I have no internets here. This foreign language keyboard is kicking my ass. '@' is a '>', a colon is a 'Ñ„Ñ‚Đ²', and pressing 'Caps Lock' backs me out of the page. Truly, these are the most primitive of days, pour vous vous.
But I digress. I am in Sweden and I want to share my first impressions. I had a real malfunction trying to log in earlier, so papa's had to go real old school and use a pen and paper for the evening. I've been taking notes and stuff in the field. I ain't even got a notebook. The 'Receptionist / Door Man' don't sell no notebooks. I'm using like 8 A4 pieces of paper stapled together. Fuck me.
This has taught me 2 things. 1) I cannot spell and rely far too heavily on the spell check function. 2) As I like words I really should have a notebook on me more often. (Also my hand writing is awful. Just awful). Anyways, I'm writing this from some hostel in the middle of Stockholm. I'm in some shitty internet cafe built into the building, where the energy efficient light bulb keeps turning off unless I wave my arms around like a retard every 5 mins and stocky blonde people keep bursting in like they're auditioning to be bad guys in Die Hard. You've got the part, Hans. Now jog on. But I'm full of duty free whisky and lols ‒ so I must press on.
This will be a 2 part affair. 1, when I came here. And 2, when I lerned stuff about here. Because of the technical limitations in this situation, there will be no pictures because I don't even know how to download stuff on this piece of crap computer. I am sorry, the internet.
I wasn't that sold on the idea of a hostel at first. I thought it would be full of annoying fucking kids keeping me awake. Turns out, we're the annoying fucking kids. We just got told off by some Spanish guy because he needs to get his snooze on. He can eat a dick. I'm by far the baddest dude here because everyone else is asleep and I'm the only one still awake and still boozing. But we have moar serious problems.
There's 3 of us here ‒ and the guy who should know the most about Sweden (he's dating a Swedish woman) has lost his bank card. He's only marginally less drunk than I am (we got pretty boozed up on the plane. And the bus), but he's very much the Aragon to our Pippin and Merry. We need him to get to Mordor. He's cancelled his card and shit, but I guarantee it'll turn up tomorrow in the bottom of his bag. We shall see.
We went out for a booze but tbh we don't have a clue where we're going and it was a pretty timid first step. A tentative toe into the pool. But the city is simply beautiful. I feel like the world is my crustacean. There's a lot my ex would've loved here. Architecture, history, culture, a disproportionately high number of American Cadilacs ‒ it's diverse. I like it. It reminds me of that village in Professor Layton on the Nintendo DS. Win. However, there's a lot of cargo pants here. More then should be seen in a major city. It's moar like an All Saints gig.
So that's my first impression. Normally I'd buff and polish this situation up before posting, but I don't think this piece of shit computer has got my back. I'm going to break it before we check out. Like really fuck it's situation up like in Office Space.
My friend asked me before I came here, "So, are you going to sleep with some Swedish women?" It's a fair question. There're some beautiful women here. Very long legs. But so the hair's blonder and the legs are longer but then there's some beautiful women back in sunny Brighton. I don't really know what I want to do. I'm just here for the lols mainly.
The thing is downtown Stockholm, reminds me of downtown Toronto, reminds me of London, reminds me of anywhere. The starless night of the inner city is as blank and impersonal as a city anywhere. It's the people who make it worthwhile. Do I really need to travel to know that?
I know that you'd love it here.
I noes that I need to go to fucking sleep.
Good night, the internet. I love you. x
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