Vomit in a glass, please

This past weekend, Canada started its annual seal hunt. Thousands of baby seals will be killed for their white fur. There have even been reports of seals being skinned alive and many celebreties, including Paul McCartney, have spoken out against the cruelties of the hunt. The baby seals are either shot by rifle, which isn’t preferred since it leaves a gaping hole in the skin, or beaten to death with clubs. So naturally, I went clubbing.

I had originally intended to go out solo once again but as I was getting eady I get a call from a friend of mine, who shall remain anonomous to protect the innocent. He reported that he was sitting in a hot tub drinking beer and asked if I was going out. We agreed to meet up later at Royal Night.

An hour or so later I am at the club and meet the chick I have been talking to for the past three or so weekends. We chat for a while until I get a call from my friend, who is now standing in line outside. Once again the line grew quite long (some reports indicated that it was a half hour long) so the trend reported previously seems to be correct.

I walk to the windows and see my friend and two other people I know, who from now on shall be called Mickan and Robbe. My friend comments that my boobs look big through the window and makes some strange tongue movements as he strokes his own chest. Then he notices the chick standing behind me (the one I had been talking to) and tells me to go hit on her. A few minutes later they are inside.

My friend seems to be in a tip-top party mood. Mickan tells us that they have been drinking tequila shots but since they didn’t have any lemon they used chili instead. We head out on the dance floor. After a while my friend disappears. Robbe comments that he can see him over on the other end of the dance floor dancing with some chick. ”Allright, way to go” I think and so I leave him alone as not to spoil his groove.

Skip ahead a few hours. I haven’t seen my friends in a long time. Me and the same chick are hanging out, chatting and drinking cola. Or rather, *I* am drinking cola. She says she can’t stand the stuff :O Anyway, after a while I see Mickan and so I ask her if she’s seen my friend.

”That’s the thing”, she says, ”he’s sitting over there in a chair, passed out...well, he’s not completely passed out because he makes some noises when you poke him”. As it is my duty as a friend to take care of him I head over there to check on his condition. When I get there Robbe says that we probably should get the guy outside because my friend is saying he needs to throw up. We discuss what the best approach would be and graba an arm each. As we lift him out of the chair it is like squeezing a ketchup bottle a bit too hard as the meals of the day make a re-run all over the floor and on his own pants. Luckily it missed my shoes.

Robbe sees a large glass and holds it under my friend’s mouth for a while. The glass gets half full (or half empty if you are a pessimist...I wonder if that analogy applies to these situations...and which is which...). We try to get him to walk but his legs seem to have lost all their strength. He is like the Terminator at the end of the movie where his legs have fallen off and he is dragging himself with his arms accross the floor...but without the killer instinct and metal body..and having the use of ones arms.

Anyway, we manage to get him outside. The door guy thanks us because he doesn’t have to take care of it. We try to get our friend to sit down but he falls over and throws up a bit again, this time it’s yellow. ”Inside it was more pink” I think to myself. Once again I thank my lucky star that it missed my shoes. Hey, they were very expensive! And are my favourites right now!

At this junction I would like to point out that there was still a line outside. Some of the crowd thought it was quite humorous and asked my friend if he wanted a beer at which my friend responded with a line of profanities. Anyway, after a while my friend manages to sit up straight and after a few more minutes he is up and about again and asks if we are going back in or what. We reply that he probably won’t get in anymore tonight. My friend frowns a bit and asks in what condition he was in when he walked outside. I tell him that he didn’t actually walk out. ”Ooh, that’s pretty bad” he replies and continues over to a guy selling hot dogs nearby (which are quite tasty I might add) while proclaiming in a loud voice that he is hungry and wants food.

As he orders a large hot dog with everything on I tell the guy to wait a bit until we find out if my friend has money to pay for it. ”I don’t know”, my friend laughs and digs through his pockets. He comes up with a handfull of change and says ”well, it’s *pretty* close...I see 70 cents here”. I count the money and it is actually 1.10 Euro but still nowhere near enough as the dogs are 3 bucks a piece.

We stand around talking while we wait for the taxi that Robbe has phoned for so my friend will get home. My friend explains that it isn’t his fault that he got sick. It was Robbe who had given him beer and stuff. It was supposed to be a quiet evening for my friend but noooo, Robbe wanted otherwise..Then my friend notices two chicks coming out and shouts ”it’s HER fault...she was so hot I threw up”...The ladies don’t take any notice. A taxi stops by the curb and I go back inside.

The bright side is that I doubt that anyone in line actually saw who we dragged out. His face was facing downwards the whole time and by the time he was active again everyone had gotten inside already. The bouncer has probably seen this kind of stuff all the time. The chick I was talking to commented that she thought my friend seemed ”nice”...but a bit drunk. No harm no faul as they say.

The only person who got a crappy deal was the guy cleaning the floor...and the person cleaning the tables. Mickan had seen her pick up the glass filled with vomit and her reaction as it slowly dawned on her exactly *what* was in the glass.

Oh well, this week we do it all again.

Strange dreams

Tonight I had really strange and somewhat disturbing dreams and as a result I woke up late...very late, I had 20 minutes to eat, fix my hair and wash my face and get to work. If I walk it takes about twenty minutes to get to work. If I take the car it takes about ten minutes (it would be half that if I didn’t have to park so far away). So naturally I had to skip something in my daily routine. I chose not to eat but to bring a piece of bread with me to work instead. But anyway, back to my dreams.

I originally woke up at 7 but decided to snooze a bit and that is when the shit hit the fan in dream world. I had dreams about me fighting some sort of female bat-demon in a paralell dimension, dressed as Batman of course. I later tamed the demon and there was some pretty graphic, x-rated stuff there...with a black dude involved...he filmed the thing.

One dream was about my cousin who was going on a hike through the Himalayas and another dream was about our annual summer trip. Me and Martin wanted to go to Åland as usual but the other guys wanted to go to a bar in Germany and watch some strange band. Me and Martin ended up going to the movies instead, which was a tv in a room with two red sofas.

At the movies we met some old friend from school and at some point a war broke out but me and martin figured out that we could dodge the draft by going partying instead. How that was going to work I do not know. So we put on our suits, because we had calculated that you have a 50-50 percent chance of getting laid if you wear a suit. When mentioning that statistic to martin his sister sticks her head in the door and says :”you have statistics for everything about picking up chicks”.

It was a strange morning...and I’m late.
And I blame Vamok (a student union) that had a party tuessday night I decided to attend. The party made me go to bed at 6 so the whole wednesday was fucked up, which obviously lead to my freaky dreams.

I didn’t have high hopes for the party as the last two they’ve had sucked pretty bad but there were quite a crowd there and I got coke for free. I also met a chick I had previously met and she bought me a coke as well...S C O R E !
She asked me why I wasn’t at Oliver’s Inn (another bar frequented mostly by Swedish speaking people) and I turned it around and asked her why she wasn’t there. To which she replied: ”because I don’t speak Swedish and don’t drive a tractor”. It is interesting how we Swedish speakers are perceived sometimes.

I also got the impression that she thought I am some sort of ladies man because she then said she thought I didn’t go there because if I went there all the time I wouldn’t be able to find chicks. She also made a comment about me coming to that party to score and asked if I also had found a chick last saturday or friday. Taking into account that a while back another chick had said I was a ”casanova” I can’t help but wonder about it.

I don’t actually mind giving that impression. I see how it *could* hurt me later on when I want to find a girlfriend but right now I’m just taking it easy and having fun being single. Being single is great! I have almost nailed the guitar solo to ’The Final Countdown’ by now. Later on I’ll start working on Eruption...again.

Well, anyway, back to work. Right now there has been a coffee break and the women here have been discussing foods they can’t eat and high blood pressure. And they wonder why I think everyone here is old.

Weekend at Royal

So I went out solo yesterday since all of my friends were busy doing...whatever. Probably spending time with their girlfriends or fascilitating the love making process of minks.

I went to Royal Night since I had thought it had been awesome there last saturday. I got there at about twelve . It was quite slow at that time but people were dropping in at a steady rate so the place filled up fairly quickly.

There isn't much to report actually. I met the chick I talked to last saturday so I spent most of the night chatting away with her. I am getting to be quite certain that she is hitting on me but I don't think I'm willing to give up the single life just yet. She is cool and all (she thought Band of Brothers was great) but I don't really think "it" is there either. And I have decided that if I'm going to start something more serious with a chick it'll have to be one very special woman...who likes Warrant...or Bon Jovi. So I think I'll keep this one loosey-goosey. Besides, she doesn't live in town during the summer so she is probably going away in a few months and I'll be damned if I'm going to spend another summer in celibacy! No way!

My new shoes are great still...

Nothing else really to report...

Sorry...

I didn't even make out with her...

Magical shoes

So I bought new shoes yesterday. I have been planning on doing it for some time now since one of my old pairs are on their last breath. I wanted a pair that I could go out partying in but still use during the day time in the summer and look cool. Another important criteria was that the shoes should get me laid.

My partner in crime, Martin, bought a very nice pair of shoes about a year ago I think. A chick actually commented that he could get any chick he wanted while wearing those shoes. So obviously I was looking for something in a similar style. I found a pair that looked very similar. I went out to the clubs yesterday night and after one outing with tose shoes I must conclude that they have some sort of magic mojo.

Not less than three women hit on me. I would like to think I am okay at recognising when someone hits on me but I would be a fool to think I notice everything so it’s only reasonable to think that since I noticed three, there must have been more. These shoes rock!

One of the chicks was a Finnish student visiting from Seinäjoki. She and some other students from the same school were in Vaasa for a ”drinking trip” she said. She was quite attractive but there are problems with trying to bang chicks from out of town when I need to go to work the day after (I won’t leave her in the apartment). Anyway, I am pretty sure they had busses booked and went back when the club closed.

The other two was the interesting moment. Two Colombian chicks started fighting over me...sort of. Not like hair pulling, scratching and biting but more like making snide remarks and evil stares at each other. Then one of them started making out with me and the other one wanted to kill someone...It was quite amusing and fucked up at the same time.

I could probably have checked off one of the goals on my famous ”list” (those who have heard of my list know what I’m talking about and those who haven’t probably don’t want to know...especially you sis’ ) but the whole situation was weird and fucked up so I decided to drop both of them and go home and get some sleep instead. No regrets.

It is with a newfound faith in partying I am heading for the weekend and another night of clubbing. Especially with these cool new shoes. I guess shoes CAN get you laid...Either that or I have suddenly become absolutely freakin’ gorgeous!...no...must be the shoes...

Crappy September-show

Well, this weekend I have been out partying twice, Friday and Saturday.
A Swedish band called September was playing at Fontana on Friday and since I had seen the video on MTV and thought the female vocalist was quite attractive I figured that if nothing else I could just sit and watch her for a while. The tickets were also quite cheap, only 6 euros if you bought them before the gig (8 euros at the door though). My good friend Jens joined me.

I had thought there would be a line the size of my dick when we got there but when we got there; there were only five people outside…(at this point I would like all of you to refrain from the small-penis-jokes). We went inside and the place was nowhere near full but it did fill up quite fast. As we waited we sat at the bar doing what men do. You know…talking about feelings and stuff…Okay so if you really want to know we were watching this chick with a cleavage the size of the Grand Canyon, wondering if her tits would fall out. They didn’t…unfortunately.

Jens also noticed that some chick was checking me out so I figured I’d talk to her at some point later during the night but sometime after the show she disappeared. Probably went home to bang her boyfriend while thinking about me. There are no other alternatives.

The show sucked donkey balls.
First of all, there was no band so they were singing to a backing track. I also suspect that the backing singers weren’t singing for real because it sounded a bit too close to the album version, a bit too polished. I also suspect that the lead singer was backed up by a singback track. So basically what you were paying for was watching semi-celebrities lip synch to backing tracks. Okay, that wouldn’t really have bothered me all that much if they had played more than five songs. I thought they were joking when they thanked the audience and got off stage. If I had been a fan or paid 8 euros at the door instead of mainly being there for the chicks I would have been real upset about it.

The rest of the night was okay even though most of the crowd went home after the gig.
Me and Jens shook our money makers a bit with some Finnish chicks for a while before they ran off on us. I also met a chick I had met a few times before so I talked to her for a while but being a gentleman I will not reveal any dirty little details. Instead, on to Saturday night’s events.

Some of my friends were going out with their rink bandy team. So I decided I’d go out as well. Unfortunately, they couldn’t get their thumbs out of their asses and decide were they were going so I went to Royal Night. I got there at about half past 12. The line outside was longer than it has been in years. It was like the “good old days”. I stood there freezing my ass off for half an hour before finally getting inside. The place was packed, excellent.

I chilled at the bar for a while before I met a few old friends from high school. There were quite a lot of attractive ladies there too. Among others, that sweet as candy blond chick I have been checking out for some time. Once again she was with that dude she hangs with. And I won’t go up to a chick and start hitting on her if she is standing next to some guy. That’s how wars start you know. Why do you think Bush was so PO’ed at Saddam? Because Saddam had been hitting on Barbara, that’s why. Oh well, one of these days I’ll get the nerve to talk to her…when she chucks that loser boyfriend of hers that is..No he’s probably a nice guy, quite attractive too…though not Jude Law-attractive.

Oh well, no worries, I still had fun. I met this other chick I talked to for a good part of the night. I didn’t even try to sleep with her or anything. No, I’m serious! Stop laughing! I did give her a hug at the end of the evening though.

So I’m thinking I will definitely make a change and start going to Royal again. It seems that the popularity of the place is picking up again, especially if Saturday was any indication. Another plus is that the dance floor is packed right to the end, whereas at Fontana after three you have fifty horny guys all hoping to score with the four ladies there. At Royal night there is a good number of chicks right to the end. Another plus is that Coke is cheaper and the patrons are a bit older (I’m getting bored picking up 18-year olds and feeling like a pedophile).

Yes, that’s what I’ll do.

Mr and Mrs Kong

Yesterday I came to the conclusion that my brother could or maybe even should become an artist. He’s got that whole ”somewhat depressed and deep in thought”-thing going on. I don’t mean he should become like Michael Jackson or anything (but if he does I will be right there supporting him…ready to take some of his money).

But he’s never really been into painting or sculpting so he has to become a writer/musician…person. Maybe my brother is a genious! He has a very easy time saying that something is stupid, which is basically what geniouses do.

Me, on the other hand, have no ambitions for greatness or becoming a genious. I embrace mediocracy. I want to express my individuality within the confines of what everyone else is doing. Okay, maybe I want to be a bit better. I want to stand out just a bit but not enough so that people will think ”man, he stands out”. No, I want to stand out just enough so that there will be an air of mystery about me….Basically so that chicks will become all hot and bothered. But apart from that I think being like everyone else is cool. Individuality is overrated anyway.

In other new, I just found out that I have managed to score tickets to the party of the year, Pampas Nationaldag (Pampas’ Independence Day). That’ll be one hell of a week. Party on!

Oh, and be sure to be on the lookout for my soon-to-be-released single ”Mr and Mrs Kong”. Only available online…or if you ask me nicely I can make you a copy.

I am a casanova

A friend of mine had a party this weekend. Actually, it was his girlfriend’s birthday so she had a party…and I use the term “party” very loosely here as there were three people there in addition to myself and my friends (who would have been there anyway since we had been planning on going out). She didn’t even have any real food, just potato chips, cake and some pie. I was hoping there would be food because I hadn’t eaten much. My friends were also talking about cars and boats the entire night so it was quite boring.

I had been planning on going at 11 to a bar and see a band but the guys couldn’t get their thumbs out of their asses until 11: 20 so naturally when we got there we had to stand in line for a while but we got in pretty soon anyway. The band was quite good but I ahd been hoping that they’d play a bit more hair metal than they did. And here we break for a flashback moment…

A few months ago I was flirting with this chick at Fontana. She asked for my number and a few days later sends a text message asking if I were heading out that night. So I went to a bar where she and her friends were supposed to be. I meet up with her and *surprise* her boyfriend (who was a nice guy). As I and the boyfriend are standing at a table talking another chick comes up to the table and starts talking to us. Turns out she speaks Swedish and grew up not far from where I did so we end up chatting for a while.
Fast forward a couple of weeks.

I meet a third chick at a club, turns out she lives in the same building as the second chick. These two chicks become friends or whatever. This weekend they were both at the bar where the band was playing. Number 3 chick flirts with me quite heavily ‘cause she is nearly falling-over drunk. Chick number two proceeds in warning her about me because apparently I am a “casanova” or something. Geez, you try to pick up a few women and that is all they talk about. Hey, I’m single, if I want to hit on a chick I will and damn everyone who takes offence…damn them all to hell (in the voice of Charles Heston in Planet of the Apes). After a while I head over to Fontana where my friends are at. The chicks do not follow as I think chick 3 was somewhat embarrased about her drunkenness or whatever.

The night at Fontana was a boring one…again! I don’t know what the f**k is wrong these days but it seems that it sucks whenever we go there. Nothing really noteworthy happened. Jens tried to get me to grab some chick’s ass on the dance floor, probably because he has a girlfriend and can’t do that himself even though a chick was dancing with her ass in his face and he was getting increasingly “frustrated”. His girlfriend is currently vacationing with her family in Mallorca or something like that so she’ll be gone for a while.

Hopefully it will be better this weekend. A Swedish pop group (September) or what you might call them areplaying at Fontana so I’ll go check them out. I am not particularly fond of that kind of music but I think there’ll be loads of chicks there.