Viking invasion

On the penultimate night in my hostel, 2 Swedish guys and a Finn with no hands invaded our room.  8th century AD all over again.

We were half asleep (Me and 3 other girls from my old Sixth form), when there was a bang. I go. I open the door.

"Hej"
Barge in.

Lol okay..

One of them was around 6'5. He was 35, from Gothenburg city, a rock enthusiast with waist length blonde hair. There's 2 beds and 1 bunk bed; 3 guys, 3 places to sit. Fab.

One friend gets the Finn with no hands, the other gets the friend, I get the Viking king himself.
"Erm, I'm really tired."
TAKE A HINT TAKE A HINT TAKE A HINT TAKE A HINT

This guy is impervious.
"It'd be really nice to lie down with you"
"Can you plait my hair?"
"You're lovely... you're awesome... you're lovely... you're awesome... you're lovely without makeup"
"Your hair's so soft".

Meanwhile the friend is hitting on my friend hard.
I'm sitting in bed, covering up my shorts, with him putting his hand on my hip
"Hahaha... no"
He tries to feel my arse
"Hahahaha... no"
"Okay now I'm embarassed. I'm really embarassed. I didn't mean to do that, it just felt good".

Okay. Really. Time to go. NOW.

The Finn with no hand (his name is Felix, he's been in jail twice for graffiti, and he's 21) has left already, so it's just us and the Swedes.

"I think you should go."
"But this is so much fun"
"Go"
"But-"
"Go"

The friend tries to engage in a discussion about Baroque music.
No thanks.
"I dislike Baroque because I don't like the harpsichord. And no humming Vivaldi doesn't make you look cultured. Kk bye"

That only took 2 hours.

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No one in Sweden actually takes drugs.
Or perhaps they do, and they don't sell?
Apparently pills are rare in Scandinavia, so no one takes them.  A chav at a D'n'B night offered me speed for 300 Kronar.  We declined.  The closest I got to drugs was a few tokes of a spliff from the same chav at the same place.  Btw, D'n'B in Sweden = remixed UK grime.  No I don't know why either, the whole night was 'raving' in a tent listening to 'Some people fink I'm bonkers' with a bassline.  Hmmm.

Anyway

I opened the door to a portaloo toilet.

Oh, sorry.  Someone in here..

Wait what did I just see?

LOL there's someone doing coke in there.

Whoops.

There's definitely drugs in Sweden.  :\

Lol at doing coke in a toilet.  I've never done that.  Gross.

Actually.. I have :S  Oh well, lol at doing coke in a PORTALOO.  Definitely haven't done that.

Cause I'm a classy girl.

Going well off topic.

The D'n'B scene in Stockholm is dead.  No worries, I was drunk for most of that night, I don't remember *that* much.

On another night, someone fell on my face.

Or maybe the right verb is jumped.

Don't know don't know don't care.

I was drunk.  Shitfaced rather.  There were lazers.  It was Major Lazer (He was in Annie Mac's mashup once).  I'm completely out of it, and someone from the stage decided to crowd surf.  Heads up; DON'T do it unless people are gonna catch you.  No one caught him, he fell on me.  I'm lying on the floor, wasted, there's a Swedish man on my face, stepping in my hair.  Ug wtf.  Why am I on the face?  OUCH.  Did I just get kicked on the nose?  I am way too out of this.  I smashed a bottle and cut my hand, whilst one of my friends threw up tequila and the other got off with a randomer.  Fuck what you say, we *are* classy girls.

About an hour later me and my friend had seperated from our other friends, were sitting at a bus stop on the wrong island in Stockholm, without jackets, waiting for a bus we couldnt remember, to a place we couldnt name, at around 4 in the morning.  Oh dear.

I got loads of drunken confessions

"So, like, I went to Proud galleries with this guy who was just like fucking Russel Brand, so sexed up, and he kept groping me, and I went back to his and ..................................................."

"Wait wut... when was this??"

"I tell people it's 2 but it's actually 5"

Oh.

:o

"You know what, the first time  I met you.................... "

Eeek.

ALCOHOL.  Isn't it great?

_________________________________________________

Transcript from a conversation a few weeks ago:

Him: i recall u get really really pissed that someone had stepped on ur hair

Me:
Wut??

Him:even though u seemed dead, yeh,
think jamie
like stepped on ur  hair
when u were half dead :
and u woke up
and went kinda ape shit

Me: NO memories of this

Him:but due to being so drunk it was not very scary
was at a's
you dead for like 1 hour
in kitchen floor
till some one moved u
to a bed

Me: omg 
:i dont remember ANY of this

Him: :i recall being amazed by  how flexible u were
as u like had ur leg like on ur head
but were dead
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Anyway, yeah.  Alcohol.  Good stuff.

If you ever have the chance - stay in a hostel.  They attract absolute fucking crackheads.  You'll love it.


_________________________________________________
Life is looking up.  Sorta, kinda, alot.  Roll on yr 2.

I work in the Tower of London.  Not permanently -just for another week or so.  I'm pretty much based on the spot where Anne Boleyn had her head cut off.  I are bar maid.  People don't tip enough, even on a Saturday night.  Even when I took off my blouse and flashed a little, I didn't get anything other than a Bill Nighy lookalike asking me out.  Next time you go out, tip.  Do it for the students who have to resort to barwork in order to pay for their next alcohol induced coma.  Doooo it.  Think of us.