You’re just a fantastic maze of shit. (Red Hook)
Ikea, why do you do this to me? Why do you beckon me to come and waste three hours of my life inside of you, only to spend the last two just trying to get out. I have a theory that your staff is also just a bunch of extremely lost former customers. Also, stop trying to sell me cheap things with human names. I don’t need to come home only to have to comfort Billy the fucking bookshelf because it’s depressed about its generic exterior and lack of girlfriend. I am not a fucking furniture therapist.
That said I still feel attracted to your meatballs. Maybe we can work something out?