2004-11-24 - 12:56 p.m.

It�s hard to put into words the sense of spiritual desolation my very first visit to Eye-Kee-Yah instilled in me.

Bruce has already borne the brunt of my ranting, so I�ll just limit myself to saying that they are despicable mind-controlling, tat-mongering, penny-pinching whore furniture Scando-nazis whose enterprise heralds the end of civilisation so much I�m surprised it hasn�t got its own book at the end of the New Testament (The book of Haarlundvig, or whatever a bookcase is called in that wretched hellhole of dead-eyed despair):

�And I stood upon the sand of the sea, and saw a beast rise up out of the sea, having seven heads and ten horns, and really out of the way superstores, and upon his horns ten crowns, and upon his heads some kind of blue and yellow trim and the promise of saving money.

And he causeth all, both small and great, rich and poor, free and bond, to receive bad quality flat packed goods in their right hand. And that no man might buy or sell, save he that had six hours to walk around a showroom, or injure themselves in the understaffed warehouse.�

Nice hotdogs, mind.