For those of you who didn't know I am, and my father as well, named after a desk from IKEA.
Turns out there's a rhyme to their reason.
I'm not sure why, but I'm comforted by the fact that some day I may seat myself on a Knut and place my pen and paper on a Sven and start writing. And that I don't need to enslave a horde of friendly blonde folks to do it.
That Knut/Sven scenario also sorta sounds like it might come out of a S&M porn flick.
Oh, and I guess I'm back from Europe safe and sound but sans luggage. More updates later.
EDIT: Apparently, IKEA is discontinuing me or something. I'm a little pissed. BUT there's hope. I found another link to look at me (and dad) here. Enjoy.
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