Double Bind: Jimmi Campkin & Basilike Pappa

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I sat down on the remains of an old dream and watched her snort a line of concrete dust. The blood ran thick and maroon from her nose, as I broke the seal on the fourth of the day with the loudest escape of air. My shoes are rotten, as are my legs, but my shoulders still have enough bone and sinew and hope to carry us through the dead plants and vicious eyes. I can smell people; as I walk through the crowds I can hear their prejudice and taste their awful choices in partners and pornography. Everything is sour, and everything leads us to numb our experiences.

The sun is hot enough to melt a bank vault and we recline across the monolith of grey in this wasteland; like a mortuary without the building, like a coroner without the science, as loved ones without the care. The stones sizzle and burn into our weak flesh, and in response we fill those gaps in the tissues and veins with sex and rust and disobedience. I can’t remember the last time I ate food, or smelled a flower, or watched a sunrise. I only remember the darkness, oozing across our shoulders and knees like an oil slick across a coral reef, as we blinded ourselves in a deep blue we will never reach.

I drag a pen over her bare thigh and write all the things I want to do to her. She laughs and grabs my wrist, crossing out the ones that will never happen.

*

I am irritable because I am hungry and I don’t know what I am hungry for. It’s not food, even though I wouldn’t mind, but something else. Maybe I am hungry for the blue of skies past or simply for raw flesh.

When I am like this, he gives me his arm to bite. I sink my teeth and suck at his skin and my own saliva. He shudders, but not from pain. I only bite to leave marks on him, to brand him as mine. He watches them fade with a smile on his face. We kiss, spit merging like rivers sweet and destructive.

In this place of cell blocks, marble gardens, police cars and strangers, we are wraiths playing with explosives, starting a thousand wars against normality.

While people are slaving away somewhere, we break into their apartments. We put on their clothes, wear their slippers, sit in their armchairs and call each other “darling” and “sweetheart.” We treat ourselves to bites of food and shots of liquor. We have some favourites we often go back to, so after fucking on their beds we make sure we leave everything as it was before we sneak out again.

In the beginning, he asked what would we do if someone returns home to find us there. I said they’d better not. I am irritable when I am hungry.

Cuddling each other in half-constructed buildings, monuments to petit-bourgeois ambition forever destined to remain naked brick and concrete, we talk about what our dream castle on a hill will be like. A castle of iridescent stone, with black ebony window frames and everlasting roses climbing its walls, overlooking our realm of flowers and sunrises. In such a place, even life may fit somewhere in our embrace.

As a moon of elf bone rises, hunger grows into a scream. We are the night searching for a meal.

*

Lighting a cigar, I let the tobacco hang in the air before planting the wet end deep inside a ruined candle. I’m wearing someone’s shirt, someone’s shoes, and none of their dreams. When we can find them we use their old bank statements as firelighters; we grind up their old family pictures and snort them up with much hacking and coughing. She tells me; this is memory rejecting against us. I’m not interested in memory anymore. Nostalgia is just an old man with terminal masturbation.

I sit down in an old wicker chair and feel the burn down the back of my throat as another gallop of Old Brandthrick trundles and fusses into my veins, obliterating anything with forward momentum. All points reset to zero, all rails set to the buffers. She walks across me, one foot taking the place of the other, and lifts her autumn dress to let in the air. I am nothing in this and yet I am everything; a flat piece of meat observing the opening of a rare flower. 

The Moon rises and cries to a symphony of two legged jackals. I have her courage and she has a knife. She drags her finger through the remains of our most recent bonfire and pushes the tip under my eyelids. With a kiss smeared down my cheeks she runs her tracks over the wet bones, the soot planting deep in my pores. I look into her eyes and she smiles and shakes her head. This is not a night for heroics; this is a night for being the night.

When I breathe out, my ribs rattle like wind-chimes in a spring breeze. My eyes search the swaying yellow grass for any unnatural movement. Behind me she swills an expensive tumbler full of cheap whiskey in a black ball-gown too big for her, hanging like a defiant flag from her shoulder blades. I know what seethes underneath but I need to concentrate now. My veins lift from tissue and bone as she sings a gentle song, rustling in tune to the dead field.

*

It’s time.

I sit on his lap, wrap my arms around his neck and look him in the eyes. Is he ready? He says yes, but not without the face this place has given him.

The eyes are the windows to the soul,” I say in all seriousness, and we both burst into a mocking laughter that could make the rising moon crack.

Why so sad?” I ask, and he looks at me as if he’s close to tears.

Don’t be mad,” I say, and he gives me a scowl worthy of an unworthy parent or a saint.

I want him to be happy, and happy he becomes, a trendy buffoon drinking his favourite soda in a commercial. And when I lift my dress, his eyes open wide in vestal innocence.

I paint his eyes with soot, burying them deep into stinking shadows. See? The windows to this soul are shut. Then I trace my blackened finger over his lips.

Bring out your dead,” I say.

We’ve been watching her ever since we saw her run over a couple of pigeons. She clapped her hands to congratulate herself, golden rings and dyed blonde hair gleaming in the sun. They had crapped on her car hood once too often – fucking flying rodents. We watched her speed down the road, leaving a mass of bloodied flesh and dirty feathers on the asphalt.

We buried the birds in the field of scorched grass, digging holes with our hands, saying a prayer for flowers to grow over their grave.

She unlocks the door to find him sprawled on the sofa.

Darling,” he says, “you’re home.”

Her hands are tied, her mouth is gagged. I can see the back of her shoulders rise and fall with her muffled sobbing. He apologises if his actions caused her any distress and messed up her makeup. In a soft, crooning voice he tells her how anger and bitterness have left tell-tale lines on her face.

Life is not as the romances promised. All these false ideas you swallowed without question led to disappointment, didn’t they? Now you take it out on those who can’t stand up to you.”

He takes a Swarovski bird miniature from a display cabinet full of refined useless objects. He holds it against the pendant lights, pretending it’s flying across the room, the colours of the rainbow flashing out of its open wings. Then he makes it land on the floor and crushes it under his foot.

Once you had another face. Do you think you can find it? Promise me you’ll try, and I’ll leave. You’ll never see me again.”

She nodds, furiously, and I expect there are more tears running down her cheeks. If I were her, I’d cry too if he told me I wouldn’t see him again.

There is a number you mustn’t call after I leave. Promise.”

More nodding, more passion into the gesture. He looks into her eyes.

I can believe many things,” he says. “But you… sweetheart, this is where I draw the line.”

But it’s me who draws the line. A perfect, straight red line across her throat.

*

Sitting in an old armchair, a new rain thick and glutinously falling through the holes in the roof, I carve slices of apple from a bloodstained razor. The sweet citrus mingles with the dark iron of oxygenated red and I cannot work out if I like this taste or not. I see her washing her hands in the trickle of a paste waterfall, the drizzle coated in dust and ash.

Bit excessive?”

She dries her hands on her already stained dress and pads over towards me. Backlit, the sun illuminates her hair like a neon Medusa and I stare and I stare because if I cannot live for the blood of others running over my own, I wish to be made of stone. She sits in my lap and flicks my nipple through my t-shirt.

We hole up in the old shack because the sound of sirens is too loud for fragile skulls soft from fetal-alcoholism and a lack of calcium. Downstairs the living room is rotting; upstairs all the walls are just faint traces on the floor and the only monuments are a lonely sink, a single rusting bedframe with the mattress now just a black stain on the floor nearby. Above, a single light fixture hangs sadly, ashamed to still be clinging on despite being powerless.

Ushering her off my lap I stand up. The sudden violence of the situation disturbed me, and now I feel high after the hit, my soul now spinning wildly like a ship caught in a whirlpool, caught up in a flashback of an event that is already in the past. Taking the ribbon out of her hair, I tie her wrists together and fasten them to the ceiling light above us. My heart thuds and echoes around the empty walls around us as I take another slice of bloody apple.

*

A line drawn, a line crossed. A first time for everything.

First time I saw him, standing in this room on the windowsill, shifting his weight back and forth. If he was a painting, he’d be called blackbird on a seesaw. I could have let him fall, because he had intruded on my solitude. I pulled him back. I didn’t save his life, I told him, and the flicker of anger in his eyes died down. I saved his death. It wasn’t a long fall down; no one would carry his broken ass to a hospital. He’d pass some very long last hours on earth, calling himself an idiot. He ought to find a taller building if he was serious about it. And make sure he was alone in there, or another lady might save the gentleman in distress.

He is eating an apple.

That same night I tied the knots for the first time, the rope once around his wrists, twice. His body passive, his eyes urging me on. They blazed like the fire burning where the sirens went, the one that cleansed that place from our presence. He had said “kill me,” but meant “fuck me.” Every time like a better first time, until we performed the ritual to perfection.

This is the first time we part with tradition. A first time may be the last time.

He is eating an apple. Not washing his eyes.

He says I must have been conceived underground; I’m bound to earth and she gives me my strength. As for him, he feels disconnected, only half aware of his surroundings most days. I shook my head the first time he told me what scenes he played behind his closed eyelids to soothe himself into existence.

He is eating an apple. Not washing his eyes. The knife in his hands.

Maybe I should have taken him at his word and killed him, or let him fall. He fed me his hunger seed after seed. It’s an irritating taste burning at the back of the throat, unable to say itself, coming out as a growl or a scream.

Another slice. The windows to this soul are shut.

I cross out the things he wants to do to me. He always writes them back. He isn’t one to forget easily, no matter how he claims he’s not interested in memory anymore. He is good at self-deception. What do you mean does he know it? Of course he does. Of course he doesn’t.

It’s getting hard to think as my wrists go numb. Perhaps it’s getting late too. Late for castles, flowers and sunrises.

I gave him what he wanted. So now what?

*

I place the tip of the blade against her breastbone, but then drive it slowly down opening the dress and revealing those familiar contours. All the violence of late has been so much empty vapour, and I struggle to breathe these days. Here in this fetid shack so rotten as to allow all our dreams to escape through the cracks. I turn my back as she flutters and dangles in the breeze like a flower with some of the petals plucked away and sit down on the floor. 

She once told me; there are none more cruel than those who believe themselves to be righteous. I’m not sure if I feel righteous but I feel cruel and I feel the force of it bleeding out of me from my shoulders down to my knees. Once I scrambled in a dark room at night, and now I find myself in a dark room with no windows and no hope of sunlight to one day illuminate everything. I need fire and nothing in this fucking place, this fucking town has the guts and the soul to burn.

Throw a few more bones under the mantelpiece; the dry crackle might just show us what we have left. I stand up, knife in hand, and stride over to her. It would be so easy to end everything now but I can’t bring myself to deprive the world of such depravity. I slice a lock of her hair and place it under my tongue before cutting the ribbon down around her wrists.

If I can’t escape the darkness, at least I’ll have the black.

*

He is drooling. Beaded strings hang from his chin, breaking, falling on his t-shirt. It’s mesmerising; a slow, fluid metamorphosis. Then the smell hits me: something metallic, something burned, like a nervous dog shooting the glands. It seeps through every pore of his body with such force it almost pushes me back. I slide a hand around his waist and pull him closer.

“You are a god now,” I whisper in his ear. “We are. We had nothing else. We’d be gods or nothing. We agreed on gods.”

I catch the beads with my tongue, lick them off his chin. His saliva is a sharp, straight aphrodisiac of apple, blood and doubt, streaming from his mouth to the rhythm of his thudding heart.

“Breathe. You were just born.”

I drink; my heart quickens. Finally, he spits that strand of hair on the floor and we kiss like rivers.

“Do you?”

“I do.”

“Fuck me.”

I don’t want to take the knife, but he makes me, squeezing my fingers around the handle. The temptation to push it in his belly is tremendous. I’d hear the sound of his skin tearing; I’d get to see what his disloyal insides are like, while he’d be waiting for me at our castle on a hill, warm and new. The idea almost makes me come.

I shake my head.

I won’t choose how this ends.” Bringing his hand to my lips, I sink my teeth in his flesh. He shudders and finds the knife in his hand again.

*

I have a handful of her behind as she straddles me, pounding down into my lap with so many gasps and creaks that I don’t know what is human, animal or just the weak floor underneath us. Her hair cracks around my face as I feel the warmth in my lap, leaking onto my thighs; moans, shrieks and ice deep in my stomach.

When I open my eyes, it is already grey around the edges. She continues to pound away bur everything is dying and I am staring at a clenched fist pressed against my own stomach with a knife somewhere inside it all. Her sex mingles with the blood now pouring out of me, but still she maintains those furious eyes on mine, daring me to pass out before she is done.

My vision fades like the ripples of a pond in reverse, contracting and drawing everything in. My hand slides away from her buttock and finally lets go of the blade hilt. With this release I suddenly feel sharp pain, as though the knife has become this destructive object in that moment. She still slams down on me but it is useless, just a pointless slap of flesh on blood. The groans turn to growls, the moans into a seething frustration as I slip away beneath her like winter mist as the sun breaks through.

We’d agreed on gods. I am no god, but neither would I ever want to be mortal. This made sense to me. My eyes narrow to a single circle of fading light; of shiny gritted teeth and piercing white eyes. She’s slapping and punching my shoulders but I can’t feel it anymore. I feel weightless but I’m not flying to the above. Our kind – my kind – we only slide down, just so much water trickling between the gaps in the floor and growing putrid where there is no light.

Time to sleep now. No gods, only monsters. And truly, for a short time, we were monstrously magnificent.

*

Photography by Jimmi Campkin

Jimmi Campkin is a writer, photographer and creator of SANCTUARY. If you’re not familiar with his work, you’re missing plenty. Go to jimmicampkin.com to read more of his writing and see his complete photography gallery.

 

 

© Jimmi Campkin & Basilike Pappa, 2019

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Nation & Decoration (part 5): Bojana Stojcic & Basilike Pappa

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A number of experiments have revealed it does not take more than five seconds for someone to judge you when you meet for the first time, forming an opinion based on the way you look and behave. Take our advice: don’t be yourself or you’ll spoil it. Making a positive first impression means pretending to be someone you are not – civil, considerate and law-abiding. A smile is always a winner, along with a handful of promises and a positive approach. Do not despair if you flop badly though as supposedly it takes another twenty experiences for someone to change their initial belief. If you are not sure about your mannerisms, demeanor and language, let your house do the talking. Wow your guests by offering them an amusement ride through your brand new world but check first they hold onto the bars to ensure they survive falling off the horses. Do not worry if the experience seems surreal even to you. On the bright side, it’s better than real. It’s pretend.

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Joy ride (the wheels on the car go round and round)

Inviting people to your newly-decorated house is intended to invite good luck. Still, it may be as frightening as ceremonial ship launching. What if a sacrificial bottle of champagne does not break? You can relax. Nation & Decoration assures you your guests will be so fascinated by your fancy driveway that they will hardly get their own name out of their mouth, let alone talk about serious stuff, which generally scares you to death. Here’s a quick tip: use sarcasm as a mask for your insecurity and a lack of knowledge in a particular field. If you have a bad sense of humor, forget about it, and help us help you by advertising our business and products, specially designed to withstand whatever wear and tear your driveway may see, including extreme temperatures, freeze-thaw cycles and extensive everyday activity.

Driveways tend to be unfairly perceived as nothing but concrete slabs. Big mistake! In our opinion, they need to play a big role in your home’s appearance and are crucial in image management which should by no means be a one-time thing, but rather an ongoing process. Let’s face it, your current image does not say much about you. Actually it says you are a stressed, unreliable, and dangerously arrogant and promiscuous jerk who has garnered plenty of attention for lambasting other people’s (presidents’) policies and actions. With a little help from our eminent designers, you will get a great-looking driveway that will boost the value of both your precious home and your not so precious self. In short, we will assist you in determining ways you could change to project a more positive first impression and/or control what others see, which will hopefully enhance your status and induce likeability in the long run.

The quality of flaunting your wealth invited hostility long before you came on the scene so don’t be surprised that your spending habits have become one of the most common topics of discussion in the media or elsewhere. Other people have it too, but not necessarily your talent. Imagine making a frugal car purchase or, even worse, not knowing what apartment buildings, hotels and aircraft to buy. Pathetic, isn’t it? Your willingness to invest in the driveway will show visitors you are a force to be reckoned with. Therefore, instead of spending your precious time on improving yourself, you ought to invest money you have in abundance in resurfacing your driveway (that is things such as decorative brick or cobblestone, block paving, gravel or decomposed granite). Keep in mind a well-designed driveway is supposed to provide a framework, whereas an extravagant car collection every billionaire needs to have in their possession will be more than enough to provide the content.

Although some people might think refinement and size are just about everything your land yachts have to offer, you should know better. You will be envied one way or the other. The bottom line is some like it hot, while others like it big and classy, obviously to compensate for their apparent smallness in other departments, but hey, at least you have the cars. Take our word for it – few people can resist sheer luxury and spaciousness. Besides, it’s not every day we see such beauties cruising down the road, let alone come face to face with them. To keep everyone’s mouth shut, show off your awe-inspiring collection of expensive cars, from the most obvious models such as Rolls Royce and Mercedes-Benz to the inevitable Ferrari, classic Cadillac, good old Chevy, stylish Lamborghini, and a beastly extravagant limo, all coming with some great stories. Do not forget to put the most incredible car you own on display, built to suit your needs and lifestyle, that is equipped with the James Bond-type safety advances (read: the ability to withstand small arms fire and small explosive devices).

While thinking of the ways to trick the Forbes list into showing your wealth has declined, make sure you have your coat of arms created and give some spare change to charity every now and then. The latter as a rule helps make a great impression and gain/keep a clear conscience. Come to think of it, the whole charity thing has made you pretty tired, right? Why don’t you board your private jet with leather seats for 43 passengers, 24-karat gold seat-belt buckles, TV screens, two bedrooms, and plenty of gold-trimmed details, fly to your super-luxury water villa in the Maldives and let your guests wonder – what’s with the gold obsession anyway?!

Guns n’ Roses (do the hokey pokey and turn yourself around)

You long for appreciation and like to be in the center of attention but fail to have a standing ovation due to the morals of a scam artist and the methods of a shyster. A guest-ready garden speaks volumes about your character so keep your mouth shut whenever possible and take your visitors out front. With a few tricks, you can achieve a more aesthetically appealing environment, in which it will be easier to turn a blind eye to human rights abuses. Mesmerized by your world of make-believe, your guests will gradually stop frowning even on your readiness to go to war to make a profit and boost your ratings, despite the fact you have never served in the military and are disrespectful to veterans. Our acknowledged experts will assist you by choosing comfy outdoor furniture that fits your garden style, as well as your personality. For one thing, you may want to consider investing in premium-quality pieces that are built to last: corner sofas, ottomans, sun umbrellas, a bar table, stools, BBQ, and even a small outdoor heater when evenings get cooler. One of the recent changes in interior design trends has been the use of curves and smooth edges as a way to get your way. Wooden furniture with its sophisticated natural look is always a smart choice. Luxurious teak is another great option, which, if properly maintained, could outlive your frivolous tweets while at the same time preventing your garden from becoming ‘a dumping ground for everyone else’s problems.’

Lanterns, sun-loungers, and national flags of friendly, rich countries are a trendy addition that could add a personal touch to your outdoor setting. You may need to steer clear of ‘extraordinarily low I.Q,’ ‘inferior intelligence of black people’ and ‘get that son of a bitch off the field right now’ rhetoric when your guests ‘come from shithole countries’. To avoid the feeling of discomfort due to their refusal to stand for the National Anthem, the least you can do is ditch the Flags of our Fathers if you haven’t been able to stop seeing radical Islamic terrorists everywhere. Moreover, rumor has it you actually have to include Jews in your anti-Semitic ideology. Show your guests you can be the perfect host by (temporarily) getting rid of front and backyard fire pits, hate speech and attitude on border walls since they pose environmental hazards, along with a global change in thinking.

Garden ornaments have recently been welcomed back into the fashion. Hand-crafted stone statues of meditating frogs, cherubs on pedestal, gargoyles and dragons will satisfy everyone’s taste. Our professionals propose impressively powerful crouching griffins as gate keepers, that is guardians of the divine, suggesting you ‘abandon every hope, who enter here’. Bitumen sculptures that look like melting molasses are equally effective, accentuating never-ending transformations and transience while smartly concealing your love for tarring and feathering. Grotesque garden gnomes are gaining in popularity as well. Whether they pursue a leisurely pastime, fishing in a pool without fish and napping while the world is falling apart or wear executioners’ hoods and stab each other in the back, you have to admit they are adorable. However, as they are traditionally male, showing that sexual equality in the gnome world is only a pipe dream, don’t forget to hide them if you want ardent feminists off your back. Having a small garden pond is very modern nowadays too. Even though it might be a reminder you are a cast out of the duck pond, often teased for your own faults, make no mistake you are slowly turning into a narcissistic swan that will eventually be accepted among other animals and treated as an equal. Bear in mind at all times your guests’ attention needs to be kept so strongly on the water, luscious greenery, works of art and juicy Mexican gardeners and grilled meats that they find it impossible to look away. Under no circumstance are you to mention the past since they could realize the hollowness of the value system and remember better days easier than you think. Voter shortsightedness is your best card so do everything in your power to prevent even a mild degree of myopia from being corrected by disposing of glasses. If they start to question though, pour them another drink. When needed, turn to bribery for total memory erasure and lasting voter gratitude. It may be early for history, but it is never too late for historical revisionism.

Whatever you do, do not allow the house or garden to steal the show for they ought to give a grandiose view of your own appearance and emphasize your talents and aptitudes. No worries, other people’s pursuit of truth cannot and will not overshadow your relentless lies. You and you alone have weaponized nonsense that, thank god, never goes out of stock so they better see ‘the bigness of it all’. After all, you are the real Shady. All other Slim Shadys are just imitating.

 

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I owe a big thanks to Bojana Stojcic for writing with me. If I wasn’t me, I’d like to be her. Until we do this again, I’ll be enjoying her dark but true verse, addictive commentaries and caustic sense of humor. If you want a taste but don’t know where to start, try her memories from war, Weber for parents, and a poem you shouldn’t miss.

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© Basilike Pappa & Bojana Stojcic, 2019

Photography: Seph Lawless

Nation & Decoration (part 4): Bojana Stojcic & Basilike Pappa

BUY ANY PRODUCT FROM OUR DECORATION GALLERY 1, GALLERY 2 OR GALLERY 3 NOW AND GET TODAY’S OFFERS FREE!!!

(If you are not satisfied with an item you have purchased, you can return it within 30 days from the order date for a full refund of the purchase price, minus the shipping.)

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You have an ideal job, an ideal house, an ideal family and overall lead an ideal life. Alas, it is just for show. In reality, it is all more like a boring screenplay with a vague notion about the plot and you as a lead character. Let our interior designers help you get your life back on track by redecorating your house and changing your pursuits until you become a full-time member of the cutthroat world and stop giving a crap about anyone but yourself.

Men in Tights (if you’re happy and you know it)

We have all had just about enough of the limitations that come with age and interior design styles. Women in the throes of MLC have an all-inclusive package today: xanax, a handsome yoga instructor, a cone bra a la Madonna, an autobiographical novel and Botox to wipe the misery off of their faces. Besides, it is also wives who have exclusive rights to exploit their talents and decorate their home, which can be a real nightmare for men’s OCD and emasculate them by leaving them little room to properly express themselves, drinking, smoking, farting, and being (for once) right.

Men may also find it tricky to strike the right chord with their target audience, that is when selling themselves while remaining relatable. To deal with this injustice, the Nation & Decoration team has come up with ideas that will turn your garage into a statement against feminine domestic authority and help create your own getaway where you could take up a hobby or hang out with your male friends.

Fun’s for the young’ belongs to the past as it is never too late to start an awful band, recapture hard-partying youth and interrupt your family’s and neighbors’ lives. Stop burdening yourself with soundproofing (what’s the use of putting your heart and soul into making music if it’s for your ears only), as well as a lack of music education (it’s overrated too). When there are lonely suburban hubs and fathers, neurotic wives, confused teenage children, the burden of living next door to Alice, microphone stands, amplifiers, passion and inspiration, you cannot go wrong. Don’t be another middle-aged man on guitar, desperately seeking Susan and band mates. Find them and practice basic chords together, gradually progressing to the greatest ’80s hits of all time, in your newly decorated garage until your fingers bleed (i.e. into the wee hours, even on work nights). We cannot guarantee that your wife and kids will be delighted to see musical midlife crisis making an updated comeback so better get used to the ‘just fuck another woman already’ or ‘dad, shut up, we’re trying to sleep’ chorus, and remain composed. We do not expect somebody who thinks their best years are behind them to understand you, let alone someone who likes to watch a girl hanging atop a Wrecking Ball to respect your music taste. Remind wife again you have no interest in sex whatsoever (at least not with her) and the brats this is a journey for the young at heart.

Since you may be out of touch with the market, our celebrated professionals will assist you with tips on building a proper rock star image. Push the boundaries of taste some more by teasing your hair, and digging out your leopard-print spandex and shoulder pads. If you opt for an eye patch and a neckerchief, you might need an adequate alter ego, something as original as Ziggy Stardust. Get your first tattoo, an army of groupies and a camper van, and hit the road and top music festivals. When at home, give the lady of the house a chance to live out her teen dream of hanging out with the band by carrying equipment, setting up lighting, managing sound levels, serving beer and cleaning up the mess (if she wants to give you a lap dance, she needs to deserve it). Should your fooling around with other fans infuriate her, tell her it’s only rock ‘n’ roll. If you yourself ever get tired of your Boys from the Hood, our designers propose buying an unsuitably-powerful racing bike and joining other middle-aged men in lycra. At least your MLC is less dangerous than acquiring a tastelessly expensive motorbike.

When looking to bring in eclectic design styles into your home, think big and remember the best breweries usually start as home brewing in a converted garage. Now you too can have your guests watch distribution from brewery to glass with its boilers, fermenters, and a fridge transformed into a five beer tap system. Divert your unwanted visitors’ attention away from your mistakes and real problems by getting them roaring drunk, encouraging them to sit behind the wheel and speed off (safe driving is for pussies anyway). When making your own beer at home, there are a couple of things you need to know. Plenty of brewers use at least one electrical appliance in the course of a brew day. A typical garage being electrically malnourished, you may need the electrical service upgraded to include a dedicated circuit-breaker panel for multiple circuits in order to handle heavy power consumption. Electrical work is generally not a DIY thing. However, our professionals trust your competence. What does a pro know that you don’t, right? Having said this, we also suggest you steal power from your neighbors, which is particularly convenient if the pole is in between your houses. By doing this, you will not only be able to support your equipment but also prove how resourceful you are. The worst thing that can happen to you is electrocution but don’t despair – you come out ahead no matter what you try; you were born under a lucky star.

If you want to make a habit of spending time in the garage, keep in mind the floor is almost always the second-dirtiest thing in the world (your mind being number one). Fortunately, there are more than enough options when it comes to making the oil-stained concrete floor look good. Get your wife to scrub it on all fours, preferably with a mild, acidic cleaning solution that can be obtained at our hardware stores. Having created a clean pallet, use the best garage floor paint you can find on the market, i.e. our popular epoxy acrylic product. For a more resilient and costly alternative, move up to our industrial epoxy coating. This will naturally require extensive surface preparation so make certain you recruit your children and their friends, promising to pay them and, when they get the job done, simply don’t. This will teach them a valuable lesson on how to treat their own employees later in life. Lastly, many homeowners are nowadays turning to rubber overlays or composite products to top off floors. Nation & Decoration also offers large mats and rolled sheets in various colors and sizes, cut to fit your space. You won’t make a mistake whichever you choose. The bottom line is your wife will be happy as all these clean easily and are generally impervious to petrochemicals, antifreeze, household cleaning agents, sperm and vomit.

Our eminent designers advise keeping the garage as simple as possible since you do not have to behave here or worry about what others think. Harsh fluorescent bulbs, a vending machine, nude calendars and posters on the walls and a couple of sofas are enough to provide it with a no-nonsense look. Make sure you install a safe garage door as well. Instead of consulting the owner’s manual, we would visually inspect the garage door each month, looking at cables, springs, rollers, and pulleys for signs of wear. Don’t listen to safety maintenance companies trying to sell you a trained technician when you can do all this on your own. It is a well-known fact everything is a matter of perspective and self-esteem. After all, you can explain possible dangers to children by placing your fingers between door sections. Needless to say, ensure the garage door opener control is out of wife’s and kids’ reach. Now lie back and enjoy your solitude, masturbating to a vintage gay hardcore magazine until you go weak at the knees. The lack of heat and air conditioning should not be an issue as your transition from a warm-blooded animal into a cold-blooded one and vice versa literally takes seconds.

The garage is your retreat so it is more than ok to have the guilty pleasure of building small tracks and playing with model railways too because your love for choo choo trains holds a big place in your heart. Don’t take it seriously if you are mocked for your teeny tiny houses and engines, especially by two-time losers who are desperately unenthusiastic about anything. With digital command controls and all that jazz, this is clearly more than just a toy so don’t waste your breath. When it comes to illegal stimulants, your children are, in our opinion, big enough to see you consuming them. They are doing it themselves anyway so stop hiding. However, they might moan about your laid-back nature, lack of authority and interest in their problems. The key to using rewards and punishment effectively is to make them tangible and worthwhile, respectively, if you want to manage their behavior the right way. If you ground them and take their cell phones (or at least bribe them), they will surely stop cutting classes and the idea of dropping out of school will never again cross their mind. On the other hand, it won’t be the end of the world even if they do. You went to college and see how it all turned out. Better get the best earplugs, shut everybody out, and go on pumping iron. Your infatuation with an attractive neighbor half your age is a project that needs detailed planning if you want to make your dream come true.

The man in turmoil over his stale existence is a tale as old as time. Don’t fall into a trap because now you have the garage all to yourself where you can disappear for hours while never leaving your home. Your loved ones will eventually accept your choices and won’t stand in your way if you want to make a mess of your life, that is until you make a mess of theirs. By then, we will probably be out of reach. Be that as it may, you should still know one thing – nothing is irreparable. When things go from bad to worse, resort to the good old tool box to fix what’s broken.

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Photography: Seph Lawless

© Basilike Pappa & Bojana Stojcic, 2019

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Still haven’t read Bojana Stojcic’s work? Tsk-tsk. Go right now to her blog Bojana’s Coffee & Confessions to Go

This is a sample of how she lived through war

This is how she is a mom

This is how she speaks her mind

This is how she feels love

This is how she thinks

And this is a poem you shouldn’t miss

 

Nation & Decoration (part 3): Bojana Stojcic & Basilike Pappa

BUY ANY PRODUCT FROM OUR DECORATION GALLERY 1 OR GALLERY 2 NOW AND GET TODAY’S OFFERS FREE!!!

JOIN OUR WORLDWIDE HAPPY HOUR AND STAY TUNED FOR SEASONAL SALES.

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Do you have a feeling your life is too hectic and out of control? Do you sometimes wish you could get off the rollercoaster and slow things down? Do you crave a refuge where you can have alone time and unwind whenever you please?

Our prominent designers will be more than happy to assist you with suggestions on a full house reno, including advice on how to create your own private retreat in your home. Your only task is to trust our choices, plan hours of pure enjoyment, turn on the music (nothing noisy and distracting) and let your hair down. Vogue is capricious, like weather, but style lasts forever. We will do our best to help you find a signature one because once you have it, it is there to stay so it better be good.

Battleship Potemkin (we’re going down down down)

Remodeling basements might be a daunting task. Untidy, gloomy and uninhabitable, they frequently convince homeowners to shift their focus elsewhere. However, the basement has come a long way from being merely a dank storage space that rarely sees the light. The modern one balances between aesthetics and functionality so it has to not only look and feel right but also be suitable for a variety of purposes. Here are some ideas that will help transform it into a sanctuary and a valuable asset to your property.

Learn from the worst, as Hitler and Goebbels, and turn interior design into propaganda and your home into a public-relations campaign. A well-decorated basement will enable you to sell yourself better, erasing all the bad connotations and building the myth of a man of culture and taste people can trust. Let it serve as a friendly façade to disguise your political objectives and strategic goals, hide your hostility, and fool the general public. To accomplish this, convert it into a home theater room that meets requirements for sound, lighting and comfort. Remember to be generous to movie people if you want to be the leading actor in a blockbuster hit about a just society fighting outside international oppression, vicious and murderous. A cellarette for storing bottles of alcoholic beverages, obtainable in various shapes and designs, is something kids will love. (Make sure you introduce them to the bar on time so that they can respect you more when the time comes. Mind you, young age is no excuse for sobriety). What could be more fun and educational than observational learning which requires a social model such as a parent, a teacher and/or the nation’s paterfamilias inclined to vice and stereotypes, apart from justifying date rape, glorifying bullying and mobbing and boosting jingoism?

You may also wish to make an office space out of your basement by furnishing it with filing cabinets, an L-shaped desk, an office chair, a phone unit, and a laptop, convenient for watching child porn or talking dirty with busty blondes. A game room with multiple computers and different-sized speakers is another popular option, particularly when the man of the house needs a man cave to call his own. Just imagine inviting your buddies over for an all-night Bolsomito 2K18 marathon and fighting the evil of communism and corruption by attacking women, minorities and LGBTQ people. Oh bliss!

Our acclaimed experts propose saving some room for a storage area as well to avoid your home appearing disorderly. A good organization is half the job done so why not make a list:

Items to store behind closed doors: fears, repressed desires, insecurity, self-pity, shame, aggression, jealousy, an inferiority complex and a small penis

Items to store on open shelves: hatred toward people who hold different political or religious views, generalizations, discrimination, manipulation, opportunism, primitivism, snobbery, cognitive and confirmation biases

Cling tight to convictions that give your life meaning, such as picture-perfect faith and allegiance to nation, by settling on black and white color schemes. Applying the same color to walls, moldings and ceilings while painting them with a very broad prejudice brush, will result in a false consensus and convey the impression that the barriers that are walls seemingly disappear. Such a choice is prevalent in houses where one thinks the collective opinion of their own group matches that of the larger population. Be that as it may, this is your home so the rest can shove it. A neocolonial revival works miracles with the redecorating too, our fave trend being wall-to-wall carpeting for an extra sense of uniformity as the finishing touch.

Last but not least, don’t forget to make room for law and order, that is the laundry corner suited for washing your dirty linen, because cleanliness is next to godliness. In case of basement moisture, which encourages mold and damages floors and walls, threatening to destroy the foundation of the house, clear gutters and fix footing drains. After you have successfully drained the swamp, your home will emerge as centralizing Babylon and you a liberator-messiah leader who may go back to chants of the self-proclaimed righteous, worldly prosperity and godly providence (for in god we trust).

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Triumph of the Will (we’re going up up up)

When the spirits are low, the discrepancy between your actual and ideal self, along with the consequences of Paris Agreement withdrawal, health plans and playing god, can lead to anxiety and emotional pain, feeling vulnerable, incompetent, and even stupid. When all hell breaks loose, consider the attic where you might shut yourself off, ignoring appeals for help, and find your way back to your old self – immoral, vain, über-confident, offensive, ignorant, faithless-blaming, and power- and blood-thirsty. That being said, the loft has the potential to become a spot under a shady tree, your favorite hideaway from too much reality where you can regularly stimulate your genitals to vent and get your shit together.

Many of us go for years without setting foot in the attic that is more often than not either empty or full of clutter, dust and mold on our boxes, treasure chests, emotions, thoughts and personality. Unless we make a habit of decluttering it, the mess could lead to poor energy efficiency, pest and memory infestations, and overall damage to insulation and psyche. Given that mold may give rise to mood swings, increased verbal fighting, poor empathy, insight and boundary awareness, you should start the cleaning adventure ASAP by taking a few steps our designers propose.

First, put on gloves to protect your hands as they have a tendency to get dirty when committing filthy and immoral actions. Second, mold, like other people’s suffering, is disgusting and unnecessary to look at. Since it is probably contagious, you need to take measures to prevent the spread of disease and guilty conscience. Put on a face mask for the sake of sadism revisited, preservation of personal pureness and your country’s continued existence at the expense of someone else’s misery. Finally, beware of roof and news leaks. Information embarrassing political opponents is always welcome as opposed to the one causing harm to both your reputation and national security. Make certain you fix the roof and check for stains on the ceiling to avoid a potential disaster to the whole house. You also ought to attempt to illuminate the place by using soothing orange or light green, ideal for a neat and clean-cut appearance and a fresh new start. Furthermore, our professionals recommend installing drop-down stairs, rather than adding a fixed stairway, and putting a ‘Please go away, I don’t care’ sign on the attic door, subtly letting intruders know you are disturbed already.

When it comes to selecting furniture, our team would choose simplicity: a bed, a nightstand, a blow-up doll you will want to put a ring on and a loveseat, great for tucking under a knee wall, and meditating on the holy trinity of your Achievements, Ambitions and Aspirations, as well as making taxes anything but simple, transparent, flatter, and fair. In addition, putting the bed under a skylight will create an impression that you sleep under the stars while contemplating poverty, starvation, wars, school shootings, peaceful resolutions and violence prevention…or, on second thought, excessive food, drug and alcohol consumption with lots of booty shaking, backroom hookups and no drama. As you are thinking of the ways to earn more money, win the public to your side and use media to win elections, one thing is certain – the attic room will undoubtedly make you feel closer to god.

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If you are not familiar with Bojana Stojcic’s work, it’s never too late. Visit her blog Bojana’s Coffee & Confessions to Go and see what you’ve been missing.

For political parental advice, try this

For her hard and dark poetry, go to this

For a taste of life in the Balkans, read this

 

© Basilike Pappa & Bojana Stojcic, 2019

Photography: Seph Lawless

Nation & Decoration (part 2): Bojana Stojcic & Basilike Pappa

BUY ANY PRODUCT FROM OUR DECORATION GALLERY 1 NOW AND GET TODAY’S OFFERS FREE!!!

WE WISH YOU A MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR. STAY WELL AND GOD BLESS THE NATION.

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As you spend plenty of time in your home, it not only needs to be beautiful, cozy and practical, but it also needs to look presentable for both expected guests and unexpected visitors. Blending all four may be tricky. However, you are in good hands because there is not a single challenge our distinguished interior designers cannot rise to.

History repeats itself, which pretty much holds true in the fashion world as well. Contrary to popular belief, there are rarely new trends and we witness modernized adaptations of old works all the time. Vintage furniture, hysterical women in a state of sublime admiration of their kitchen toys, and crying in the bathroom are back into fashion, which is great news for both you and your lovely missus. Keep one thing in mind though: if the little wifie starts bitching too much and too often, enforce new rules in a classy way, like when asking your guests to respect your no shoe policy. Please stay tuned for our Depeche Mode to find out more.

Desperate housewives vs. WASP (thumb thumb thumb your chest)

The modern bathroom is a refined take on a classic theme that is coming back with a vengeance and can turn even a box-sized one into a wonderful place of contemplation and reflection for both him and her.

Being a wife, mom and neighbor is no easy, let alone laughing out loud. We are sure there are times when you wish you could be a judge, ordering the seclusion of the jury. Chin up. Our well-known designers will help make your home-based withdrawal worthwhile by transforming your bathroom into a space where you may quieten the mind. Whether you weep by the sink or cry in huge sobs in public, you might get to hear ‘is everything ok’ or ‘can I call somebody for you ma’am’ questions from passers-by. To avoid this, our team proposes crying out loud in the ensuite bathroom so as to eventually go back to the kitchen singing with spirit.

Since you spend a significant chunk of time consumed by guilt, let us try turning your feeling terribly guilty all the time to feeling mildly guilty all the time. It might take several weeks, sometimes months, for the drugs we have prescribed to reach their full therapeutic effect so we advise you to learn patience. The medicine cabinet should be your last resort. Make certain you have exhausted all other options before grabbing antidepressants. One of the ways to feel less resentful and masochistic and free yourself of guilt and shame at least temporarily is to treat yourself with a regular bubble bath. Pour yourself some wine first and lock the door if you need an excuse for drunk crying too. Additionally, if you disapprove of new interior design trends taking shape, as egalitarianism and humanism, better stick to the old ones. In case you have been hanging out with infected people, use a good lotion, sponge and scrub to deep clean your body and mind. Now that you are all shiny and new, you can return to your household chores. To create lasting happiness in your life, we recommend a dildo and pot on a daily basis, and should you begin to feel ashamed again, shame on you.

Being the man of the house is equally stressful because, while redecorating your home, you have to continually remind yourself that a well-thought-out bathroom may be both a gift to you and a source of never-ending compliments from your guests. Hence, you need thorough planning before opening it for public worship. Our professionals propose stylish bleached-out décor for a calm, clean look of your ensuite and guest bathroom, clinical white supremacy being in the spirit of urban living nowadays. Even if you are a dedicated color lover, trust us when we say that everything, from the tiles to the towels, must be monochromatic due to the historical dominance of white color and a still life effect, unlikely to produce a change in the current social, cultural, political and institutional paradigm.

Color mixing is a trend we can at last kiss goodbye. Today’s bathroom is strongly against miscegenation and in favor of feeling good in your white skin. The aim of creating a white marble bathroom is to call religious and racial bigotry into memory, fight Black emancipation on all fronts and achieve a feeling of genetic purity that both you and your Caucasian friends will be sure to love. Contemporary trends in design suggest all-white faucets, along with a white bathtub, to match your fair complexion, magically combined with monolithic counters, eugenic porcelain, Nordic tiles and soft Aryan fabrics for a complete supremacist look that feels just right for you.

One of the musts when renovating the bathroom is bricking up the window, notorious for encouraging interaction with the outside world, threatening to turn into a redundant fascination with the unknown and a change of perspective which, god forbid, might be permanent especially with women. Therefore, you ought to apply thick layers of top-quality cement to ensure that your attitudes and beliefs stay the same. We advise installing a robust extractor fan as well so that your foul smells could unrestrictedly leave your private space and permeate the rest of society. You can bring some life into the bathroom by incorporating plants such as far-right grassroots, all-time-classic lilies, Astroturf carpeting, and dumb canes to induce speechlessness with your guests (for a long-lasting impact, let them chew).

A large mirror of impenetrable ego-boosting crystal, extending from the washbasin to the ceiling, will make it crystal clear you want to maintain an inflated style and sense of self while performing your Ku-Klux-Klan rituals and practicing your Nazi salute to perfection. Needless to say, a bold piece of art, as well as invisible speakers on the wall playing the white power music, is mandatory in your bathroom. If it exceeds your budget, you can find equally stunning counterparts made in Vietnam without compromising with vogue and principles. If you are not into artifacts, why don’t you try derogatory art prints? (Art is overrated anyway). Lastly, add a crystal-studded toilet and take great pleasure in shitting while pondering totalitarian Sirius in a galaxy encompassing billions of subordinate stars.

Simple minds (wag wag wag your tail)

The way to a man’s heart comes from the most unexpected places, the fact it is most often through his stomach being the least unusual one. Instead of wasting your time thinking of reinventing yourself, our professionals advise obedience for immediate results and sticking to what you know — being desperate.

Ladies, stop believing in fairy tales about equal rights and opportunities for men and women and reading empowering feminist crap such as ‘first you sink into his arms, then your arms end up in his sink’. You are better than that because you thrive on simplicity, and belong in the most important place where decisions are made, namely the kitchen. We assure you housekeeping accomplishments and culinary skills are far more significant than a paycheck, let alone entering the boardroom. Nation & Decoration, therefore, encourages you to raise up your voice when calling him Daddy and screaming his name during penetration on the table. Satisfy your hub’s insatiable appetite for cookies and role play, best when hot and homemade, and he will make sure he pays you by direct deposit. If you are, on the other hand, hopeless in the kitchen, put on the Kiss the Cook apron and turn his mom’s recipes into a flawless family cookbook, at least until the guests are gone. Cooking is like hitchhiking. What can possibly go wrong?! In case the smoke detector does go off, rest assured it is because you are smoking hot.

Gentlemen, surprise your worse halves by having the 50s retro kitchen installed right away. It is a hip trend whose ageless design is a reminiscent of a time of comfort and conformity, allowing women to have everything they are supposed to dream of and be miserable regardless.

Even though the woman has been held under house arrest and sentenced to five consecutive terms of life in prison without the possibility of parole, luckily enough, the kitchen has evolved into a central space around which daily routines revolve. Opening it toward the rest of the premises keeps the family united, at the same time creating the illusion of the freedom of movement, speech and thought. An open layout is, consequently, critical for the social life of the family since the ever-smiling housewife may keep an eye on everyone in the household while fixing hubby’s favorite scapegoat dishes and cold war drinks for the guests who are more than welcome to join her in the kitchen. While ladies are gossiping and watching TV ads on the ideal living style, men are smoking, drinking, talking shop, telling crude jokes and asking why dinner is not ready yet. Open shelving is also becoming increasingly popular with the homeowner who wants to make a statement in the kitchen by cracking the whip before dinner and putting his insignificant other on display after it. What better way to adorn such shelves than with Tupperware boxes which are a proof of the capitalistic values you two share, paying homage to materialism and consumer culture. Our team also suggest choosing the cabinets in light pastel hues of cheerful pink, going hand in hand with the essence of femininity. Furthermore, you will hit it out of the park if you combine them with simple yet ergonomic counters that are just begging women to roll up their sleeves and men to slide down their pants.

When talking about kitchen appliances, our experts would go for stoves and fridges which blend a vintage vibe with modern performance. Of course, they change the overall character of the kitchen, along with that of the woman, who will become sweeter and more submissive to her husband. The groundbreaking Kinder-Küche-Kirche company offers a splendid array of up-to-date, retro-styled electrical devices, as well as matching pink frilly underwear and sexy waitress costumes, bearing the prestigious Reverend Tyrer signature to lift your spirits. Not only will you be ready to present your husband with delicious meals when he comes back home, but you will also serve him with a smile. What more could you wish for?! If things do not work out as planned though, try using the oven to reheat passion (instead of the microwave, considered unhealthy for many reasons today). Note that since in the oven food heats outside first, some things can burn outside while the interior stays cold. For lasting peace, our female colleagues tend to decrease the temperature and increase the cooking time.

Pendant lights of steel as stainless as your virtue will bring the 50s back to life too. Believe us, there is nothing as simple as simple- and narrow-mindedness. Stop burdening your brain with a meaningful life outside the kitchen and concentrate on hanging those lights rather than hanging yourself. What are you waiting for? S-m-i-l-e for Daddy, add a checkerboard floor in Coca-Cola red and white, a polka dot backsplash or wallpaper, and live your kitchen life at full throttle.

Fortunately, digital technology will continue to bring the future to your door. By pressing a button, your nostalgically-designed vinyl floor is soon going to turn into a treadmill so you could actually work out without leaving the kitchen. Nothing compares to the sight of an ideal housewife who looks after her body while cooking for her handsome husband and life-sucking kids. Bon appétit and keep walking.

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Photography: Seph Lawless

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If you are not familiar with Bojana Stojcic’s work, it’s never too late. Visit her blog Bojana’s Coffee & Confessions to Go and see what you’ve been missing.

For political parental advice, try this

For her hard and dark poetry, go to this

For a taste of life in the Balkans, read this

 

 

 

© Basilike Pappa & Bojana Stojcic, 2018

Nation & Decoration (part 1): Bojana Stojcic & Basilike Pappa

Tips on interior design oftentimes seduce but seldom rattle. You are not sure what is fashionable these days and what went out of fashion? Our international team of experienced designers will give you useful ideas for your home and make valuable suggestions on how to keep up with the Joneses while staying original and true to yourself, as well as offer you a broad range of domestic animals to chose from our 24/7 animal farms.

As you might have noticed, vintage interior design trends are hot new trends which, truth be told, we can never get tired of. At one point, while lying on their deathbed, they confessed their crimes and misdemeanors, but have, luckily, recovered and taken a new shape and turn for the better, that is rightward and outward.

Fashion constantly reinvents itself, which is why trends come back over and over. What is funny and outmoded today, like old pictures of your dad’s hairstyle, may become cool again. Just because a trend, such as armchairs covered in velvet or people wired for prejudice, is dated doesn’t mean it’s bad. With the proper advice from our renowned experts, you will once again find it chic, smooth, comforting and mandatory if you want to be trendy nowadays. Louis XIV lived in the 17th century and we still go crazy over his favorite furnishings, brutal selfishness, love of war and passion for personal glory.

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Here an oink, there an oink

They are making a huge comeback this year: male chauvinists of the first order as chandeliers. Combining modern elements with old-fashioned attitudes, they stand the test of time and will not become discolored, pitted or rusty. You can find exactly the look, style and quality you want. Hang them from the ceiling and enjoy the unique atmosphere created by their dim lighting. Should you, however, find them too harsh and want to prevent your (especially female) guests from using the f-word or showing the middle finger, you could conceal unpleasant truths by calling them male chauvinistic piglets.

E-i-e-i-o

Old-style nationalists are also at your disposal as towering candelabras with cascading candle cups. We believe that gushing antagonism toward thy colored, crippled, fundie faggot neighbor, durable if properly polished, will appear elegant next to the soft glow of your blind patriotism. In addition, if you introduce black walls or prints, you will reach the point of no return in your movement away from generic and boring home décor and moderate criticism toward an authoritarian centralized property and a full-time fanatical Bonapartist of impeccable taste. Although so much black might seem somewhat intimidating, rest assured you can never go wrong with it, as well as the feeling of national superiority. One of the most common misconceptions about using dark colors indoors is they make your house appear smaller, primarily in the eyes of nosy and envious neighbors. That’s why our prestigious designers are here to make it great again, and you proud for residing in a gold tower with your name on it. They propose pairing the black background of your living room, trade wars, recklessness, populism and reluctance to negotiate with brightly-colored furniture pieces as the contrast that will make your coffee table, charisma, TV stand, anti-elitist rhetoric, fireplace, anti-abortion policy, sofas, protectionism, Chinese vases, peace plan, gun cabinets, carpets and conservatism pop, highlighting the majestic grandeur of the space.

Everywhere a chick-chick

The sexist master bedroom is another must-have this season. Are you looking for a hand-crafted brass and iron bed, sized to fit the spirit of the times? Do you need a bed whose lustrous curves complement those of the modern day woman? You’ll find it here: a practically indestructible bed for you and your beautiful piece of ass that can survive ages of use (and abuse). We recommend glamorous satin sheets, pillowcases and bed canopies for a truly authentic sexist look.

Oddly enough, despite its appealing aesthetic and popularity, satin has been accused of chilling misogyny and neglected for years. The alpha male can breathe a sigh of relief again because the world reminded women how it loves to see them and how they love to be seen: ladies in the living room and whores in the bedroom. This proves that, fortunately, some things never go out of style, like shiny satin, skinny jeans, yachts, offshore accounts, bondage, flirting with a TV reporter during a diplomatic phone call, and praising the physique of a First Lady, other than your own. Moreover, locker room banter will have no influence whatsoever on your ability to run for office because, let’s face it, women throw themselves at men, flipping their tops and their panties, they love being called a dog, slob, bimbo, gold digger and disgusting animal by Mad Men, and dropping to their knee outside their bedrooms.

Opt for sexism, available now in a wide spectrum of patterns and colors, from benevolent pink to blatant red, to jazz things up. Combine your luxury satin bed linen with candle lighting for a helplessly romantic effect. For a cooler masculine impact, simply toss minimalist mansplaining rugs on the hardwood floor. If you feel pigeonholed by the square footage of your master bedroom, our creative team proposes hanging a distorted perception mirror on a wall, thus making control easier while creating the illusion of space. Make sure to choose a patronizing frame, ranging from too-upset-to-be-taken-seriously-blue to don’t-worry-honey-beige for a touch of gracefulness.

Satin is also perfect for rooms where you are expected to be seen rather than heard. Whether hosting a casual or formal dinner party, a sexist satin tablecloth will be the focal point of the dining room, pleasantly contrasting with traditional tableware and male dominance served. What’s more, you will kill two birds with one stone if you hang satin drapes, taking your rooms and life from dull to utterly depressing and suicidal. We would avoid satin in the kitchen though since holding the kitchen accountable for promoting gender inequality has been an absolute no-no lately. Take our word for it, the outside world does not want to think you too may have fallen victim to stylistic crime.

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Photography: Seph Lawless

If you are not familiar with Bojana Stojcic’s work, it’s never too late. Visit her blog Bojana’s Coffee & Confessions to Go and see what you’ve been missing.

© Basilike Pappa & Bojana Stojcic, 2018

Lines in the Sand (part 3): Jimmi Campkin & Basilike Pappa

Saltburn VI

 

You are my glorious disease and I have been fighting the cure ever since. I long for emptiness these days. No more cigarettes, no more drink, no more love. Just morose boredom and a meaningless fuck in dust. But still I think about wide hips and burgundy lips, thigh high stockings and your foot gently pressing on my groin like the gas pedal in a car. I remember your breath before you came in for the kill, and I remember the light dancing off the contours of your arched back. I remember wet, horrible sin.

I’ve tried to find alternatives but I only end up staring at the backwards writing on the base of the bottle. I go to a different store every day so the vendors don’t pity me. You drift into my mind like smoke under a door, and I never know whether to open it and try to escape or to stay and hope I pass out before I burn.

I walk into the bathroom and wash my face in the filthy sink, trying not to look at my own reflection and the betrayal of my dilated pupils. I tell myself I am done, that we are two cogs turning the opposite way, destroying each other.

But then I think,

one more time…

One more taste of red salt…

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The poets of sweetness that made us cringe tell of a place where lovers live ever after in castles made of perfumed mists, saying to each other things like ‘forever’, ‘I swear’ and ‘always more’. We are too smart to swallow this, and yet here we are, all stars, fires and poetic license.

I claim to wish for your silence but, when I see you aren’t done, my heart races over the seas. You pull me back, tear me apart between lust and fear, doubt and trust, fire and ash. Controlling my sequences of movement, ordering contraction and release with the tapping of your fingertips, you make me lie in bed aching, holding on to the memory of you pinning me down with your body, with your brutal mouth, sinking so deeply inside me not even smoke can drift between us. It’s still you who drives me into the dance; memory becomes flesh as I squeeze my thighs together and think of flowing into you in gasping motions – wet, exalted.

The kill is on both of us. Pierced by the same blade we fall.

Here’s the truth: I can’t go on. I’ll bring you my tongue on a platter, my song out of tune, my sanity, my senses, all my silver jewels. I’ll even do the stupid stuff, like say ‘forever’, ‘I swear’ and ‘always more’. I’ll pass you the salt. And if we become material for the poets of shit, we’ll blame it on the weather or a collapsing bridge.

The words you wanted to hear were always there when I said bite / fuck / hard / eat / suck me, kávla – at the last one you’d say ‘what?’ and I’d say ‘guess.’ Always there when I was carnal.

Let’s take it from the start.

Say again: ‘Tell me something you’ve told no one else.’

This time I’ll say yes.

***

© Basilike Pappa & Jimmi Campkin, 2018

Photography by Jimmi Campkin

Jimmi Campkin is a “Writer, photographer, creator of SANCTUARY. 16bit child, INFP with clinical nostalgia and red wine for blood.” You can enjoy more of his work at jimmi campkin.com.

You can read Part 1 here and Part 2 here