There is NOTHING more glamorous than a £1.75 Ikea breakfast to make your Sunday morning fully operational.
And all for the love of the purchase of blinds that don't smell of the fug of the dubious and somewhat hairy Bulgarian PHD student who has fucked up your London apartment for the last 18 months. Simmy, I love you for having been there. Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, a more delectable man you will never meet.
How could we not fall in friend-love all over again over this:
Who said they did it better in America?