Ikea: Where the world goes for cheap crap.

Why does everything "Swedish" have to be so damn good??? Seriously; Volvos, Meatballs, Supermodels, Fish (the red ones are the best), tempurpedic sleep systems... And now I have to begrudgingly admit; Ikea. I had heard many things about Ikea, but I had never been to this monstrosity of a store before. So, from my pre-conceived notions I knew that Ikea had cornered the market on cheap, poor quality furniture for college students and poor young professionals. And after my first visit, I don't think I was off by much. There is no other way to describe Ikea's products as inexpensive, flimsy, not assembled, breakable, not all together unattractive, not real wood, yet useful and a good substitute until you can afford real furnishing or buy a house. I feel as though Ikea is the "My First Sony" of home decor. Just as those red electronic consumer products provided children a conduit to real/adult walkmans, tape recorders and portable singing machines, Ikea is the diaper training to furniture shopping (only without the urination). Speaking of, my trip to Ikea started with a mad sprint to the bathroom to take a piss. Upon saddling up to the Urinal, unzipping, dislodging and starting the flow, I was immediately startled (and dismayed) by the fact that the urinal surface was angled so that my pee splattered directly off the porcelain and back onto my pants. Guys- you know what I'm talking about. Girls- imagine you're 12 inches away from a brick wall and you pull the trigger of a super-soaker 3000x.. You're gonna get wet. Here is a timeline of my trip to Ikea that I only wanted to take 15 minutes: 7:04PM- Enter. 7:05PM- Inadvertently pee on self. 7:07PM- Get lost. 7:10PM- Realize they have a path with signs directing you around the show room. I follow the yellow brick road. 7:12PM- Check out rugs. Unbuyable. 7:20PM- Pick out Curtain Rods. (Have I mentioned how extreme of a life I lead?) 7:30PM- Start looking at bureaus and bedside tables. (The edge is what I live on) 8:15PM- Still looking, I stumble across a food court in the store. I order the swedish meatball dinner & Mac 'n Cheese. 8:45PM- Relish in the fact that I just ate 15 meatballs for $3. 8:50PM- Return to show room. Pick out the damn matching bureau and nightstand. 8:51PM- Realize I have to go to the warehouse on the other side of the world to pick up my items. I do this. 9:15PM- Check out. load it into my car and drive home. 9:45PM- Assembly is quickly halted since I only picked up 2 of the 3 boxes I was supposed to pick up. The next few weeks consist of: me losing the receipt in a move, them telling me I can't get the other box without the receipt, me asking them what do they expect me to do with half of an inexpensive, flimsy, not assembled, breakable, not all together unattractive, not real wood, yet useful bureau, them telling me I'm an idiot, me telling them to fuck off, them going back and recreating my receipt, me going to customer service, dealing with some choice invalids at returns, and after 1.5 hours of waiting get my piece of shit bureau. Again, I love swedish meatballs.

Premature Balding

I work in an office. I have to wear dress socks. They are really tight. They are starting to cause my leg hair underneath my socks to thin. Eventually, I assume, that if I stay on this course, I will be bald from my shin down.

Yet another reason to travel and wear flip-flops.

ps. I take solace in the fact that I have a full head of hair and don't have to wear a swimcap everyday.

Words to live by..

A few days ago I heard this on the radio for the first time in about 7 years. I am sure you've read or heard these lyrics before, but if you haven't, I recommend giving the link below a spin. I love these words of wisdom.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bwVVpwBKUp0&mode=related&search=

King Arthur's a pansy compared to these folks

I got off the BART (San Francisco's subway) the other night and I was walking to my car to drive home-

Before the parking lot came into view, I heard several violently sharp noises, as if someone was hitting a hard object with a 2X4..

And sure enough, when I rounded the corner, the parking lot was full of people dressed up as medieval knights having sword fights with wooden swords, which I can only presume were originally 2X4's.

I had to chuckled to myself. Here I was, tired, and somewhat beat down from a long day at work, and then I wander upon 40 adults dressed up to the nines (medievally, of course) re-enacting a knights tale underneath the freeway in Oakland. And no camera's were rolling. Apparently, this is a weekly event on Thursday nights after 8pm.

Needless to say, this put a smile on my face. Double needless to say, I went directly to my local blacksmith (Todd), and asked him to whip me up some good 14th century armory with snazzy buckles.

There's nothing like getting medieval on someone.

Non-stop service from Hartford, CT to Amsterdam.. WTF!

travel deals on: http://matadortravel.com/fresh

First of all, this is utterly ridiculous. And awesome at the same time. This is of discernible interest to me because I went to college in Hartford, CT and when I was living there, the Hartford Airport offered service to approximately 2.5 airports: Baltimore, Cincinnati and sometimes Newark. Talk about a vacation to die for. (eg: an above average likelihood of being shot).

Lets be serious for a second- Do you remember your college schedule? I do. The last three years of college I only took classes Tuesday thru Thursday with exquisitely drunk 4-day weekends in between. If this deal was around back in my heyday, I would have gone to Amsterdam on a tri-weekly basis*.

*This is entirely untrue, seeing as though I was a broke mo' fo' in college like most other students. BUT, lets suspend our disbelief for arguments sake, and imagine there are rich kids who attend small private liberal arts schools in New England and could afford such extravagance.. (A crazy thought, I know.)

That would have been such a cool-ass weekend trip to take during college. And I don't even like smoking pot, windmills or hookers. Just to take a long weekend to Holland from some derelict American city with no redeemable qualities like Hartford, CT is reason enough to hop on a 6 hour flight for me! That, and being locked in a room with unlimited beer at the Heineken Brewery for 1 hour after the brewery tour. Pure wonderment.