Sunday, November 30, 2008

Weekend summary:

Now. Watch the Red Devils crush little brother.
Expect a good score.

Friday, November 28, 2008

I’ll do one

Had dinner at 'the Frog' yesterday. Some sort of bye-bye dinner for Mats, who's flying back to Shanghai on Sunday.
Then we went to 'Riche' (just for a beer). And David got really excited and ordered more and more drinks and topped it with some Jaeger.
Then he left. He had to go up early. So did the others.
And only Mats and I were left after a while. Slightly bored.
So we went to 'Spy Bar'.
And danced. I never dance.

Thursday, November 27, 2008


Lately I’ve been having a lot of…spare time, so to speak. Not doing anything forces a great deal of strange habits. Watching the Ellen Show to mention one.
Which isn’t so weird to be honest. It’s actually amongst the top talk shows in the US. Letterman, unquestionable first, Conan of course, the guy who fucked Ben Affleck, but I mean she beats Jaws by far.
So what’s so strange about it then one might ask and refer to my opening of this note.
Well. My friends and I were sitting talking, and for whatever reason the Ellen Show came up as topic of discussion. And everyone unanimously agreed she was a second-class talk show host and everyone who came to her show was either a second-class celeb, or being cruelly punished for something they’d done in their career, at a celeb-party or having humped the wrong spouse of someone top-exec somewhere.
And I quietly nod my head in agreement. Like a lousy, coward dog I didn’t step up (or spoke up) and told them they were wrong. That the Ellen show is actually one of the most underestimated shows in television and way better than Jaws and (probably) only beaten by a few better shows.
But I didn’t. I never want to experience that chap again.
So here’s her redemption. At a widely read blog. This one’s for you, Ellen.
You’re funny.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Whose bitch

Been doing laundry all day long. That includes both my brother's and my dirty undies.
In shifts with my own comfortableness I've been transporting myself down all seven floors and hanging, washing and separating white from color and what temperature each item can handle (I've even folded his socks).
Like a sweet, loyal, submissive housewife to a rich baron in the late 19th century.
And who says men can't be anyone's bitch outside a prison?

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Glad I’m alive

Usually I run at least five times a week, and most of the times I complete them during the weekdays (i.e. weekends off). This week was slightly different.
I've been absurdly jetlagged, and this Tuesday I was in the same shape as a decapitated man and simply caved in skipped the run. And Friday was a gruel tired-day where I spent the entire day horizontal. But I knew I had to reimburse for the long lost runs this weekend.
I woke up piss-early today and geared up. Today was the long run. Then I looked outside. Blizzard. "But then again, how cold can it be", I brightly thought to myself and went out.
After five meters the snow drenched me and I froze to ice with every step I took, and the rest of the one-hour run was horrific.
Not the run itself, that went surprisingly well.
But my hands. I didn’t wear gloves and it proved to be my first poor decision of the day. When I returned I couldn’t even get my keys out and my brother had to open the door and attend to me.
The hot water I poured over my iced hands turned out to be the second poor decision and I knew amputation was close.
As luck turned out, I haven’t had to amputate and football is on the menu.
God bless ‘white’ weekends.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Eerie thoughts

I think a lot. Some people think I think too much. But that’s alright. People can think what they want about my thinking.
The thing is lately; I’ve been having some weird, nasty thoughts that I tend to fulfill (the story about what whatever subject or matter) in my head once they pop up.
I’m not talking about reaching a closure on every thought or so, but annoying enough to make you feel like a creep.
A friend popped the every-guy-must-answer-question the other day, what would you rather do: blow a guy or get stripped in the ass by a guy, until ejaculation on both of course.
And I started contemplating about the options, I don’t mean giving any serious thought which answer (ass, of course), but picturing myself in the situations…
Or whenever old couples pass me by, I can wonder if they still have sex, then I get all eerie pictures in my head of their naked bodies colliding while still strapped to their wheelchairs…
Must. Stop. Now.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Post Vegas…

After a splendid time over in the big country far east, Sweden seems (if possible) even smaller than usually. It has taken me about two days just to adjust to actually being at home again. Well home.
At my brother’s apartment where he’s kind enough to let me crash on the bed-sofa.
But it works perfectly fine; after all, it’s only temporarily.
I plan to leave the country before soon.

Sunday, November 9, 2008

Time difference

Been sitting in front of my computer and doing some work (ok, idiotically hung-over too of course) for a few hours. Erik and Gustav have been sleeping in the two beds in our room and the rest of the gang has probably been on the ferry to see the statue of liberty. Again.
Then I decided just now to head out to town “it’s such a lovely weather and we are in New York after all".
And precisely now, Erik told me it was eight pm.
I thought (was pretty damn sure) it was around two-ish.
That’s six hours of wrong.
But at least we took a stroll in Central Park this morning, so I don’t feel too bad about it.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

NYC boy

It’s amazing. I feel so at home here. I think it might be home. In another life I must have lived here. And to connect to my past-life I should therefore live here again. That simple.
We started our first day at an English sport bar and watched Champions League. Soon Oskar, Peter and Per with his American wife Melissa joined.
Then we taxi’d around town to experience the craziness of election night and to be a part of history.
Nutty Americans consumed with alcohol and high on patriotism in public areas and hidden away places.
I just love my imminent hometown.