Thursday, December 14, 2006
One of my pet peeves is people saying, "When are you going on holiday?" In my mind it is impossible to go 'on holiday'.
Christmas is a 'holiday'.
Easter is a a 'holiday'.
When one stops working and goes somewhere because they are tired of working, that is called a 'break' or better still a 'vacation'.
What is my point? My point is that one cannot go 'on holiday', any more than one can go 'on Christmas' or 'on Easter'.
One can, however, go 'on vacation'.
And that's I intend to do for the next week. Thank you.
And while we're at it, one eats 'candy', not 'sweets'.
And one drinks 'soda', not 'fizzy drinks'.
Okay, now I am going to take a 'little blue pill with a V on it'.
Happy Christmas for real. Not not. I am drunk. I plan on staying this way after putting up with Swedes all month on their home turf. They are starting to get to me.
Plus Linda and I are upset because half our salary went to taxes this month. Merry Christmas. The government here is the living realization of Orwell's Big Brother. But there are people dying and people who can't afford alcohol. I think of those people a lot. And then get depressed and I drink and then I get mad again and want my taxes back. Let them die. I want to die a petty fool with my tax money in my hand. And if I died of a disease it wouldn't hurt so bad to be stolen from. The end. No merry Christmas for real. Only Brits say Happy Christmas and I am 100% Drunko Americano at this time.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
No, it's not the new Muppet movie, it's the news.
As if we didn't have enough of them on Earth, there are now for the first time swedes in outer space.
While this is not the least bit newsworthy outside Sweden, here it is like the biggest news of the year. The lucky guy is Christer Fuglesang, who has been telling everyone he was going into space for the past 16 years. So much so that it became kind of a national media joke.
Like every astronaut accomplishing a first, he got to make a speech. Fuglesang was quoted as saying: "Det är nog inte alla som förstår svenska...de senaste fyra dagarna har varit helt otroliga. Jag vill tacka alla som hjälpt och stöttat."
For those of you who don't speak Swedish, that translates into: "It's rough up here. Space was not really made for Swedes. I went outside on a space walk and I couldn't find a single lingonberry or mushroom growing anywhere."
Friday, December 01, 2006
Well I just spent two weeks in NYC and FLA visiting friends and relatives. Pictures soon. Great to see everyone again especially Mc, Kyle, Lee and my little nieces. They are the cutest things ever.
Now that I am back in Sweden I am JETLAGGED as a mf. I swear jetlag is like the bad part of being on drugs (not that I would know what that's like).
As a frequent trans-Atlantic traveler, I am often a victim of this disease. In the past I would just pop a few valiums (melatonin is a joke) but in Sweden there is no such thing as a connection, so finally I got around to looking up a cure on the Internet.
It said to stand outside in the sunlight. Gee. The author of that little gem obviously never spent a winter in Stockholm because I will have to wait until March to get some sunshine around here.
So it's off to the liquor store for me. Passing out is the Swedish Wintertime cure for jetlag.