No-one hasn't gone through the entire Ikea catalogue, searching for even the vaguest rudeness. It takes a little dedication, but then, you find gold;

So you throw back your head and laugh - those Swedish! But that's not enough - you're on a roll, now you've had the Fartyg. So you spent two more determined hours, and eventually... you find something! And it's good! God, it's good!

Ha ha! A bummer rang for you. Yes. He was Swedish! Crazy Swedish bummers have been ringing you all day!
But then comes a long, dry patch, during which you doctor the VIPS pastry brush to look like NIPS. By now, your head is utterly full of these meaningless Swedishnesses. You're desperate for an excuse to see something, anything recognisable...

Ha ha! Stupid Swedish cow, with you smelly Udder BO. Rinse your udders, you filthy smelly cow! You laugh to yourself, but you know you're scraping the bottom of the barrel. Appalled at yourself, that you've spent the best part of a day idly leafing through an Ikea catalogue with no intention of even buying anything, you throw the book away.
That night, you dream in Swedish. And you dream of a range of glassware.

When you wake up, you won't know whether it was a dream or not. You'll go to that discarded catalogue, you will wipe the old food from the cover, and you'll spend the rest of the day trying to make Vika Manne sound rude in your head.