Ouch Me Back

I fricken love tennis. I started competing locally when I was 11. I started out 0-4 and then won my last 7 matches to finish 7-4. At the award ceremony I got an award for most improved player of the season.

But then I spent the winter eating pretzels, drinking cokes, and playing ColecoVision. I got fat. The first match of the next season I hadn't swung a racket since the award ceremony.

I thought I could play on talent alone and I was very wrong. The first kid I played was dressed in white with sweatbands and everything. I felt pudgy and moving around the court was difficult. I lost 6-0, 6-0 and pulled a muscle in my leg and I couldn't walk for a week. I was so pissed off I quit tennis and took up golf instead (but that's another story).

Well now I am 36 and playing tennis again. I won my last match on Saturday 6-0, 6-3. The next day I had a lesson at 9am. I hit well and was feeling awesome. After the game I bent over to pick up the last ball before going home and I haven't been able to bend over since.

But this time I will not give up. I plan to get back in shape and play for the rest of my life. But there will be challenges. Although it's not ColecoVision, pretzels, and cokes anymore, now it's XBOX 360, whiskey, pizza, beer, & cigarettes.

I need to recover for a week, drop a good 20 pounds before May and get back in the swing. Wish me luck. And if you are in Stockholm and need a hitting partner let me know. Gotta run my ass around a bit.

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I'm Skiing Drunk in France While You're Working

Went skiing last week in Megève, France with Linda, Svenja, and Ben. We drank all day and all night and ate everything expensive and fattening we saw.



Here is a photo of lunch at 2,000 meters.



And one of lovely Linda as well in a sexy ski pose.



Svenja and Ben are pretty sexy too considering they have like 5 kids and work as financial analysts in the City. How the fuck do they do it?



But they are not as sexy as me! Look how beat/literary I look in this bar chatting up the chalet girls.



And finally here is me again drinking at noon and eating soupe a l'onion. My Mom tells I'm the handsomest sloth in the world. I say it's more fun to drink and eat than ski.

Merry New Year

All hail the Axe Anti-Hangover Shower Gel, without which I wouldn't be alive today.

No really. New Year's lasted long into the night. I met lot's of new people and partied all night. I want to say that New Years in Sweden kicks the shit out of New Year's in the States. People really get into fireworks and drinking here. You could die with all the amateur displays out there.

In effect it's like 1,000 mini fireworks displays happening all at the same time all over the city. No firemen, no police, no barges like in the States. The best thing to do is to get high (in elevation!) and watch in awe. It lasts all night, really.

For people who like to explode things and kill and maim so much, The USA has some some pussy fireworks laws (and thus displays) in comparison. Viewing one of them would lead you to believe it was a civilized country. Probably the fireworks laws got passed in the 70's when Carter was in power and all the Republicans were either on quaaludes or devilishly planning the Reagan years.

One Swede told me that fireworks were the only good use for gun powder and it's fitting that the USA would ban them from the public. Ha ha. Merry New Year. May it be the best one yet for drinking, smoking, and screwing. And the worst one yet for hangovers and killing and maiming (fat chance).

Happy Christmas - Not

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.