What has just happened? John Peel was buried Friday, and now ODB has died in a recording studio, probably from a heart attack. For those of you who don't know who ODB, aka Ol' Dirty Bastard, Osiris, Dirt McGirt, Joe Bannanas [sic], Unique Ason, Big Baby Jesus, or Russell Jones (or even "Rusty" as his mother called him) was, you better read up here.

Yesterday Mikaela and I went to Staffan and Patrik, where we enjoyed a great three-course meal. I'm sad that I couldn't film what went down, but I can say it involved wine, great food, greater company and Patrik lying on the floor laughing his head off. Almost literally.

We all left their place and met Frederic, with whom we cabbed to Cattelins, a gay place in Gamla Stan (Old Town). We queued for a while, and had a nice time. I can't go into details, not because I feel I'm a bad story-teller (which I am), but hey, I am one right now, as the alcohol from last night numbed my effing skull to oblivion and back. No, it didn't. But I'm lazy and can't be bothered. Anyway we all danced and had a nice time (despite the DJ sounding as if he was pissed out of his mind when attempting to crossfade tracks in time) and went home when they decided everybody should leave. We came home and went to bed around 5 in the morning, woo-hah. As I'm writing this Mikaela's asleep. The last words that came out of her mouth was "I'm gonna be sick, I wanna sleep, I want a pizza and please throw something dark over my head." And she slept. I'm just hungry and am considering to rummage through the yellow pages just to try and find some company that can make a gigantic pizza and just drive it here. Aargh, my body craves unhealthy food right now. Must...eat...brains.