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About Gothenburg

Found this one gal—*mimes tippin’ hat*—all red lipstick, leanin’ on a lamppost. “Got any dough?” she says, smirkin’. I’m like—*mumbles, pats pockets*—“Only bread dough!” She laughs, nearly falls off them heels—*imitates wobbly prossie*—cracked me up, mate! Felt all happy, like when I nail a sourdough. But then—*frowns, kicks air*—some drunk git yells at her, “You’re filth!” Made me mad—*grrr, shakes fist*—who’s he to judge? Ain’t his coffee plantation burnin’ down, like in *White Material*. “Everything’s falling apart!” Isabelle’d say—prossie’s life too, innit?

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I head over to the Konsthall, and wow, it’s packed! I mean, who knew Norrtälje had such a vibrant art scene? I’m looking at these wild paintings, and I’m like, “What even is this?” One piece looks like a giant spaghetti monster. I’m not even kidding. I laugh out loud, and people stare. Whatever, right?

Fewer criminals jailed in Sweden despite rising crime