the BRUTAL, UGLY truth of my FABULOUS, BEAUTIFUL life.
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9:18 a.m. + 2004-06-02 = like i have time for this.
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have decided in frantick-manner to just buy new computer desk. a target run might be in order. IKEA does not open for another month and half. [followed by the 2 week waiting-period in which the massive crowds die down.]
i imagine that there will be a lot of eyerolling on my part once i do step foot in Minneapolis' IKEA. i imagine that i will feel like most of the customers are not privileged enough to be there.
you with the flannel shirt and john deere hat. no, not you... the other you... the you with the mullet... oh. i'm sorry, ma'am... i meant to say f'ullet. but yeah... YOU. YOU do not belong here. put down that p�slakan. leave the sk�petssektion. leave this aff�ren. get in your bil. put your nycklar in the ignition. start your bil. and k�r. k�r far, far away. tillbaka whence you came. and never come tillbaka to this place. my place. you see, i was born IKEA. it is mitt blod. mitt hj�rta. NEJ nej nej nej NEJ! ej mattor heller. put that svenska rug DOWN. och G�.
i'm such a snob.
a snob that must go to target to buy computer desk.
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comments?? --->[thisaway]--->[[looks to me as though there are...]]---> 0 repercussions thus far
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[prologue] *** [epilogue] ***[plottwist!]
[[erstwhile]] ***** [[forthwith]]
