Jag älskar Ikea.



Oh Ikea, how I love thee. I love your crazy maze of stuff, made from designers I can't pronounce. I love your casino like quality of inconsistent lighting and zero clocks. I love how you stick the kids in a little glass room filled with balls, so people eating lunch can point and laugh, and then continue shopping free from dirty hands and screaming brats.

Ikea is just further proof that Sweden rocks. (As if Freddie wasn't enough proof.)

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