries in Haiku form. We are very impressed by the poetic sensibilities of Eric:

Your office does suck!
Chill on my Combo, baby.
oh. now this is nice.

and Bill Norris:

Sofa hair crusted
Dog wet from Red Bud Island
Lucy needs a bed.

But again, not impressed enough to give away a $250 beanbag chair for 17 syllables.

The Winning Entry

The winning entry, by Craig, is below. It is included in its full glory for your reading pleasure. Any typos or incorrect references to Henry Miller, who wrote books, unlike Herman Miller, who designed furniture, have been left intact for a more authentic experience.

Again, congrats to Craig! Please to enjoy his winning entry:

Why would I believe my life would be enhanced by the giant bean bag chair?

Easy.

You see, I live in a castle. It has a single, large main room which is open to the skies. The floor is red and foot-printed, while my front door is always open and crowded with children's tennis shoes.

Sure, it's inflated. And many call it a "moon walk", but whatever. The point is this: I've been having a hell of a time locating some decent sit-wear. My most recent attempt to furnish my crib ended with the floor getting blown out by the ice-pickish feet of some (somewhat rusty) patio furniture I found off of Thornton and Oltorf. Seriously, Austinist, you get what you pay for in this world. I had to invest in some serious duct tape action to reverse that damage. Plus the tetanus shots made me feel so third-world. I live in goddamn castle for christ's sake, I shouldn't have these "little people" problems.

[Many apologies if the Austinist is indeed, a "little person." But, that's your problem. My problem is furniture. Bygones.]

Since then, I have been on a cushion-crusade (so to speak) to locate furniture that would match my powerful sense of aesthetics (did I mention that I LIVE in a castle?) with my overwhelming need for something soft and billowy. My quest has led me down all sorts of ill-advised roads, paved with the hideous bricks of misfortune and disappointment. Cement benches from Home Depot. Anything designed by Henry Miller. Two bench-seats from an abandoned Volkswagen bus. Even this piece of driftwood:

http://www.mrash.dircon.co.uk/ch3.html

Needless to say, I have been half of a man since this search began, and really, there was never much of me to begin with. So this is particularly tragic.

And you, dear Austinist, are my one last shred of hope. I feel that my dignity has been put on the line here. What, with having a castle for a home, as a king, yet no usable throne from which to do proper throning. And now, after seeing your contest and doing an online inspection of your proposed prize, I feel a weight has been lifted. Or , rather, there is a potential chair on which I can drop my weight. Without deflating the superb majesty of my most-stately crib. Again.

God speed that poofish throne to this balloonish king. God. Speed.