Having renovated the living-room, Mikaela and I grabbed a Pol Roger, a bottle of Nikela (that was graciously given to us by the Runborg brother, at our house-warming party) and left for Muma's parents' little house in the country side of the Stockholmian south.

A fun time was had by Arvid, who was the first person we met when at the gates of Muma's family residence. He was blindingly drunk, but who cared? He's a very nice person, with original ideas.

Frederic took a picture of me (using his spanking new Sony Ericsson K700), looking like somebody from “The Blair Witch Project“.

People drank, had a good time, and Frederic got really drunk. We ate some of the salad that Frederic had made, spoke a lot with Jocke and Arvid about Einstürzende Neubauten and possibilities regarding opening a hotel in Croatia (not my idea). And of David Bowie, which is always a must when Arvid, a great Bowie fan, is around.

By the time we were ready to go home, some of us were really, really, really drunk. I got home by cab after piloting Frederic some, and fell asleep at 03:30, tired and content. It's always fun to meet some people you really like (“¦), and this crowd consists of people I seldom meet, but who always are fun to be with.