A trip to IKEA, for most men, is a brutal experience. It’s also somehow made even worse if you go there with your wife or girlfriend.
If you haven’t had the “pleasure” of making such a trip there, allow this gentleman to explain it perfectly with his running photo diary of a recent visit to the Scandinavian torture palace.
He titles it, “My wife and I visit IKEA again and I try to figure out why.”
“We are here. Our apartment is furnished. I am not sure why we are returning.”
“We appear to be here, in part, for lunch.”
“I have dropped fruity purple sauce on my pants. As is tradition. It will likely stain. On Facebook, my aunt advises pouring boiling water over the spot. She further advises removing the pants before doing so.”
“Receiving no instruction on where to place my food mobility unit, I have left it here. I hope it will not cause inconvenience.”
