Here are some photographs I took of my friend's cute and kitsch weekend home in Union pier, Michigan. It's for sale, by the way. Not including antiques, of course (unless you're easily impressed by my persistent proclamations that they are worth the extra hundred grand I will insist he add on to the price).
Hallway mirror and chiffonier- worth almost as much as the clock that sits there and doesn't tell time.
I love this kitchen. I don't remember anything that ever happens there, but a case of wine in three days will do that to you. Do gays roofie straight girls?
Mark has a thing for Chinoiserie. I do too. I will not fault him for it. He discovered happy endings in Thailand and won't shut up about it, something about their love of tapioca. Not sure. I never really listen after the third glass of Malbec.
The dining room. A place to hang your coat, drop your stuff as you come in from the outside. Have we actually eaten at the table? Why bother actually sitting down when we never stop eating or drinking the entire time we're there? That isn't completely true. We do take breaks to make bitchy comments while watching cooking shows and Tosh.0. And flash pizza delivery guys. I'm famous in Union Pier, bitches. Jealous much?
Entryway and living room beyond. You have no idea how many times I have wanted to drop stuff on Mark when he comes home. He uses the rear entrance, sadly. Always trying to stay on top of things, so to speak.
Our room when we visit. It's like sleeping in a tree house. Mark made the quilted headboard himself. Mr. McSlore and I helped decorate it, but you need one of those fancy CSI blue lights to see the pretty designs. Sorry.
The house really is for sale. If you're interested in owning a beautiful house an hour and a half outside of Chicago in Harbor Country, email me. I'll give you all the details. I'm sure he'll throw the headboard in with the listed price, if you ask real nice.
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