Just got it this weekend, for free and I didn’t have to pick it up. Only problem is that it is a big purple/blue puffy curvey ass ugly couch. I have never had a piece of furniture so god damm ugly, but after a day or 2 it has started to grow on me. Kinda like nice ugly people, can’t stand to look at em’ but they have their uses.
You should put it on your front porch and sit out there on it, waving an American flag and drinking booze. I bet it would be an instant party hit. Pictures?
You think your couch is ugly…in our spare bedroom we have a sofabed, that somebody in my family once paid good money for, that’s officially known as The Ugly Couch. It’s this velveteen thing in browns, from the 70’s. It has this atrocious tan diamond/stripe thing goin on. It’s so ugly it’s oogly.
Are you a long-lost relative? Because I tell ya, my dad is the Patriarch of the Ugly Couch Clan. For years, he had a brown velvet-esque couch with a big orange and blue floral pattern. The fake velvet effect was so nasty that it would work like velco; if you were sitting on the couch wearing sweatpants, you would get stuck to the couch.
After this couch was destroyed by a hurricane (clearly evidence of Ugly as Sin Couches In The Hands of An Angry God), he bought another ugly couch. This one is a peach-on-pink bamboo pattern, and it’s the kind of couch that curves around. I myself am now the proud owner of this couch (I have to say it’s darn comfortable) although I keep it hidden under a very tasteful slipcover.
Congratulations on becoming a member of the Elite Ugly Couch Club!
I was given a lovely sectional sofa last year but when I moved to this tiny apartment I was tight on space. So now I only have a section of a sectional. It’s not so bad though. I have it covered with a quilt, one side stuffed with pillows, making a mock-arm. The quilt hides the Luckydogtypaws stains quite nicely too!
For 20 years, I was the caretaker of an Ugly Couch. It was a nice enough standard camelback style, but it was upholstered with a really scratchy tapestry fabric in an orange and green diamond pattern. Every time I suggested we could do without that horrendous piece of furniture, I was treated to the story of how my father-in-law bought it for my mother-in-law when they first moved into the house and how she lovingly reupholstered it herself (in THAT fabric - why?) when it got ratty the first time. I believe the implication was that I should do the same. As if.
I finally (finally!) got rid of the couch when we moved, but when I was looking through a thrift store the other day, I saw another couch in the same fabric. I wouldn’t have believed that two people could choose that pattern.
Slipcovers are our friends.
Well, I think I can join in the Ugly Couch Club Of the SDMB. We had a blue, green, purple and pink “thing”. We called it a '67 love seat, but my parents bought it brand new when they got married in 1984.
Besides the eysore of a color scheme, it lookes like two chaise lounge chairl sitting next to each other. Toward the knees, it curves up and then down like a camel’s hump.
We got rid of it after my mother “accidentally” spilled bleach on it.
I love my couch, to save space in my room I sleep on it, sadly I didn’t realize it folded out into a bed for several months, but i got so used to sleeping on it in the couch form i don’t bother folding it out. I love that thing.
When I was little, my parents bought a pair of sofas. The fabric was a dark red floral brocade on really dark green background. The color combination was oddly electric. I inherited this when I moved into my first apartment, complete with the effects of loving attention by at least cat. When I moved out of that apartment, I decided I would rather not have a couch at all, than to have those two.
And not quite so bad, but my ex had a sectional couch upholstered in beige fake fur :rolleyes:. It probably didn’t look too bad originally, but by the time I met him it was so ratty it looked like it was upholstered in Ol Yeller.
When I was 18 one of my girlfriends and I decided to move in toghether.
The ONLY logistical plan we made was that we EACH had to have our own ugly couch, so that we wouldn’t have to share.
I remember the first time I went to Mr. Wicked’s house and saw his couch.
I was appalled.
The rest of the house seemed normal…there was a nice, normal dining room table, a harmless television stand. But that…that…thing, I can’t even bear to call it a couch…that thing was just hideous. If the Devil had a couch, that would be it. Actually…if the Devil had a couch and threw it out because he shit on it and put it out on the curb for Large Pickup Day, and some insane maniac picked it out of the garbage and gave it away, that would be it.
I can’t even describe its ugliness because it hurt my retinas to look at it. There were flowers and threadbare velvet, there was a wooden trim involved somehow, it was just horrendous. You know, I think it hurt more than my retinas, I think it hurt my very soul.
Anyway, I was in a slight panic, because I really didn’t want to sit on that couch, but how could I say that and not look like a bitch? It was my first time going there, it was a new relationship, I didn’t know what to do. Do I sit on that couch? Do I stand? What kind of guy keeps a couch like that? There are no other chairs! Should I drag a kitchen chair into the living room? Thinking quick, I told him I didn’t want to sit on the couch because of all the dog hair, and he offered to cover it with a sheet.
When I sat on the sheet, I could almost feel the evilness reaching up, trying to get me through the thin cotton. I sat very, very still.
After a few months of me sitting on a sheet, I finally said something. I told him that the couch Had To Go. He was less than thrilled, because, according to him, it was a perfectly good couch. Now, let me just say that there was nothing ‘perfectly good’ about that couch. It smelled, it was ugly, there were holes in it, and it was almost like sitting on the floor because it was so smashed flat. Nothing good. Nothing good at all.
So, time passes, and the couch silently mocks me every time I go over there. Like those creepy paintings where the eyes follow you around the room, that couch was always in my line of sight. Sometimes it glared at me right to my face, grinning in a way…grinning with green, rotten teeth and putrid black gums. Laughing, and saying “Ha ha, I’m still here, bitch. Have a seat.” Other times, it would sneer at me from the doorway when I was in the next room.
A few months later, despite the couch, we decided that getting married was a good idea. I knew I would win the Couch Fight then, we’d get new furniture! Ha ha! That’s what people do when they get married! I beat you, Evil Couch! I win!
A few months before the wedding, Mr. Wick says he has a surprise for me.
I go to his house, and he makes me close my eyes. I was thrilled, I love surprises! He led me into the living room and told me to open them.
Before me was a brand new couch. A brand new ugly couch. It was big and green. I was stunned. I couldn’t believe he bought a new couch as a surprise. I mean, it was nice of him to do it, he knew I hated the old one, but you just don’t buy furniture as a surprise. You just don’t!
We kept it, because I’m not that much of a bitch to demand he return it, but man, do I hate that couch. Evil Couch is laughing at me somewhere, I’m sure of it.
Rose
My roommates and I are the proud owners of an ugly couch.
We’re poor college students, so we went to thrift stores to find one. Our living room is already decked out in a pseudo-70’s theme because one roommate brought bright orange easy chairs from home. We purposely looked for an ugly 70s-esque couch. We found one–it has nice brown, cream, and orangish stripes. Before we bought it, we had to give it the Smell Test ™. It passed.
It is also very comfortable.