Well I suppose this weekend deserve a special mentioning in this scripture. You see my dear interested reader, this weekend was the traditional and randomly occuring "Pripps-night". This might need some explanation to the uninitiated reader. Pripps is a brand of beer in Sweden, with very special commercials, they usually consist of young, popular and succesful people go out to the sea and have a party, with barbecue and swimming and stuff. All in stylish slow-motion and accompanied by a specially-composed slow rock-ballad. So a couple of years back me and my friends Stefan and Andreas said to each other as we were being bombarded with one of these commercials. "Our lives are boring and dull, dammit, we need to be cool like these people" So plans for a "pripps-night" was laid out.

Since Andreas girlfriends father had a house by the sea, this project actually got realised. Basically what it means in reality is that once every now and then, we all gather up and go there, bringing lots and lots of processed and distilled beverages. (alcohol for focks sake). We barbecue (if the season and weater alllows us), kick back in the sauna, go swimming in the sea, consume said beverages and most imoprtantly, play the slow rock-ballads from the commercials, over and over and over again.

So this weekend we did the old ritual all over again. Me and a friend of mine had decided to share a large steak and some potato-salad. When I say large I mean huge, and when I say huge I mean it was "the mother of all meatslabs", "the boss of all things barbecued", "the patron of all pigparts". Unfortunatly bigger is not always better, when it comes to the culinary, we soon learned. While the meat was ok, it was covered in some kind of spicey, salty marinade-thingy. The intesity of the saltyness (yes, that's a word) can only be described as horrifying. My tongue was contemplating suicide just to end the suffering. Well a couple of drinks later, it miraculously got the will to live back.

The party was - like always - a great success. A big thanks to Sara, and her father.

Back in the regular world, my life moves along in a slow pace, controlled, regulated and jasmine-scented for your enjoyment. I got a haircut so now I don't look like me anymore. Lets say I decided to embrace the doom nature gave me a while back.