Fucking papasan

Tonight I went over to a friend's house to watch the MTV Video Music Awards. Since they've just moved in they are missing a few crucial items yet - a couch, for instance. Being the guest, I was allowed the honor of the only cushy seat in the house: the papasan.

If you are unfamiliar with a papasan, I will describe it for you.

It is comprised of two pieces:

• A circular wooden base
• A large wooden half-sphere seat
  

Now the half-sphere seat sits loosely on the base and for the most part moves freely, as there is no default position for it to rest. Comfortable yes, but a hazard? You be the judge.

During a commercial break, I got up to grab my sweatshirt. As I was putting it on, I plopped down (rather forcefully, in hindsight) into the papasan. And as it began to tip over, I made a horrified, prolonged glance at my friend as she watched me fall over in slow motion. I tried to stop myself from falling but my arms were restricted by my half-on sweatshirt, t-rex style.

When the seat finally came completely off the base and landed on the ground, it of course rolled back and forth several times, much to the chagrin of my other friend, who I had landed on top of. Unable to pull myself up from a combination of sweatshirt entanglement and gut-renching laughter, I rolled helplessly back and forth for a minute or two until I regained composure and had my wits about me enough to pull my sweatshirt all the way on.

And that's why I now officially distrust papasans. First they lure you into a false sense of security with their extreme comfort and large size. Next thing you know, you're falling all over yourself in slow motion with no way to stop yourself. Fucking papasan.