Birthday party for Scott

Dug up some photo's from last Friday.

Melvin, Yu Sin, Achilles, Julie, Louie, Emilia

I believe it was a birthday party for Scott. I don't want to recall too much from this night. I think.
But it was a Korean place.

Scott and Conan

Saké. Or something similair.
Yes, you were allowed to pay extra to do the chef's job.
More beer coming in and before you knew it; gin tonic’s flowed.

I think Scott was given presents.Scott with his new gifts.

And that's the last thing I remember.

Coconut rice

Try it.
Let it linger a bit on your tongue before you order it, tastes good right?
Absofuckinglutelydelicious, if you ask me. I pictured how the rice was cooked inside the actual coconut and wondered if it had those significant shredded coconut pieces all over it or not.
Either way I knew I was guaranteed a taste-sensation of a lifetime.
But the coconut rice didn’t accompany the chicken I wanted, so I asked the waiter to replace the couscous with coconut rice, but instead of running off to the kitchen to heat up the stove, he tried to persuade me to go for something else, that it really wasn’t that much to ask for.
It’s just something we sprinkle on top of it.
And then he did the sprinkle-movement above an imaginary bowl of rice with his fingers to emphasize how it was done.
As my food is being digested I’ll try to absorb the sentence ‘something we sprinkle on top of it’ with it.

Rain and comics

We had a fantastic day yesterday. The sun was shining, people were smiling and kids were bathing.
Only problem was we were working the whole day. So I was forced to witness this spectacle from the inside of an office window.
Ok I guess, could’ve been worse, it could’ve been sunshine today as well and another day of sitting inside with a bright glow staring at you with a glimmering that says, hey there buddy come out and play, it’ll be alright, it’s warm.
Fortunately it doesn’t; the rain is back.
I still like rain, makes me remember rainy days spent in our country house in the Swedish archipelago when we were kids.
We had the biggest, meanest basket of magazines and comic books in the whole wide world. You could take a dip in it but cautious so you didn’t drown in the rich mix of Phantoms, X-Men or Donald Ducks.
Killing freezing hours, concealing clouding days and sheltering from rainy weeks were done with passive ease and absolute pleasure.
Wish I could read mandarin and almost makes me want to travel back in time, cause those were the days.

I lied

They hammered me with questions and we athletes do as we always do in tight situations, we try to dodge them.
I have to admit; it wasn’t my finest hour.
People were drunk, including moi, and I dodged with a lie.
Not intentionally. But still.
They asked how long I’ve had my moustache and I said three years. Three magnificent years of facial hair caressing my over lip.
It's actually two.
October, 2006, in Hong Kong.
The first moments was frightening, couldn't look at myself in the mirror without being startled, I felt like a loony drunk German porn actor gone completely nuts.
And now I can’t picture myself without it.

"I’ll do one at lunch, but that's it"

Lunchtime in Shanghai.
It's very easy to picture the decisions going on in the man's head.
Ok four, but not a single more beer than that.

Forget the key is clever

Almost forgot to mention my major catastrophe yesterday morning when I was running late to work.
I wasn’t really late in the first place, but she went here like an hour before me so I got all stressed.
I remembered getting dressed that I couldn’t find my key to my desk where all my necessities are when I switched pants from shorts to jeans; which later turned out to be exceptionally clever on this heated day, but thought, whataheck, I’m glad I gave the extra-key to her a few weeks ago.
Meaning I don’t have to worry about that now.
So I didn’t and rushed to the office only to see her nodding her head with a face that said, ‘nope, key's in the apartment’ better than any words could.
Charging through the crowded streets again wasn’t the best for my increasingly heated body.
Body fluids were starting to egress again. Chaos inside. But a clever mind convincing the body to just relax, it’ll be fine; I love my mind sometimes.
Got all naked and stood in front of the swiftly turned on AC before I decided I could double back full speed again when it hit me; my soaked clothes.
I’ve already showed myself in the office, people know what I’m wearing today.
Even now, writing this, I actually think that people notice what the ridiculous Swede wore on his 5 min appearance in the office that morning, I mean, I notice them and like to compliment them on their outfits when nice enough to be appreciated.
Does anyone really give a damn?

Visa issues

We have a 6-month working visa and a 3 months trial-contract.
That should allow us to stay in the country and work for the next 6 months, (only three needed, but still; simple math) right?
Oh no, wrong
We’re only allowed to stay for 30 days in a row and with only two entries.
Fast-calculation going on in the never-ending-factory-with-no-off-switch upstairs, but the sum keeps adding up to 60.
I’ll try again; we have a six months visa, a three months trial-contract, that’s twice the amount of days than we need, but the damn number 60 keeps coming back.
I must be from Värmland; cause I feel completely retarded.

Stocking up

The secret-supply-locker was echoing ‘more than empty', so the savior rushed down to stock up with more.
Here’s what excited fingers stumbled across:
Notice how Dove not only celebrate real beauty for fat chic’s over 40, they make sure that this they're in full need of skin-redemption-lotions for decades to come:
Chocolate your average pimpled teen hitting puberty in time, so when they’ve reached the delightful age of fat-40+, they'll guarantee that future sell is covered.
Disgusting or brilliant?
They’re also very careful here about candy.
Forests aside, they make sure it’s extra protection where absolute needed.

Water supply

First it was every Sunday.
Then on Mondays, then Wednesdays and now we’re down to replacing our water keg once every two weeks.
Humidity’s going crazy-up and we’re lowering our water supply.
Doesn’t make much sense.
Guess dehydrating will.

Welcome back

We’ve sure missed you.
Life hasn’t been quite the same since you so discreditable were deleted from your spot as a ‘planet’ in our solar system into the humiliating ‘dwarf planet’.
Not that your honor is fully remanded as chairman of the brand new, ‘plutiods’, but you’re at least crown of your own category now.

So Swedish

Another couple sat next to us, they were also Swedes. I tried to figure out what dialect they spoke, but couldn’t, later I was told it was Värmländska.
It was very funny to listen to, really awkwardly funny, maybe they’re all retards from Värmland.
As they sat down I mimed ‘Swedes’ across the table to avoid any unexpected inconvenience.
Not sure what, but living in a country when no one understands you creates a lot of spontaneous…talking about them in funny ways.
Of course, everyone else does the same to us, so it’s really not a big deal; we’re all circus freaks in a cage, which side of the bar is just a matter of perception.
They noticed us too, cause the quiet game began.
Four people sitting there smiling, knowing that any words spoken from now on will be noticed and forever ruthlessly judged.
Us Swedes, so cute, it must be only football and beer that makes us confront each other.

Decisions

Sometimes I have so, so hard to chose it rips my heart out.
Like when you’re handed a menu, and – everything – looks good to read.
It’s like the Wild West again. Or prison.
Point being, it’s fucked up hard to decide.
So you go for both.
Your body’ll probably thank you with a fat-punch in the love handles while your brain reminds you of the full-summer-with-a-T-shirt-on coming up.
But you’re too busy shoving another piece of Apple Crunch into your mouth, soothing the curiosity of what the merged taste of it and Chocolate Fudge cake is to notice.

Two issues

It’s getting really humid now and I’m also running out of candy.
The huge fucking wall of heat, now mixed with 100% humidity hitting you every morning is getting critical.
But that’s out of my reach to handle, sweets not.
Haven’t kept up my candy-consumption as heavy as I thought, partly because it’s hard to find good candy.
I’m very picky when it comes to sweet; preferred ones so to speak.
In Hong Kong I stacked up a lot but all good things comes to an end.
My mind is now confused.
Buy new stuff or torture myself until the compulsion kills itself.
From years of devoted experience I know that the urge to inhale sugar will diminish by time.
But I've also learned I’m weak. As soon I find any new candy I know I’m gonna buy, whether I want it or not.
Just in case.

When first impression isn’t the one you hoped for

The stair running went really good. Almost two and a half laps with the new invented double-step.
So shouldn’t this just kick start the rest of your day?
One might expect so.
Instead it’s been a drowsy day filled of fog.
For all of you who’ve seen the Myrornas Krig on TV can relate to this subconsciousness.
It’s just too much going on, too much to comprehend and too little engagement from your brain to activate any kind of response to the cluster of thoughts.
But I know from experience something amazing will come from this.
After rain comes sunshine.
Sometimes you need to fall to be able to stand up.
We’re onto something really good here.

The weirdest fucking noise

The biggest roar abruptly fills the sky, and I totally freak out.
Godzilla. Cloverfield. Jisus fucking Christ we’re screwed.
But it’s just our everyday gentleman Chinese, cleansing his throat right beside you, like they do everyday, all the time everywhere.

Today was the day

Totally forgot.
We had even planned a big party here, but time weren’t our partner during this process so we postponed it.
How can you postpone midsummer, that’s impossible, perhaps, but don’t let what you can't do interfere with what you can.
So geniuses Rob, Liana, Emilia and Conan thought we’d all go to IKEA and buy the stuff needed and throw one here at the office.
Due to our lack of having time as our comrade, they went.
And believe me when I say it was fucking great, teaching Chinese to sing Helan Går at one pm in the middle of the office is awesome.

The wall

You’ve finished your stair running and stretched your pathetic muscles.
And now the real race starts: get ready before nine.
AC is on full speed and you carry your mini-towel the whole time, ready to wipe off the abrupt moist.
It’s the same procedure everyday so you reflect on the master classes taken:
Experience is a hard teacher, because she gives the test first, the lesson afterward.
-Vernon Law, Pitcher for the Pirates
But as time has finally met with what-you-must-do, you leave the apartment, and though you should know by now that the outside temperature is not your allied, the maddest wall of heat slams you straight on, all your preys are instantly towards Lou:
No one has ever drowned in sweat.
-Lou Holtz, 1937-, American Football Coach

Four reasons

A simple man needs simple things.
In this case, a quartern much fun.

Got all freakily hungry

Can’t help it. My pulse rises, head twirling, eyebrows flinching. The muscles are no longer mine to control.
I'm in a shadow. Tunnel vision. Inhale food. Now.
My favorite spot in the whole wide world greets me with the same menu I’m so custom to, and I’m not the kind of troublemaker who wants to throw in a serenade of surprises, especially not in a mood like this, so the instant I enter the noodles are prepared.
So one might think.
The wait is tremendous. Horrible. Awful. No adjectives can describe it so I’ll stop.
Then I have my compulsive behavior of spicing things up, open the lid up and throw sauces in.
Maybe it’s an even plot against me, cause they should know this by now, and yet; they keep insisting on tying my bag so implausible hard.
Full minutes flash by your very eyes as you struggle through the knot.
And every single second of those represents one without food.

The empty space

Had a stay awake party with Pretty Boy Matz tonight.
There were some really loud (i.e. drunk) Russians, chanting away (i.e. being fucking annoying) the whole game and while we didn’t deserve to advance in any way, we deserved to have something to shut up the idiots with.
Yes, you’ve scored. Twice. You’re winning. You’re through to quarterfinal for the first time ever in a big championship and we suck.
Be glad that you’ve won, not happy that we’re out.
Be-fucking-have.
I wanted us to win just because these guys didn’t deserve to celebrate.

Fun in the kitchen

Everyone’s giggling and the sporadic power laugh covers the kitchen, it’s sure something fun going on.
I don’t get a word of course, so I just look up from time to time and smile, a polite way of saying, hey guys, it’s probably hilarious keep it up, and then I continue to slurp my noodles.
Than it hits me, the irregular glance at me and power laughs are scarily simultaneous.
I think I know what's so funny.

Monsoon time

It’s been raining now for the past couple of…weeks, I guess.
I’m really a fan of rain; kinda love it to be honest and to go even further I love the winter.
Makes me remember when I was a kid, I always had such trouble picking my fav season.
With the occasional birthday in January made it quite impossible to go the easy path with warmth and everyday swimming.
You could swim in the winter too, it was cold, but possible.
But could you gear up in protective armor, load the ‘pulka’ with lethal ammunition and launch an ambush snowball assault in June?

First pizza

After finishing my first pizza in this country I could slowly start function again.
I’m the kind who could live without pizza, burgers or any type of chips; whether it’s Swedish chips or French fries (point being; salty) for as long as I live.
Easily.
But now it was just one of those rare moments when your hunger’s been eating your testiness from the inside for a very long time, forcing you to take measurable steps to overcome it.
Today, pizza was the salvation.
I got very cranky I have to admit. Blaming everyone in silence for things that wasn’t their concern.
And as always she got the biggest blame.
Feel kinda bad about that now, not bad enough to apologize and admit my error of course.
Just bad.

Even their own store

Look again, they're there alright.

Literally everyone has a pair.
Saw someone who didn’t, concerned I looked again, of course he had 'em, he was just departing the flagship store with a new pair under his arm.
It’s getting really scary.

Pick three flavors

No, that’s fine, love my strawberry shake, I’ll do one.
Aouhm… oh, jiee, I don’t know, quite a hysterical jump off the menu there, it says pick three flavors… wait I’ll check with the kitchen first.
I'm much happier now.

Disquiet

I’m not in my top mode right now.
So I bought my first four toys yesterday.
Doesn’t patch up the whole damage, but it sure consoles a bit.
Then I watched Soulmates and listened to Babybird.
Usually I hate this kind of bullshit, but now it was just cute.

Sorry, what?

In the army service we had the 'in-and-out test'.
You take the exact same test when you discharge as when you joined, checking faults and errors that might’ve occurred during your service, so they can later deny all involvements in any post-related illness or injuries.
It includes examine simple things like hearing, eyes, etc.
I still remember when the doctor said I had one fault in my hearing test.
The carousel was spinning and I was off to buy snacks on the amusement field; I’m the type who consider one wrong to be worth celebrating, and as the doctor said it involved my speaking tone I was already gone in my head, riding up and down the roller coaster.
And now you pay the price of this joyride.
For example; just had a meeting and reviewed some of our ideas, and as Mr. Digital, was sitting across the table and gave us some pointers I couldn’t hear a full sentence he was saying.
Did I tell him and asked him to repeat himself? Of course, any sane person would do that.
But, like Ferdinand, I sat, just nodding my head, puzzling my eyebrows from time to time and gave the notion of being very much indeed involved and present in the situation; don’t want him to think that I might be thinking about what he’s saying and not really listening to him.
That would be rude.
This hearing problem has only grown into an even worse thing than the problem itself.
It’s not that I’m shy, but I just grown custom that people find it annoying with a smiling lad on the other side of the table going constantly; SORRY, WHAT?
So I just sit there quietly, smile and hope that someone else, much brighter than me will take notes and explain it later, in a much, much less noisy environment than a conversation.

Weekend summary

Too little time, too much beer, too few Swedish goals.

One minute me

Had a Show Yourself presentation here at work, and this week it was my turn.
Had a grand masterplan how to encapsulate the very core of yours sincerely, a harddrive loaded with video goodies and dazzling pictures of everything that represents me.
Only to discover an empty harddrive.
De fucking nada.
Part of the reason I worked so late last night, was trying to put together a film about myself, really pushing and selling the core of a Swedish hero.
Who is this mystery man. What does he want, and why.
The whole process was a nightmare and escalated into a blurry presentation with muddled picture and jumping image going too fast for anyone to get anything.
All my funny jokes went by unnoticed.
I'm devastated, empty.
But life goes on as it always do, and it’s Juri’s last night here and we have to channel our energy, enter our nirvana and feel lucky they at least serve boneless beer in this country.
Stop whining you sissy and do what you do best.

The greatest one ever

Ok, a few moments of reflections, and maybe because I just scrolled through his impending stuff, but it strikes me.
Like Zlatan hitting a thrusting sledgehammer against any given team, or a raindrop patently going down, either what you compare it to; it’s evidently that Brad will be the biggest movie star ever.
The range of work he’ll be doing simply proves it; teaming up with Malick and Penn, Fincher again, the Coen bros and Aronofsky.
Nothing can go wrong.
I mean, what’s left to ponder, eze.

Dear Lord, Benjamin

The Spider sense is mammoth.
Like a rash.
Why this torturous wait for Brad and David to finally team up again for this masterpiece to come. It took em’ almost ten years to do so and though I know it’s been worth every second.
I’m just puzzled why.

Late hours

Got home 3am…ehm, today.
It’s loads of fun, but it’s crazy, people work so much here.
Getting home early means you’ve probably done something wrong.
Like the feeling when you stayed home from school, and when your mom asked you why you weren’t there, you cocky replied that there’s no school; day off, remembering the teacher mentioned something about not coming back tomorrow as you left yesterday.
Just to discover that your class is all off to an excursion looking at flowers; conscience crawling under your quilt like eczema.
What what’s gonna happen with my life, I must tell mom; maybe she can drive me.
Then you switch on the TV and discover cartoon Transformers is on, so you ponder the options.
Evil Decepticons taking over the world vs biology.
Knowing that Prime’ll need all the support he can get and that flowers will, most certainly continue to grow anyway, and you suddenly cough.
No way, the flu? Don't want to infect the flowers and damage the process.
And now, I sit here smiling, thinking about the toxic pollution here, and that an unwatched Indiana Jones part four eagerly waits at home.
I’m not desperately tired, but I am starting to feel unexpectedly ill.
But then again, Prime and Bumblebee did make it, and those flowers did smell awfully nice, eh?

My duty

Wrote this post about responsibility of doing stuff.
My compulsion.
And the Spider-sense of have to buy stuff from poor salesmen and endorse the dodgy restaurants is quite loud as I stroll the streets here.
I feel like it’s up to me, my obligation towards humanity to provide them with their daily bread and butter.
Of course I never actually do anything about this, but that’s beside the point.
It’s annoying.
I feel like a savior and knowing I’m not is quite dreadful. Walking with both guilty conscience and shame is not a nice combo.

Elevator height

One of those moments when you feel really western in China, e.g. tall.
Riding in an elevator and look in the mirror.

Makes you wonder

You kind of want to investigate what was going through his mind when he shaved this morning.
It probably led to a reasonable debate between him and his wife.
Honey, I’m gonna be on TV, why’s it so difficult to understand that I can’t look like the beardy version of Mel Gibson, that would look ridiculous, I wanna have neat, sharp cuts toned with my physical features.
And as the razor ravished through his screaming face his Mrs. was left with a blank stare astonished by the eerie comparison.

New tastes

My version of the tickling Spider-sense is definitely the one for trying the latest stuff with a climax for new tastes.
I’m a deep and compulsive addict and it works with such ease. When anything launches something new I’m screwed.
It’s probably never done before and certainly delicious.
Why would they else do it? The money spent on this and the many million track records of people’s opinion can only result into something amazing.
And then we’ve reached to the counter reaction to this mess, my own personal kryptonite.
Living abroad.
Everyday access isn’t always matching the demand of their high quality customers and is nothing you can count on, which has developed into a deep, dark, compulsive behavior.
Last weekend, in Hong Kong, I stormed into two new flavors from Snickers; Dark chocolate and Almond.
Do I need it? Of course not. Give me some.
I’ve tried Dark chocolate before and don’t even like Snickers.

Hair Director

We had an awesome wig-party last Friday and another Christian (wow) took, very seriously, the role as chief creative hair officer.
No one was allowed to put it on without his surveillance and involvement.

Met these two in the staircase just about when we were leaving.
So, so close to a cozy bed.

Name-nemesis/Hair Director

He started with her, I started to imagine what would come.

She's a woman, of course she looks good in a wig.

Before I knew it his hands was all over my head, touching my face...

Terrified what he'd might to to the arguing troublemaker, I could only submit to the humiliation.

Obviously, I had no option but to pose.

The Hair Director was mighty upset as his role was challenged by his peers.

Jam

Saw that a big jar of strawberry jam arrived to the office.
Since we don’t have any decent food to put on the bread to make a sandwich I quietly celebrated like a tornado inside my head.
Don’t want to make too much noise about this, imagine if everyone else discovers this sweet, red, moistly thing.
What if they like it.

One more day

Our Monday was an extra national holiday so it was a great three-day weekend.
I celebrated by going nuts at my favorite fake market, Feng Shin Plaza and just last night overstuffing myself at Coconut Paradise.
The only I know of, and by far, best Thai joint this city has to offer.
But first, shopping.
I even made a list of what to buy so I could leave with a light conscience and without the excess stuff I really don’t need.
But now it’s like I feel like I’ve almost grown friends with them, greeting them and the occasional handshake here buying the extra pair of undies there and two more piké there, hey lovely shirt you got there – desperately need three of those.
And so this goes on.
Sometimes I can get the notion that it’s my duty to buy stuff.
How will they else survive.

New logo

She designed this one for me, thinking my other one looks too scary.
But I'm not completely convinced.
Of course it looks scary; it's 95% of its daily purpose.
It's a crocodile. A raw, mean killing-machine.
Not a wobbly drawing.

Saké it to me

Went to Japanese all-you-can-eat-buffet last night with guys from work.
Brilliant idea and concept.
It wasn’t like the one you’re used to in Sweden where they have a separate table with all the multiple-cooked stuff on.
On this one you could order anything you wanted from the real menu and drink all you wanted.
Anything.
Like is said; brilliant.
But after too many saké I came to my senses and remembered I had work to do. So from 11pm til 4am a drunken Swede was trying to figure out brilliant ideas.
Not so brilliant.

Awkward silence

Just went to the lavatory and learnt two lessons.
Like when and not to bond.
And it all starts before urine.
#1. Friendship.
Every guy is a potential comrade but few will soar to friends. Customarily the safest way of telling when you found a keeper is by the silence test* and preferable it'll pass without notice.
Spending a moment together without the urge to mention last nights score, burp or any other way to break the silence that so slithering crawls up underneath the heavy cape of noise we guys, secretly hoping to be superheroes, so comfortably dress up in.
It’s the same bond in sport that makes us hug after a goal and cry after a loss.
A male thing.
#2. Lavatory.
And yet, as I got company by the urinal I accidentally got a bit nervous, maybe my subconsciousness saw him as a potential comrade, and broke all rules of lavatory manners.
Mixing it all up; talk, no talk, when to talk, hi, silence.
Brave enough to acknowledge my mistake of greeting my urinal-companion; I zipped up without apologizing, realizing that further conversation could unleash hell.
What if he thinks I’m gay.
Conclusion: In the lavatory, the always-uncomfortable muteness should be treasured dearly and bonding must never occur.

*It isn’t a real test.

I eat too much

It’s just after lunch and I have that, puffiness, going on again.
Not that I feel too awfully fat or so*, but after every meal I’m always overstuffed.
It’s quite annoying.
Worst thing is when you’re not even that hungry, just feel for a snack or so.
Just a bite.
And then the delicious monster plate of food arrives and before your stomach reminds you of your lack of hunger, you’ve shoved it all into your mouth down and to your belly.
And there you sit, blown up, in view of why last time you ate this much, wasn’t.
It’s all so sad, but then again, I’ll be the first to admit I am very sad.
It'll never happen again.

* Yes I do.

There are times when I miss home a lot

And then there are times when I'm pretty glad I'm not there.
In truth; don’t miss it at all.

Making noise

Noticed that I’ve developed a distinct new feature. Without any reason I can formulate certain, sounds.
It’s all very weird.
I have to do something, and then you’ll hear me groan and exhale like a baby craving for mama-tits. Putting on my new, too tight Dunks, and I grump like an exhausted Smeagol.
My most habitual one is; ameh.
Ameh, is moaned when exhaling and act surprised over anything and nothing.
I wish I could be more exclusive with it than the random, fit-everything purpose it’s grown custom to.
I feel exactly like Grandpa Simpson.

Excuse yourself

When we work, or brainstorm, as one might call it, we often apologize to each other.
Right before we’re about to expose our witty, clever, funny, insight, idea or suggestion we tend to beg for forgiveness.
Ok, maybe this isn’t the Titanium or so, but anyway, here I go, and remember, it’s not ready or done yet, just a…something that popped into my head like now.
And then we explain our thoughts and hope, in silence of course, that the other party is gonna correct us.
No you schmuck, that’s simply brilliant. YOU’RE brilliant.
Our relentless pursuit of acknowledgement and recognition is such a sad, sad thing we keep subject ourselves to.

THAT feeling

When you say, that today is the peak of my life, and in some weird way, mean it.
I have that NOW.
It’s the same feeling that Frank Ricard in the tremendous Old School, has when he describes his aftermath from the party (where he went streaking naked and ended up in his wife’s car full of her girlfriends).
Frank:
I had an awesome time!
Beanie:
I know that you had an awesome time. I think the entire town knows you had an awesome time.
[to Mitch]
Beanie:
And wouldn't you want those times to keep on going?
It will go totally bonkers for me as well of course, but I’m sure gonna enjoy it until then.

Pragmatism

Once in a while I get quite fond of the idea that others perceive me as very intellectual and cool.
Someone in the know.
Read the Time list of the 100 most influential persons in the world, where certain celebrities tell a story or share an anecdote of one of their peer-celebrities.
There, some star described someone else and used; pragmatism, and I do as always when I find something I don’t understand, grin and look very satisfied as I make space in the brain for it.
Problem is, when I tried to use it in a full sentence she just corrected me without flinching.
It so humiliating.
It’s always the person whom you’re about to impress that all of the sudden turns into a master degree professor of the subject.
I need to do as the wiz-kids in spelling competitions do; ask for the correct use of the word in a sentence, before trying it myself.

Recognize those shoes, man

Hello, I said to him and he said, hi. Looked down and his shoes looked awfully familiar.
I’ve worn those kinds of boots.
Some years ago I was a self-chosen villain in the city. Being a bike messenger means you have to keep up with certain, self-made, expectations and key words.
Fast. Daring. Not caring.
I rode my bike and owned the world. Or at least the streets in Stockholm and got ticket after ticket and crashed more times than the bird that’s trapped in a summerhouse struggling to get out through the closed windshield.
It was those kinds of boots he wore, same we use, SPD, the ones you click in and stuck to the pedal.
At work.

I fell for it yesterday

Like the angry rebellion I swiftly wrote a post about it. Then it turned out to be a campaign from TU in Sweden, and without consideration, removed it.
Ah, silly me, working in advertising and not being able to spot advertising, I said to myself as I corrected my stupid mistake.
Now I’m not sure how this blogging works, but I’m pretty sure I did something terribly wrong here.
You can’t remove stuff, once it’s posted; you’re going to be haunted.
As always when it comes to internet, there’s no proof to find. Remove tags, refresh pages, syntax error, all neat packaged under the colorful, overseeing eyes of Google, if you can’t find it, it plainly doesn’t exists.
I obviously just beat internet, but as it’s alive and has a mind of its own, I’m gonna get smoked on my way home today by a secret agent wearing his red, yellow, green and blue matching outfit.
And no one will notice.

Never enough time

We were in a bit of a hurry so we decided that there was no time for Lego buying.
We don’t want to miss the plane.
Seconds later I was mesmerized but my mind was confused.
How did we manage to bend time and drop into this Narnia type of time-freeze-zone-shop where Louise was now trying on pants and shirts, smiling and giggling away.
I just sat and waited in the chair, playing and mixing words and sentences together.
We don’t want to miss the plane. Lego. Unfair.

Chocolate’s fine, thanks

My new life started just minutes before take-off from Hong Kong.
I took a vow; this is it.
No more, greasy, fat, unhealthy, but mostly, unnecessary stuff, I really don’t need. And as the landing wheels left the ground, I left all my troubled sugar-needs there with it.
Five minutes after the deliciously creamy pasta carbonara I ordered my first banana milkshake.
The waitress kindly explained that the vanilla ice cream wasn’t soft enough, and that it would take a minute or two.
I rapidly replied that chocolate ice cream would work just fine, knowing that promises are just mind-fucks with your head trying to keep your senses in coalition and that life will go on just the way it always has, with or without chocolate.

You want mine?

Sometimes she reminds me of Xerxes in 300.
Then people will see that I am kind.
The surprise element is far over as she lets me choose food, I always go for the lovely rice-noodles. So what are the odds that these tasted like the worse piece of shredded diapers ever.
We also got soup with it and two (2) meatballs in.
Usually, I kinda like those grey balls, but since the baby-undies-taste was still tingling in my mouth, I wasn’t too enthused.
As she reached the spooned to my reluctant face to offer her second meatball I could think of nothing but Xerxes.
Then people will see that I am kind.
I presume that makes me, Leonidas.

In Hong Kong, some people are Funny

Lovely hotel

On our flight over to Hong Kong I had some time to contemplate things.
Like when we first flew to Shanghai, it was about a month ago and we had a pit stop in Helsinki. Eager as you are moving to another country we were blessed with a 24h delay.
My aggravation cooled down to the same soft, unhurriedly pace of accommodation arrangements from the airport personnel.
Deceived by the buoyancy of a 17-year old getting laid for the first time, convinced that the best hotels are located between the airport and the city, as the bus turned in on the grey dumpster called parking lot.
Our room reminded me of a miniature dollhouse from the early 80’s, designed by the weird fantasy-mix of Jackson Pollack and Tokyo at nighttime.
The bed was still soft and warm and you could easily make out the silhouettes of the fat cats cruising in here before going to their real homes on it, paying by the hour.
I prayed our hotel in Hong Kong would have another architect.

Chi she

Just got back from our trip to Hong Kong and as our water was out, I ordered some more.
As the waterman enters I greet him with a simple, hi, he smiles and replies, niaho.
Frustrated and disappointed I didn’t show off my always improving Chinese; I clinch my hand, determined to thank him using his native language.
Nihao, I say with a smirk just as it hits me.
As quickly as I may recover, shouting, chi she, chi she, it’s too late, my chance is over, he just closes the door and pretends he doesn’t notice the sad little fella, screaming, hi, at him