I have not read Grady Hendrix's Horrorstör - yet. But I know someone who has, and as it was explained to me, it seems pretty damned right-the-fuck-on. We went to IKEA like 2 weeks ago, and I still feel vaguely panicky. Why must it be a giant hedge maze? Why do they pipe in those fuccccccckkkked up smells? (I am not 100% sure this is true - it might just be the legion foul smells of my fellow meat-sacks)
I think this quote from the book nicely sums up my experience:
“There’s nothing waiting inside but retail slavery, endless exploitation, and personal subjugation to the whims of our corporate overlords.”
But, all is well that ends in me not falling to the floor in a mewling, twitching pile. We bought some very adult furniture.
Like this, but not. Google "adult furniture if you're in the mood to be equal parts bored and...whatever the combination of titilated and confused is - titfused?
We got the Vallentuna sofa (which I can't stop calling Valiant Tuna - so now we have a courageous fish couch), and a headboard/bedframe whose name escapes me because it was way less amusing. But they are both pretty cool because they have lots of storage (like, the couch is MADE OF STORAGE - ALL THE SEATS HAVE STORAGE UNDER THE CUSHIONS - WHY AM I YELLING?!!!)
I don't know why I'm blogging about this except that we have been in the PNW for over a year, and I still don't have any local friends to talk to. Also, between work and school, I don't really talk to anyone anyway.