Sunday, August 31, 2008

RE: iPod RiP

UPDATE: And now just as I published the latest post I got it functioning again.
The iPod was dead. Long live the iPod.

iPod RiP

My iPod decided to go really nuts one me during the race.
Kept prompting in my earphones that the race was over, although I - clearly - could assess it wasn’t.
Then after thirty minutes my brand new Nike+ just gave up one me. Quit. Ended. Finito. Lombardo.
And as I’ve tried to revitalize the little fucker via USB plug-in, it’s not responding.
Damn you technology, I damn you!

Office third…

…means someone else won.
Nick’s fucking insane 36'' is nothing to mull over, but finish after Rob*…
Big fuck. Huge disappointment. Suicide reflection.
Now I have to beat him at drunk-pool again, my only activity of triumph between us, thus far.

*I kept my plan/tactic/grand scheme during the whole race, kept everyone from the office behind me. But obviously never considered someone started ahead of me.

Noticed during the race:

Running + big race + jeans = wtf #3

So, did I do excessively good at the race, shatter my PB and taught tiny Chinese how to do 10k in style?


Friday, August 29, 2008

“10 people talk – about anything!”

Rob has the commendable ability to sound so excited that the world relies on his enthusiasm.
Which is great of course, I’m a big devotee of optimism, but sometimes I feel that he stretches it.
Like tonight he tries to persuade me to join him in this park and listen to ten Chinese guys (no particular reason - I just presume they’re all men), that all speak of a certain topic.
“But I really hope it’s not architecture, that gets sooo boring” he says and I kind of agree.

Keep a positive viewpoint

The more I think about this offensively early morning-race,
the more I can’t wait for my nap afterwards.


This is the latest happiest moment of my life.Please notice that they decided to add a variety of skin-color when the 30-year anniversary-story of Lego reached the mid-80s.
There still is hope in this world after all!

WTF #2

The Human Race starting time has been changed on Sunday. From 4:30pm to 7:30am. Transportation leaves from office at 6:15am.
I’d really like to repeat the time-thing again, but kindly ask you to read the first paragraph again.
Up at 5 A M-ish. Metabolism – fucked. Preparations and warming up before the race – cancelled. Participation level – doubtlessly down. Crazy, hysterical, positive, encouraging Chinese spectators cheering along the route – also presumably – excessively decreased.
Someone’s goal has swiftly changed to merely finish.
I can't wait to get up on Sunday.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

WTF #1

My number is 3. It’s just as simple as that and will never be altered.
Although I have favorite/lucky/preferred/ sub-numbers:
6, 9, 12, 15, 19, 21, 23, 25, 27, 30, 33, 36, 45, 54, 69.
And with 3 being my main priority, the lack of it in, say a big race, would be absolutely devastating.
This is my given tee for Human Race that also works as our running-tag (or whatever you call it) and we are requested to wear it.
I rest my case, your honor.

Golf clubs...

My brother has one main request when he arrives, which he frequently dials for latest updates.
"Fake, or at least darn cheap golf clubs – and where to get a hold of 'em."
But before I lavish through guidebooks and inquire any living person where to purchase fake-sticks in this crazy obsessed golf country*, I'm still in the never-ever-land asking myself,
why golf, Stavro?

*Heavy doze of irony.

“But what about the swoosh!”

Had an absurdly interesting meeting just now.
It took me a good few minutes before I realized two things; I’m the soul non-Chinese here and this entire meeting is in Chinese.
The thoughts was running through my mind, speak, no speak, enlighten them of this preserved information or just sit back and enjoy this conversation. After all it was the revised presentation from yesterday so this could be a splendid chance to catch some Chinese before I leave.
I abruptly decided to at least make them aware of this, and feel a slice of shame, so without notice I spoke, and liberally educated them of the lack of a 'swoosh' on one of the frames.
Fan kindly replied in English and the meeting cleanly carried on in Chinese.

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

People’s names

Never been my strong suit but something I really wish to improve.
Here, they’re pretty much called the same, there’s a lot of, Yin, Yu, Hei, Zhu, Hen, Wei, Ling, Lee, Wu and plenty of other sounding-similarities, like Yiin, Yinkeng, Yuan, Yuanyuan, Leal, Lo and so on.
So I guess that I now, after four months, ought to dare approach someone from a different floor with a distinct-name-call, other than the reliable,
“Hey, E”, or “Hello dude” and the always unfailing and incredibly happy, “HI!”.

At the office with a very dead beat Scott at 00.27

Scott yells across the empty office.
"Hey Weiling, have we affirmed this layout?!"
We both turn our heads, looking around, searching for someone, anyone, a recipient to his call, but finds no one.
So I turn to the empty chair on my right and scream.
"Hey Rob, I’m glad I just beat you in foosball."
Scott looks at me like I’m weird before he realizes my very funny joke.

Chit chat at Jamaica

Bought my usual Chai Latte and felt that life was pretty good. Paid the amount and watched him hesitate before putting the bills in the cash register.
Now before this, for anyone who reads this blog or knows me just a little, knows I have a…'problem' isn’t the right word, but maybe 'concern', exemplifies it best.
When it’s hot, or I’m warm – I sweat. A lot. Some people try to make me happy and say, “well-trained people usually do”, but knowing how I look in the mirror, I’d fool no sport coach.
So back to Jamaican Coffee where the cashier’s smiled ate me, waving my bills and said, “wet”.
This is my sneak-shot of the place but the flash went off when I took it, so I badly tried to recover with a request of him in the next one, “because I really LOVE this place so much”. He smiled even more and gracefully posed.
Please notice his thumb-appraisal of this situation.


Am going to this shoot and the day is not even three and everything’s mad.
Go now! Go soon! Twenty minutes! Go soon – no go now!
But I feel fine. I love madness. The trick to enjoy it is best handled with a smile and play along; do whatever they say and it'll be fine.
Everything’s gonna be alright.

Thumbs up!

Have a tendency of yelling out across the office and check everyone’s status.
Usually no one replies and I just sit there with my thumb in the air and a ridiculous smile.
This is also the home of my personal desk-fan. We love each other.

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Finally went to Kevin’s!

It’s a small Thai restaurant hidden behind everything on a narrow lane, and Scott and me had a late dinner there and it was so much better than I first feared.
I walk pass Kevin’s Thai almost everyday and silently in my mind I almost always consider going there someday.
Took whatever Cool Scott ordered and ended up getting pretty drunk, Aussies have a tendency of drinking a lot, and as the soul representative of an old Viking nation like Sweden, you have a lot to live up to.
We rolled home just before one and I gave him my smug-smile, knowing at least I wasn’t the one who had to get up at six for the shoot this morning.
I’m going there and a healthy hour of noonish.
Double moahahahah.

Tonight’s showdown

The mail-correspondence has been frequent about this weeks fight club.
From my point of view I considered it cancelled.
A lot of excuses and schedules that didn’t fit and bla bla bla. And I was quite content with this.
I still haven’t fully recovered yet.
And I’m still puzzled why I brought my shorts with me to work today, cause just now – it’s back on.


This is probably my least favorite feature of all the things you can do.
It never ever brings out something good and only contracts energy from people around you.
And since attitudes are contagious keeping a positive/optimistic spirit becomes even more important.
You have to do the same as being humble: if you don’t have it – fake it. Cause the energy you derive from someone by complaining is so annoyingly selfish that it should be illegitimated and people breaking it should be banned from their jobs until they come back and say something positive.
I try to live by this motto and this is why I find it so, so hard right now to say…anything, to the poor little new girl who ordered food for me two days in a row and failed miserably twice.
And this is not an extreme duty or a huge brick of responsibility I lay on her shoulders, it’s simply because the menu clearly states, “please speak Chinese”.
Yesterday it took two hours and several reminders, today it took two and a half hours before I, notably upset, walked pass the reception desk and bought my own food, of course without really complaining.
Either this is an act of very respectfulness or just plain old lame Swedish.
Exhibit A, your honor.
Replacement food, and as much as I enjoy raw fish on a roll
- it's not noodles with beef in soya sauce.

So that’s how you do it fast!

Been running for a few years now without doing any real progress I think. Kinda like Sméagol I guess (only she went backwards in her development).
I usually lace my boots and go for my run. Cover my distance. Do my time. And then I feel quite content with myself.
And then the big races come. And I’m not that super-fast as either my teammates think (hope) but most and foremost I want.
I’m a man of ambitions and this pisses me off quite a bit.
And now, as I’m browsing through the World Wide Web looking for something entirely different, cool online marketing – I stumble across this.
This is actually something I have been reflecting for some time, long or short stride - which will make me quicker.
The answer is as simple as obvious: run with shorter stride and higher cadence.
That should do it.
Now I’m just puzzled how I’m gonna match this with my stair-running. Convert this knowledge into bodily accomplishment. Trying to squeeze in interval running in the darn stair was hard enough, now this.

Guess there’s no double-step anymore, cause I reckon that counts as a long stride.
This is from last week's running shoot, and photographer Jason Gould crawling on the ground.

Monday, August 25, 2008

Being Patrick Ekwall:

Never been a – fan – of the gentleman.
And thought people are kind of…hard on him and love to make fun of him, I mean, he’s a farmer from Skåne who’s moved up to the “big city”, what can you expect?
But never in my life did I think that he actually lives his life the way it’s being heavily ironised, here, here, here and above all here.
It’s not just funny and absurd, it’s grotesque in the weirdest sense, Swedes, I know you don’t take my word for it, but please read for yourselves:
“Nu konferencier-jobb i Örebro o imorgon en klassiker; Da Silva ska gifta sig i svår piratjacka som Stefan Wåhlberg designat o sådana där vita Lars Wallin-boots o vid mitt bord visar det sig att jag sitter med följande trio: Snickaren, Mårten Andersson o Markoolio.
Det kan inte bara sluta hur som helst.
Det kommer att göra det.
Under onsdag natt-torsdag dag hann jag med; enklare sittning med Bombaren o en sann hjälte som Champa von der Burg, tågresa med kvittogenomgång, mejlsvarande, kemtvätten, Ekwall vs Lundh, intressant möte om nytt hett fotbollsprogram, uppbokning till Nyhetsmorgon, lite OS på TV, en av de sista måltiderna(suck!) vid baren på Konsumtionsföreningen...körde entrecote på bädd av färska grönsaker, Ramlösa...för att avsluta med att designa en T-shirt för lanseringen av Neil Strauss senaste raggningsverk med hjälp av sax, textiltusch, schabloner, lila sidenband, glittersprut o en frisör som heter Hanna.
Klar vid 02:00, man får mycket gjort när man har roligt.
Giftermål har aldrig riktigt varit min bag, men jag har inget emot själva bröllopet.
Vi var på ett rätt divigt place som heter Nääs Frabriker utanför Alingsås o Daniel o Helene blev båda da Silva under en utevigsel med sång av Carin o Papa JJ, inmarsch till "Gudfadern" o utmarch till "...han tog av sig sin kavaj, slängde av sig båda skorna..." o en ganska snygg kvinnlig präst som inte var så jävla religiös.
Jag har alltid gillat präster som inte är så förbannat religiösa, känns bara onödigt.
Alla var där...mina godaste vänner från Lets Danceriet: Victor o Snickaren (2/3 av Club Carin), Mårten, Tobbe W, Helena, Annika Sjöö, Jeanette, Erica...o det var galet.
Jag trodde jag hade koll på Borås, men vet fortfarande inte var det där plejset ligger som kör shotsrace i VIP-rum.
Jag hoppas på en inbjudan....jag menar VIP-rum, i Borås!
Lovar ta en taxi eller en promenad från Grand, om det inte är för långt

No night shoot stirs big hopes

Due to the loud orchestra in the sky, they went as a “small crew” to the shoot.
And left is a man with no plans but a huge wish
After a chat with Ukachi who couldn't stop talking about The Dark Knight, I really, really want to watch it now too.And though I took a vow only to watch it on the big screen, and perhaps because of the fact that it’s not shown in cinemas here, “only four foreign movies a year” or something like that - and their choice of superhero film was Hancock (!?), I’ve come to rethink the deal.
Maybe cab down to Hollywood DVD and try my luck.
Why So Serious?

Unintentional crew-cut

Accidentally almost shaved off all my hair yesterday.
Was sick and tired of the length and the never-going-anywhere hair due. Set the trimmer on its longest length (don’t wanna look bald) for on top and 3mm on the sides.
And thought I’d be safe.
Now I (reluctantly) look like a mean marine machine going to combat.
This is exactly how I looked when I shaved my hair and exactly how I look right now.

A quick follow up

From my previous post.

Getting up right on time

Was supposed to go to second day of shoot, but thunder and heavy rain made it unworkable.
Tried to get back to bed again after waking up (really early) and discovered that, "it was harder than first expected”.
You feel stress, “have to recover my lost hour of sleep – now”, and though you are extremely tired – you just can’t fall asleep again.
And then the alarm suddenly goes off and you wake up again.
It’s amazing, the tiredness you felt before doesn’t even compare to this one and your first breath of air feels exactly like a movie-patient being brought back to life with those electric pads and someone shouting, “clear!”.
You are practically sure you’re insane, “what just happened”, than you realize, “oh great, I did fell asleep again and now I’m even more tired than when I woke up really, really early this morning”.

Friday, August 22, 2008

So close!

Five seconds after the last post my service was required and my semifinal cancelled.
How deep is the irony that it involved polishing a text for the office blog.

Hopes for tickets and pray for beer

Our chance to catch a glimpse of the games is the semifinal in football, played here in Shanghai tonight.
Apparently the plan is to hang outside the stadium and hope for cheap tickets.
Obviously I’m not the type of guy who’ll be tricked into these obscure things and try to pursue innocent fake-tickets sellers, plus - they’ll probably have armed guards outside and jail us.
Jordan said the beer costs 5 RMB* and case was done, deal sealed.

*5 RMB =5 kr =€0.5

Poor, degrading excuses

We are witnesses of a mammoth Olympic and the Swedish athletes are about to do their worst since…a long time.
And anywhere I read (only Swedish sites of course, we are not as popular as we love to think) everyone is just complaining and making excuses.
A sailor, let’s call him “Mygren”, was “out-maneuvered” by the upcoming gold medalist and was so upset he didn’t know what to do but at least knew he was “surely never to get back on a boat again”. And when asked if he’d do the same maneuver as the winner, he mumbled, “I don’t know, it’s hard to say…”
The much better Norwegians trounced, what we can call “Swedish women handball team”, and what are the headlines; “fucking cheaters, they ‘dive’ on the court”.
And this goes on.
We haven’t won gold but are already champs in complaining and making embarrassing, sorry, lame excuses and blame their faults on everyone else but themselves – hey, retard, you’re representing Sweden, not just your shattered ego.
Of course it was the wind and the other guys desire for winning (“Mygren” was the only real contender for gold) that made you fail, and if some girls had played better, instead of just complaining, it might just have been you who’d play in the semifinal instead of the team who fair and square beat you by scoring more points.
But that’s not the funniest, no the funniest is actually the general sport coverage from Sweden, and “our sports” in particular.
Sméagol swapped her sport to something she sucks in and now no one remembers her previous sport* at all.
But it was amazing how well Swedish news made us think that her game was actually of common interest and made us believe people thought of her as a real athlete.

* Because it’s not an actual sport and no one cares about it, but it let some overgrown kids and old Russian’s be average at much, who’d suck in specific fields.

Rocky lesson #1

Following Wednesday’s gruel trial.
Nick taught me how to hold my hand inside the glove, "and the importance of keeping your thumb with the rest of your hand - not alone - no, I don't care if the thumb fits in there - you'll break it".

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Supply delivery

To be absolutely honest – haven’t really missed candy that much*.
After the first ordeal I knew I would be fine, just let craving have its go until it consumes itself.
Then reinforcement arrived along her return.
Didn’t really want it, but just because it’s there I couldn’t resist either.
And yesterday I went home and resisted some more.

*Maybe for the reason that I’ve eaten it during my whole time here – but – it’s different between candy from here, and candy from home. Aah. Sweet salty liquorice from home.


Lightning Bolt shattered the impossible WR, and boy, as a struggling athlete you were equally impressed as inspired.
“Ahead of the 200m race, Bolt did the same routine as before his 100m race, slept ‘til noon and had deep fried chicken from McDonald’s for dinner.”


Went out and bought coffe for the crew.
Small latte for her (junior art director), a medium latte for Scott (Senior Art Director) and for his eminence; a large Chai Latte.
Had a funny, well planned, really thought out joke, perfectly crafted to fit our roles, as I handed them out.
“Small for the tiny, medium for the average....” and I even had something grand schemed out for the Chai-receiver, when she abruptly interrupted me, “you know average means…you know, not so good, right?”

Food i-county issues

I’m a fan of food and especially when it’s absolutely delicious.
Like my favorite rice noodles I’m gonna have for lunch now for instance.
But when you open the lid it’s always a little to hot to chew straightaway.
Some don’t have a problem with this, like she, but I do.
It’s the same problem I have when wanting ice cream. First of all – I like to eat it from the package, but then you have to sit and wait, usually staring at the damn thing, until it melts enough for you to enjoy it.
Worse thing is when you weren’t really that up for it, but just because it’s waiting to be eaten in your lap, you can’t keep your eyes of it.
See, I could even finish this post before I tried it.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Fight Club

Been invited a few times before but been "too busy” or "sorry, lads, I'd love to, but haven't got any workout gears with".
But I have sneaked up to the roof and peeked while the big boys do their workout.
And it has always looked like one hell of a workout. They box and punch bags and pads, run in a ferocious tempo and always finish with the always-grim Circuit.
And yesterday it was my turn to join.
I had (mentally) prepared for weeks and kept my spare-away-Man U-kit in my drawer to eliminate poor excuses.
And as the buzzing alarm clock opened this morning, reminding me of my morning run; I could barely stretch out to shut it off.
Every part and every limb in my body was screaming and muscles I didn’t even know existed pounded on the sore-door.
Typing this is quite an effort, but damn, it was a good exercise.

“Send her the link”

A few months ago my mom asked for my blog-address.
Due to mailing problems I sent it to my soon visiting brother.
Today he called me and asked for the link. I replied that "if you haven’t deleted it, I’m sure it’s resting in your email – and please send it to mom this time".
"Ok, no worries I’m gonna see her for dinner tonight, I’ll give it to her then."
I might have been dropped from a high hill, cause I was so convinced it’s much, much easier to send a link than to physically give it to someone.
I'm not gonna type his response here, but it involved, “I can print it”.

“Why do you have that tee on?”

Yesterday I had my lovely fake-Starbucks tee on and felt pleased with my day and its choice of wear.
Then the French girl asked why I had it on.
Now, what kind of question is that?
From then on I decided to hammer her with ridiculous questions whenever she wears anything.
It started today with the preposterous pin on her dress.

Today’s irony-insight

You get absolutely satisfied eating sushi.

It’s Nike+ Human Race

On August 31st the world runs simultaneously* in 25 cities, and the bets are starting to crawl in at the office.
On a personal level my aim is: 45min.
On a merry hopeful level: 40min.
But I expect to finish around the very average 50min, amongst the hordes of lazy boys and grumpy men.

Glad the odds aren’t fixed yet.

* Well…not entirely, but the intention was good.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Ran late

Super stress this morning. Got out late and tried to get the stair-running over with – quickly.
That was smart, totally exhausted on the third lap and barely made it up and are still, two hours afterwards boiling hot.
But it’s moments like these when you’re particularly pleased with your uncanny cleverness – the walk to work shirt.
Thank you god.


From Saturday when Mats and i met, the festivities started at dinner.
Once I got the flash straightened the cheers went for the bruning-drink.
And one can only imagine the thrill of watching the dress with pockets shaped as gloves live.

Few things makes you happier than when you get a Facebook invite to an event you didn’t even realize you were longing for

“The most unpleasant I’ve ever experienced on TV”

Reactions after a disaster never take a break and when the tragedy involves a Swedish adored hamster, they can be quite outrageous.
She fell on the first hurdle and though I haven’t seen it, the mischief, as I understand, sums up to a reporter doing his job and asked how she was doing.
And people’s reactions are immediately equivalent to those of your everyday genocide presently happening around the globe.

Monday, August 18, 2008

I just love all these things that I’ve done

The storms are keeping their irregular schedule

It’s amusing how Chinese gotten keen for more now; they can’t even throw a storm here without making it huge.
An absolute ridiculously deafening cry instantly followed by a flash so bright it sparks illusions in mad scientist’s minds, "this could nurture the entire planet with energy for decades", they say and dream of capture one for future projects and flinch their lean fingers.

Weekend quote summary

Friday at Lounge 18.
Swedish woman:
- Are you growing a beard?
Clean shaved for Saturday’s reckoning at Lounge 18.
Another Swedish woman:
- No, way you’re Swedish, du ser ju ut som en tysk porrstjärna ju!

Finding something else to do *

The deadline on Monday feels very crucial. And yet, as much as I try, I seem to find something else to do but work.
Oh, go out, fun. Let’s do it twice, I can always work tomorrow.
But then Sunday sucker punches your ambitions and convince you to have massage instead. And watching Discovery isn’t just time-waste.
It’s tutorial time-waste.

*This should have been posted on Sunday but failed due to lack of internet.

A Saturday filled with anxiety and expectation *

Friday, Christopher called and informed he and Sebastian was in town.
We went for Italian cuisine and then to always exquisite Lounge 18, where beautiful crowds meet rich blended with your everyday luxury pay-ladies.
Woke up at two-three on Saturday and realized there was no way I could work. Went to office anyway, failed miserably but know that the growing stress about Monday morning presentation will be shattered by tonight’s happy news that Mats is back in town and our impending night on town.
We agreed to eat with dinner surprise, Mats makes reservation and I show up, and we might, just might go back to Lounge 18 after that.
I’ll work tomorrow, Sunday, promise.

*This should have been posted on Saturday but failed due to lack of internet.

Friday, August 15, 2008

Me according to Joseph

Show Yourself is nearly finished and juggling Joseph was my artist .
The well represents my curiosity and the fact that I’m from the other side of the world*, my leading ardor is Lego, hence the squared shape.

*I was almost convinced it was the other way around!

Wow, pizza AND a sandwich

The bag was stacked on top of the pizza box.
And o'boy, first I was really impressed how much food Conan can squeeze in one meal.
Then he showed me that the bag only contained the wrapped in plastic set of knife and napkin.
Of course, why not use a chunk of forest as superfluous carrier.

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Three times lucky?

Frank Darabont and Stephen King made history with their two latest collaborations.
Hell, Frank even made Stephen come off as a decent writer behind those freaky glasses.
Watched their third, and what I was dumb and hope to be greatest effort together, The Mist, yesterday.
And I’ve seen a lot of crappy movies in my day, buy few that are suppose to be good.
Usually you know you’re gonna watch a bad movie before you see it, that’s one of the reasons you rented it – to waste your time by choice.
Now before I start, it didn’t suck as much it may sound, but it was really, really annoying sometimes.
Few things are as disturbing as when a movie tries too much.
Wants to be horror film, check – but failed, wants to be about human psychology in trapped situations, check – but failed, about religion and the holy bible, check – but failed, and suddenly the movie finds itself trapped, what am I, it asks and War of the Worlds and Cloverfield comes to mind, wait Gladiator’s got great score and then it realize it’s from the ink of King and decides to be bad about all of the above and worse when it comes to characters.
Who does these things they do in the movie.
Forced scenes where you can see how the director tries to make it seem like everyone is involved and not just our “hero, the “mass-scenes” (they are like 30 people) when no one knows what to do, cause someone failed to tell ‘em where the cgi will appear and you know it’s not hard to do this cause you’ve seen worse actors cope with it in worse movies.
Two days trapped in a grocery store and they freak out– but not in the normal way of panic, no they convert to crazy bible studies and goes lunatics on themselves.
Hallelujah and good night Frank, you have a lot to prove and ten year old prison movies won’t do, no matter how great they were.
Could never be accepted in sport, just imagine.
- Why did you suck, Liu Xiang?
- Well I won four years ago, so I decided to let down and extinguish every single Chinese hope here at home.
- Fair enough, Liu, why try harder just because you made it once, right?


Someone else is getting on a plane to Shanghai.
Big brother is coming and someone looks forward to it.
But also concerned. I know what kind of things he wants, or should I say, expects.
Which is a lot.
If you, in his eyes, fail, you’ll hear high sighs and watch rolling eyes.
He’ll try to take charge as soon as I stagger or think a second to long on every question he’ll ask.
Where should we eat, where can I go for this, which is the best place to find cheap golf clubs and jadi jadi jadi.
I think someone else is doing some heavy studying about Shanghai before this.

"It's much, much better in reality"

You know when you to tell a great story but know while telling it that it doesn’t make sense. You lost control of your own narrating and the urge to reverse is immense.
But instead of doing anything right, you try to repair it by saying, that this probably doesn’t make sense anymore and it’s much better in reality and maybe we should just watch the clip I’m talking about instead of hearing me talking about it, but too eager to reveal the answer, you continue this half-insinuation of a story and while it mounts to a escapade of fables and weird assumptions and linked stories that has nothing to do with the origin tale, you escape and watch yourself doing weird attempts to finish the story from outside of your body.
Or is this just me?

Wednesday, August 13, 2008


From a guy whose record has been firmly grounded to a maximum 6, this could be considered as a testimony worth going in to books; when brave met luck.
But I led 6-3 – I really should have just won the damn thing.
Almost smiled when I cleared some space in my mind of how I would break this moment to everyone, a moment that would shatter the Olympics into a pool of nothingness.
Then luck came into the picture and bravery never quite recovered from his thoughts up in the sky and up at the podium.
To busy fine-tuning his acceptance speech I guess.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Holy mother of wow

The Olympics is constantly on full screen here.
It’s miraculously how patriotic people still are.
In Sweden we barely give a shit what goes on, well, our “newspapers” do their worse and make sure it seems like we care about our “hero athletes”, but we don’t.
But here, they show a Chinese on screen and rounds of applause shakes the office.
Something happened just now and screams filled the air.
Who died, oh Olympics, ok who won, who got the gold medal and set a world record?
But no, it’s just a fancy dive from a trampoline by a skinny Chinese.

Monday, August 11, 2008


I remember my first encounter with true magic but not my exact age, but I'm sure it was before second grade cause dad was still living home.
It was daytime and my brothers and I were having one of our countless fights and my dad pulled me aside.
I was really upset cause they tried to steal this particular truck I was playing with.
He asked me to be the better man and ignore this and said I would be rewarded if I did.
Usually my dad brought home bunch of sodas and AKO-fudge of various flavors from somewhere, hid it, and only at special occasions were we given some.
Like when you vacuumed, helped out in the kitchen, or when you acted like the better man I thought as I stepped away, sure to be sipping on a Coke before soon.
He performed his usual trick where he kept the object of desire behind his back and you picked an arm and before my rapt eyes a shiny new truck of the exact same model we were arguing about was presented.
Now mark my words when I say this; the e x a c t same. From the identical size of the tires, composition of the wheels to the lines and shapes of the coachwork. Everything exactly like the other one.
Except it wasn’t rusty and aged, but bright green and still accompanied by the fresh smell of new.
As of today I still have no answer how he did this and when I ask him, he just chuckles and say he doesn’t even remember this.
But one lucky boy won't forget

Sweet is good because it’s sweet

Developed this distinct obsession for Chai Latte recently.
Ridiculously sweet and of course therefore outlandishly unhealthy, but damn it, it wouldn’t get to be called sweet if it wasn’t so good.

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Walk to work shirt

Today the function of style was perfectly aligned with the climate crisis.
Wore my (red) Man U shirt to work today and let it take all the heat.
Soak it up, I said, and walked, as I didn’t care what temperature it was.
Now I’ll just enjoy the remains of the day in my fresh-washed tee and let my content smile shine with.

Someone is coming

Arrives Monday morning and still not sure when she’s leaving.
I’m already exhausted by the thought of it.
Have to chart my morning runs in detail now. Shall I tell her my route and risk all chance of being judged as at least partially sane, or leave her with a false impression of me covering the run-distance horizontal and not vertical.
But what if she wants to run and asks for suggestions where to go, what to tell her?
Double-steps are more fatiguing and just ignore the maintenance personnel you’ll probably meet on your way.
Plan now is to work intentionally late and eliminate most of the required chatter about nothing that might occur.

Friday, August 8, 2008


China’s doing big things good nowadays.
As of this moment Shanghai is the fastest growing city in history of time and Beijing Olympic is promised to vaporize all existing records of sport-tournaments in every category for all times with all its lavishness.
It’s quite awesome to be a part of this as it’s actually happening.
Not there and now, but right here right now.
Here’s a good assemble of the whole online virtuosity around the globe.

Just enjoying the sun

It's actually way reder and hurts much, much more in reality than it shows here.
But it's a effective way of using your entire body lotion before and during night and getting dressed like a wining baby in the morning.

Thursday, August 7, 2008

Dehydrating, no more

It used to take two persons two weeks to empty one water keg.
One person’s gone.
A hero refilled it Saturday, emptied it yesterday.
BOOM! Chazz Michael Michaels is figure skating.

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Red as a red pepper

All day I tramped grass and watched kids do clever tricks.
Smart enough to out-whit a goalie.
I can still remember the first question when I arrived at the shoot.
And as proud as I like to act, I politely declined.
And now we’re back.
I’m seriously considering…I don’t even know what, but it burns like chili and my skin is boiling.
100°, that’s how hot I am.

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Waking up in a hospital

Never had surgery nor woken up in a hospital (knock on wood) but just finished 28 days + weeks later.
And it’s not the first movie it happens, but it makes me wonder every time; why would someone just pull the tubes infused to your body as a first compulsion?
Of course it t always happen when their action is legitimized* by the plot of the movie and everybody agrees with a phew.
“I’m glad he yanked those tubes out, otherwise he’d die from the infected.”
But how come no one ever does the same stunt after waken up at a car crash?
“Woo where am I? Probably a hospital, should I yank out these tubes that in all probability keeps me alive or should I call for nurse and see if she’ll explain.”

* This might be the worse example ever, I know that.

Monday, August 4, 2008

I almost died, but I didn’t turn around

Dressing is like chemistry.
Mixing the wrong ingredients can go shit-wrong.
Came almost halfway until I actually considered dying and walk back to switch clothes.
They were soaked and I knew this last part is the most difficult one to walk, especially psychologically.
Because you know that the fewer steps you have left the more heat your body accelerates, and before soon your colleagues will see you in this shape and all your wonderful attempts of showing a fake facade as a stud is spent, and left is just a rhetorical question of, what the hell’s matter with you, sweat freak.
And with no proper answer in store all you do is smile and endure.

You’re like the freak

She’s gone and I’m hungry.
I usually don’t have any problem eating alone, just that now I kinda feel like that stared out circus-freak everyone else, including me, sit and pity and feel sorry for and without hesitation, quietly judge.
"He’s alone cause he has no friends and probably slaughter cats in his spare time."
And all you can really do is sit there and take it, cause if you do, anything, you all of the sudden confirm their weird ideas.

Everybody poses. The coolest people pose the most; they just make it seem natural

Sunday, August 3, 2008

Friday, Saturday, Sunday and a slice of Monday

Headed straight to Hollywood DVD with a rabbit foot tied to my hope.
Bought loads of movies and a box of what looked like a fake season four of Lost, but fortunately it was a real version and finished it late Saturday night.
In-between this I went on the weirdest short-pursuit ever. Went to the other big Nike store but ended up at the huge one I’ve already visited with empty result.
Strolled around shopping streets and dodged salesmen, until I started following them, up and in strange shops with secret walls functioning as doors to hidden tunnels and stairs leading to Louis Vuitton fake-heavens.
But our language difficulties turned out to be too vast when they kept insisting that shirts and shorts was the same.
Instead I headed to my fav fake-market and ended up with four stupid bags of clothes I don't need, but also managed to get three pairs of my objective of the journey; shorts – and their matching Man U home-and-away shirts + the Barca kit.
The police came and closed the whole thing a few hours earlier than opening hours and obviously the mission to sweep the streets from fake ‘til Friday is on.
Needed to expand my dining variety on Saturday, so I ordered home the food from where I sat to have dinner on Friday.
The big plan was to go for our 10k test-run Sunday and my new shorts would come to use better than the match-uniform-catwalks I perform alone in the apartment, but unpredictable rain cancelled it.
Instead I just geared up with chocolate at Whisk and used my entitlement to favorite the black away-kit of the lot so far.
And this morning seven police officers greeted me in the lobby to check my passport. As if I wasn’t late as it was and in case the stair-running doesn’t keep my body warm enough…
I was soaked when I reached the office, and Nick's, what the hell happened to you mate, -greeting was a perfect summarize.

Friday, August 1, 2008

The big woman on the tiny chair

She’s been there for as long as I’ve been here and probably as long as I.
She doesn’t do much, mostly sleep, have the occasionally meal and sometimes her friends come over.
She sits by the corner of Jamaican Coffee and the entrance to the yard and lot of cars and people pass her but she doesn’t let it interfere her naps.
She looks to poor to be fed yet stout as a rhino.
Her carriage is loaded one day and nearly naked another.
I’m not sure what she’s collecting but I’m sure it’s precious.
Cause she never leaves her spot.

Got rid of the all-nighter virginity

Were told you’d have at least one during your stay.
The cozy hours spend ‘til the break of dawn and arrival of Ayi.
The sofa looked mighty intriguing, but the urge for a shower and swap clothes was more appealing.
Left right before seven and back at elevenish for my other meeting, which I just read in an email, has been postponed ‘til 5.30pm.
Thinking of sleep brings one of the funniest men alive, Mr. Jim Gaffigan, to light.

Ever been asleep and awaken by a noise and convinced it's someone breaking in your house and they're gonna kill ya?
But instead of getting up and escaping your getting back to bed.
- Ooouoh what is that - a murderer?? I gotta get some sleep.
Can't kill me if I'm asleep.
That ought to be embarassing,
- Heey how did you die?

- Ah I was too lazy to get out of bed. yea I heard the guy in the kitchen, thought I had an hour.

Sleep is too important.
Sleep can make you give up any principle. Have you ever been invited to a thing,
- Hey you wanna help the homeless?
- Yea I wanna help the homeless.
- Meeting at Saturday at 6am.
- Ooo forget the homeless. They'll be homeless in the afternoon too.

I love sleep.
Getting up early for me is a crisis,
- Hey you have to get up Tuesday at 5am.

It affects my life.
- Hey you wanna watch a movie?
- Naa I gotta get up on Tuesday, I should get to bed now.

As it is I have to negotiate with myself to get out of bed anyway.
- Alright, here's the deal, me, I'll get up - but I'm not taking a fucking shower.