Things that design sites have called bookshelves (which are not, in fact, functioning as bookshelves)

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leather shelf

This is not a bookshelf. This is a graphic design student’s attempt to hide the fact that he doesn’t own many books, and he never, ever feels the need to pick one up and actually read it.

modular

This is not a bookshelf. It is a whimsical pottery display with a hint of unintentional swastika.

whatThis is a shelf which happens to have a few books on it, but it is not a bookshelf. It appears to be primarily a repository for terrariums, mismatched cream pitchers, and vintage typewriters. Why do you need to store all of these items here, on this perfectly functional piece of furniture that could double as a bookshelf? Why do you own a bowl filled with pinecones? I have a lot of questions about you.

abomination

Go sit in a corner and think about what you’ve done.

wizard

This is not a bookshelf, but it is awesome. This is your shelf of glass orbs, stick effigies, tiny heads, vases of mysterious ungents, dead insects, and non-Euclidean bone candles. You know what? I like your style, mysterious swamp witch. It’s effortlessly modern, but it evokes otherworldly horrors and the terror of the dead gods.

Roy Moore knows the secret of bisexuals

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bisexual

Alabama Chief Justice Roy Moore is concerned that two bisexuals who get married would create a family of four. And he’s absolutely right.

As Roy Moore knows, all bisexuals are actually composed of two very short people pretending to be one normal-sized adult human. That is why bisexuals always wear figure-concealing trench coats. When someone is referred to as bi-curious, that means that they’re curious about what is under a bisexual person’s coat.

You may hear bisexual activists talking about bisexual invisibility. They are referring to the person who forms the “legs” of the bisexual, who must go through life concealed by the ever-present coat, always supporting the weight of the visible portion of the bisexual.

It can be difficult to come out as bisexual. Some bisexuals prefer to drop the fact that they are actually two tiny people casually into conversation; others choose to reveal this only to close friends. A bisexual who has not come out is referred to as “in the closet,” because they have to spend a lot of time choosing clothing that will conceal the fact that they are actually two people.

If a bisexual marries another bisexual, then obviously there would be four people in that marriage: the two bisexuals, the chiropractor who adjusts the backs of the invisible bisexuals, and the ever-present concern of Roy Moore.

Welcome to my humble home

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tiny house

Welcome to my 200 square foot free-standing house. I made it out of part of a reclaimed shipping container. I live here with my husband, two kids, three dogs, and a parrot. I know it’s a tight squeeze, but we don’t mind! We’re all right with the small space! We love being around each other! All the time! So!! Much!!!

Welcome to my 100 square foot micro-loft. It’s not much space, but to me it’s worth it to live in the heart of the city. This is where everything is happening! I can go out to all kinds of trendy fusion restaurants–that is, I have to go out, my kitchen is 1 burner and a glorified toaster oven. Still, it’s totally affordable at $2500 a month, plus utilities.

Welcome to my 84 square foot house on wheels. I built it out of wood salvaged from the tables of an eco-friendly cafe, which were in turn salvaged from old boats. I know it’s little, but to me, it feels roomy. Probably because I built it on a 4,000 square foot lot and I eschew human companionship. Don’t ever call my home a trailer.

Welcome to my 30 cubic foot enviro-tube. I had myself hermetically sealed into this tube and blasted into space. Since I don’t live on planet Earth anymore, my carbon footprint is basically negative, I think. I survive on grey water and hydroponic tomatoes (no GMO, only organic will do!). I know it’s a little far from the local co-op, but there’s nothing better than zero-G for stepping up your yoga game!

Welcome to my 10 square foot miniature micro-farm. Would you like a home-grown strawberry? We’ll have to share it, of course, I only have room for one berry.

Welcome to my 1 square foot cryo-tube. I and thousands of my brethren lie stacked in the darkness, half-alive and half-mad. Our ship was cast into the void from a dying world generations ago, so that we might trade uncertain hope for certain destruction. Is there still a planet called Earth, or is it now a blasted ruin, inhabited by no life and known by no name? Is there a world out there for us, lush and green, or only an endless half-conscious drift through the void?

Welcome to my 0 square foot existence. I have transcended this mortal body, and now I exist solely as a being of pure cosmic energy, untethered by your mundane understanding of space and time. My apartment consists of [millions of images pass through your brain, too fast for mortal meat to comprehend] The walk score is 3,000%.