As a philanthropist, I would like to offer an astute piece of advice derived from a difficult lesson learned.
When suffering from the full scope of hangover symptoms, one should not go to Ikea.
I am certain that you now deduce that I, in fact, DID brave Ikea...alone..with the gurgly poos. Ikea, by nature, has an absolutely genius set up. Hoards of consumers forced in droves with little white arrows to stare at every incredibly priced item that Ikea offers. Usually, I enjoy the rush of saving a ridiculous amount of money on a thousand tealights or finding great deals on stylish spatulas. Yes, Ikea is the land of all that is beautiful and thus today, when I arrived at Ikea on a mission to organize myself I was blindsided by the perfect storm. Armed with the after effects of an evening filled with Jager, beers, cherry bombs and bad karaoke (in that order) followed by an afternoon attempt to settle my stomach at Red Robin (fuckin thanks Vern), I entered Ikea with the confidence of a woman with incredible fiscal restraint. As I joined the ranks of all of the other arrow following douche-bags lacking spacial awareness, mowing each other down with their enormous Ikea bags, I found that the gurgling in my stomach became increasingly more severe as time was passing. I began standing in front of displays of hangers and laptop desks, mouth breathing like a 900 lb man, attempting to compose myself by squeezing my buttcheeks tightly together. I began to panic when I finally reached the bedroom displays and felt the certain doom that a coughing attack rendered on my squeezing buttcheeks, forcing me to pretend to take one of the mattress for a test drive. After all, everyone knows that your buttcheeks are far stronger when you lie down. I stared at the ceiling, performing Lamaze and devising a plan. Should I have lost the battle of the buttcheeks in the middle of Ikea, alone, I would simply yell loudly, "What the fuck!? Someone shit this bed and I laid in it!! Who shit this bed? My God, they must have been around my height because my ass landed right in the shit! I am apalled!"" I am sure you will be pleased to know that even after an unwelcomed trip down the stairs, I emerged victorious. I would like to offer a special shout out to my friend Vern for picking me up in the parking lot with God-speed. You are an incredible friend. Sorry I shit you van........
