Hey, I bought a Nespresso Essenza D90!

After work, I met up with [avatar:https://niklasblog.com/bilder/avatars/fdp.gif]Frederic[/avatar] outside NK, where we checked out...the pralines. I waited for Frederic as he bought a pair of new Paul Smith-shoes, so I had to get hold of a bunch of pralines, truffles, dark chocolates and such for Mikaela (and myself). After that we checked out the Nespresso stand. It seems Nestlé, who supply the Nespresso machines and paraphernalia, are intent on showboating the machines live, which was very good: we got to taste the strongest of the coffees, a ristretto, as that's the only available ordinary cru that ranks 10/10 on the Nespresso damn-that's-strong scale. As I said "I'll take it", Frederic voiced a "I'll take one, too". Phwoarr! The Brothers Bespoke ride again. I swear I'll put that phrase on a t-shirt some day.

So, we went out into the Stockholmian evening each carrying his new machine. We headed to åhléns, where I got hold of a shower créme and a couple of other stuffs for my beautiful self, and then headed home, where Mikaela and I checked out the machine, while feeding ourselves on truffles. Ooh, 'tis pay-day. The mildly psychedelic instruction manual is very easy to follow (for everybody who's not seizure-prone à¡ la epileptics) but as I'd filled the water container and got everything heated-up in order to run a bowl-ful of water through the machine, I pressed the magic button and...nothing happened. Having waited for 10 seconds, I turned the machine off and checked the manual. Trouble-shooting. "If water doesn't appear despite your turning the machine on, turn it off and turn the lever upwards, in order to let air into the machine." I did. Vesuvius. I made it out alive, though.

No sweat, I found the strength to go on as I'm that kinda person, popped a pod called "Lungo Decaffeinato" into the machine and let it fly. Sure enough, the coffee spiralled down into the cup, but I didn't manage to turn it off straightaway. Anyway, the coffee surpassed my hopes. We added milk, and it tasted really fine. I can't wait to get to try the rest!

Then, I checked the pretentious material provided with the box. A little hard-covered file was attached, so I read that one. Apart from the commercial stuff, the Swedish CEO, Kristen A. Hovland, says this:

By choosing Nespresso you have shown that you prefer a quality-conscious lifestyle. We thank you for your trust.

Eat my arse. Does that mean that not tip-toeing through the tulips (i.e. following every command from) Kristen & his/her cohorts is quality-unconscious? Lead me into zombie-land, please!

This did not make me bin the machine, though. Instead, I gave Kirsten another Norwegian crown (as I strongly suspect Kirsten is from Norway) to feed Statoil and Nestlé with, by logging into the Nespresso site, where one orders coffee. See, the pods that fit into the little machine are the only way to produce cups of coffee. These pods can only be acquired through the Nespresso site, or by telephoning the company.

I faced an introductory offer. Would I go for a special assortment for a very low price? Hell yeah! But, I couldn't get it through the Internet. Bummer. As I discovered this as I was about to make my first order, I decided to call the Nespress hotline. Did I want to speak Swedish, press 1. For English--I pressed 1. And I was suddenly speaking with somebody Norwegian, who spoke...Norwegian. To all our international users, understand that Norwegians 1) understand Swedes better than the other way around and that they 2) have two major Norwegian dialects, Nynorsk and Bokmål, each hellish to my ears as the slang started to flow. I felt like the Elephant Man at times. "Ullo...I dont...I don't understaaand." Anyway, I had to complete the order on the Internet, read my order number to the person at the end of the telephone-line and then she'd have to complete the entire thing for me. After the call, I got an e-mail saying I'd get everything - but it didn't mention the box. Well, hell. I'll see what happens. The Nespresso demons claim I'll get my stuff in just a few days.

Oh! I almost forgot. I ordered the Director's Label #2-box today. I've written about this earlier, and here's their new site where you can find all the interesting info on the DVD's, and I must say the new site is a lot better than the first one which was truly pissable. Why do many artist(s)/artist collectives have such shitty sites? Maybe because of the same reason that most people I know who work with computers don't exactly keep their private computers in good form. Imagine a cluttered desktop. Then imagine Katrina meeting Rita on it. I download everything to the desktop to start with (at home! at home!) so there you go.

And, before I go to bed, please, I implore you, download, buy or steal Ol' Dirty Bastard's song "I Can't Wait". No, you fiends, the lyrics are not enough! Go get it! The world is a much better place with it in, and ODB is one rapper/philosopher that I truly miss.