Truck Furniture makes catalogs that I want to live in. It’d be me, my dog and my highly decorated anthropologist wife. No kids just yet because we’re "focusing on us right now." We’d eat things like homemade pastas and drizzle expensive olive oil when we felt like being "bad." We'd drink the kind of juices that are hard to pronounce (all jokes aside, does anyone on this infernal machine know how to pronounce "açaí" properly?) and listen to The xx together because our niece told us they were the coolest.

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