Ikeaaaaaaaaaaaaa

So this week the first Ikea in the state opens its doors so that we can all celebrate Scandinavian frugality. I am excited, but also a little worried due to the fact that I am an obsessive hoarder. I tend to tell anything that is cheap and old or cheap, new and retro looking “come live with me, I don’t need any space to move around.” Last week I happened upon a surplus sale where I purchased a telephone booth – yes, an actual fit a person inside phone booth. Upon showing it to people the first question they inevitably ask is “what are you going to do with it?” I don’t have the courage to tell them that I will probably spend most nights, dressed as Doctor Who (Tom Baker version), pretending it is my TARDIS. They don’t need to know my special secret; it is between me and the Daleks that live in my head (they tell me to do stuff like eat excessive amounts of pudding). I know that if I go to Ikea I will want to invite almost every item in the store to come live with me so I am practicing some restraint and staying away – for now. I have almost convinced myself that being able to see one’s floor is highly over-rated.

Vay-Cay

So I haven't posted in a while, partly because final papers were sucking up what little brain power I possess and partly because, to recoup said brain power, I went on vacation.

I went to visit my sister and cute little Squidgy. It was fun, but instead of being able to recharge, I spent the week having to wake up at the crack of dawn by having the world's youngest Sarah Jessica Parker fan (more on that later) jump directly on my bladder. From that moment on I would spend my vacation -

1. being screamed at because I was eating something exactly the same as Squidgy, but because it was on my plate, it was like manna from heaven. Manna that was being denied "she who jumps on bladders."

2. watching Squidgy dance during her 5000th viewing of Girls Just Want to Have Fun. That was actually quite funny. I call her dance the "the sumo head-butt." She crouches, with her legs wide apart and moves from one leg to the next while simultaneously trying to head-butt her imaginary dance partner.
3. dodging the world's most psychotic squirrel. I swear it gave me the evil eye!

I also found time to visit the beach where Squidgy proved that while it is okay to embrace perfect strangers in the airport, it is not okay to have salt water anywhere on your person.














And I found out what happened to Don Johnson's long lost Miami Vice stunt mannequin - he has a gig at the Swap Shop, warming Porsche seats.

Unshun

Miller established contact and I hereby retract my previous post in which I called him and turd and denied him the dairy goodness of cheese. There is cheese in my office as we speak and you are welcome to it Miller.