Stockholm gave me all I’ve asked for and a hell of a lot more. Since Thrusday I’ve lived the ultimate heterosexual family life with Man, Kid, Spagetthi Carbonara and Turtles. I play the role of the perfect housewife while J’s at work and clean the flat from toys and diapers in my dirty 90’s dressing gown, watch some porn and write dirty messages to my lovers. When J comes home again he sits in front of his computer all night while I smoke indoors, trying to look like some depressed version of random charachter in Desperate Housewives. Then we eat cheese sandwiches and go to sleep in our seperate bedrooms. He’s snoring like old grandpa and I masturbate under the quilt until I finally fall asleep.
The only thing that makes this heterosexual family incomplete is that J is more of a gangster than a white heterosexual man and I’m more like a kid than a woman and J and me are not really a couple (even though we once were) and I will always get to drunk to be a responsible parent.
So the weekend came and I left my new cute family at home and got wasted at Farbiken. Found a funky fly blog fan from Gotheborg, lost all my friends and forgot that it probably wasn’t a good idea to come home like a yelling crack moma to the sleeping man and the kid.
And then it was Saturday and time for Big BIG Party again and I was the definition of Hangover but too excited to remeber that for more than 5 minutes so it was hey hey Champange and hey hey love, food, dance, 50 cent and party til’ 5 in the morning.
Now I’ve slept the whole day and if I hadn’t have a three year old kid to play and watch ”Sunes Sommar” with yesterday I’m pretty sure I’ve had died.
