|03:53 pm - 'And the curse of Hell upon the false upstart'|
...who, some forty years ago, manufactured an inert slab of cotton rag and called it a 'futon', so that thereafter in the west a futon is a dead weight of 80 lbs+, preferably without handles or anything to manoeuvre it with.
Which is to say, I succeeded in flipping the futon all by myself, for certain values of 'succeeded.' There's still a gap at the head because I can't manage to push it up against the wall. Books will doubtless slip down there because books do. Grahhh.