A Scandinavian tale
As I’m sure you all know I’m a very well travelled and learned kind of person. I’ve lived here and there but not everywhere because that would be fucking impossible. And there are places I wouldn’t live such as Sierra Leone, Albuquerque, any small town in central America and Balbriggan. However, I’m pretty much open to the rest of the world.
Not so long ago I had a great idea for a book which I was convinced publishers would go for. Without even attempting to run it past anyone, so convinced was I of the worthiness of this project, I took myself off to Sweden where the book would be based. I won’t go too much into the story in case I run out of ideas for my current book and I have to revert to this dusty old manuscript (Sssssh, don’t tell Hodder) but it was basically a buddy story involving novellist Henning Mankell, former Arsenal player Anders Limpar, Ingmar Bergman and Agnetha Fältskog from Abba.
The idea was that each of them received a fancy invitation to a party but when they arrived at the party location each person was called into a dark room where a mysterious voice reminded them of a dark and possibly disgusting secret from their lives. They were told they had 14 days in which to get the northern mining town of Malmberget at which point they would receive further instructions.
They could only travel in an unreliable VW camper van which, because it was quite unreliable, broke down a lot. Each person knew every other person had a secret and as the journey progressed relationships grew and they tried to discover what was what. The differences in characters made for some comic moments. For example, Bergman was really quite shy but he took a real shine to Agnetha but Anders Limpar being a practical joker dressed up in her clothes and it was only when the film director felt the unusually stubbly chin that he realised he was French kissing the footballer. Then there was Henning Mankell arguing with Limpar about whether or not Bjorn Borg could have beaten Ivan Lendl in a game of Trivial Pursuits with the novellist going so far as to say Borg could have beaten Jesus at arm-wrestling.
As these things do it was to end in tragedy but I can’t tell you how or why or when. You’ll just have to wait until the book comes out and you can learn their secrets and the lengths each one of them would go to protect it.
Anyway, I felt Sweden would be the natural place to write the book. It’s people, landscapes and cold weather would inspire me, I thought. I stayed in Stockholm for a while then went down to Malmo before settling in a small town called Osby back up the way a bit. I figured the slightly warmer climes there would be better for me as I took some time to recover from frostbite of the mickey when I took a piss outside at 3am on my way home from a bar. My piss was frozen in mid-air and my helmet went blue. Not much fun, let me tell you.
Anyway, in Osby I found myself working brilliantly. With nothing much to distract me I made the initial notes for my book and then spent the next three months writing it out long hand with pencils. I was very aware of keeping back ups so I used carbon paper. I didn’t want it to be a case that there was only one copy in case something went wrong. After proof reading and correcting it was time to type it out on my trusty old typewriter.
I went into the town to buy some typing paper and bought two packets at the local stationary shop. When I took it home though there was something a bit funny about it. The paper had a really, really odd smell and the ink from the typewriter didn’t seem to stick. I went to another shop and bought some more paper but it was the same. Another shop – the same. At this point I was at my wits end. Even though lots of people in Sweden have good English I seemed to be in the only town where they spoke English like the chef from muppets. I didn’t know what to do.
I decided to take a walk to try and clear my head when who should I run into but Annie Lennox. I nearly jumped for joy. Everyone knows a drunk Scottish person speaking English sounds exactly the same as fluent Swedish so she could help me. I ran over to her and explained what was going on, about my book and the problems I was having with the strange, almost sticky, smelly paper.
“Ach, don’t worry about that. Everyone knows”, she said, “that Swede reams are made of cheese.”
May 1st, 2007 at 12:08 am
That was a turnip for the book
May 1st, 2007 at 3:39 am
Fuck that was boring. Didn’t you get bored typing that shite? It takes longer to type than read. I’d have killed myself before I got halffuckinway through typing that.
May 1st, 2007 at 5:30 am
a hod’s as good as a sink to a blind norse
May 1st, 2007 at 7:59 am
I’d have killed myself before I got halffuckinway through typing that.
Don’t stop on my behalf.
May 1st, 2007 at 9:12 am
‘Oh la la la la la la la, laaaaaaa la, laaa lalalalala,no one on earth could feel like this…’
Right now I’m feeling peckish so I’m sure lot’s of folk feel it actually.
May 1st, 2007 at 9:18 am
I’m simultaneously puking my guts and laughing out loud – that’s a new one for me…!
May 1st, 2007 at 9:26 am
I didn’t think anyting could make me hate that song anymore than I already do. I was wrong! Funny.
May 1st, 2007 at 9:57 am
Its May day and i have no work which is a good thing .But talking like annie Lennox which I am now is a bad thing.
May 1st, 2007 at 10:16 am
It just o-curd to me that there are whey funnier jokes but you probably don’t give….. wait for it…. edam.
PowwWWWWW!!! (I’m sooooo sorry).
May 1st, 2007 at 11:04 am
Annie Lennox is a great flute player and she has played with Bergman’s Magic Flute many times,..Would I Lie To You..Twenty? if I did you would probally set The Dogs Of Riga,..on me,or I’d get Side Tracked and end up One Step Behind….
Sven vill you be famous Sventy???
May 1st, 2007 at 11:27 am
‘Laughing Cow’…now theres a decent cheese if I ever had one. Does anyone know that song about a ‘Cheese Cutter’?
May 1st, 2007 at 11:42 am
You mean like Billy Joel… “Cheese Always A Woman To Me”?
Or “Could This Brie Love” by some other guy?
May 1st, 2007 at 11:44 am
No… It’s the one by the Beatles I think, called ‘Cheese Cutter Ticket To Ride’.
May 1st, 2007 at 12:37 pm
I will not be drawn into a day of cheese puns. Now, if you’ll excuse me I have a meeting with former England keeper Peter Stilton.
May 1st, 2007 at 12:43 pm
I’m not sure I know which one Annie Lennox is. Is she the really fat one in a mumu, with a deep voice who sang “moonlight shadow?”. Who is that one then if she is not Annie Lennox, is she Dana? or the American one? Christ, I wish these old hags would fuck off when they have finished with being famous. I can’t tell them apart, the tedious old whores.
May 1st, 2007 at 12:45 pm
http://imagecache2.allposters.com/images/pic/MMPH/262280~Annie-Lennox-Posters.jpg
That’s Annie Lennox.
May 1st, 2007 at 12:46 pm
Twenty, Myles na gCopaleen’s representative here on earth. Keats and Chapman couldn’t have done any better. A feckin hoot.
May 1st, 2007 at 12:53 pm
Cheesus Christ Twenty.
May 1st, 2007 at 12:53 pm
Oh, I thought it might Nat King Cole(slaw) singing “Emmenthal We Say Goodbye”.
May 1st, 2007 at 12:53 pm
Twenty, Could you not have fet a sven goran erikkson in here somewhere
May 1st, 2007 at 1:01 pm
Twenty I Gouda stop reading your blog..too funny.I just don’t know how to quit you.
May 1st, 2007 at 1:49 pm
Chevre ones going on just a little bit too much. Now if you’ll excuse me, Ricotta go back to work.
Harrumph…over and out.
May 1st, 2007 at 2:01 pm
Can not believe I got caught out again – thought I had learnt my lesson, you Gouda fooled me anytime.
May 1st, 2007 at 3:35 pm
Jävla fitta, as they say in Sweden
May 1st, 2007 at 4:03 pm
You’re Emmental you are!
May 1st, 2007 at 4:30 pm
No distractions in Sweden? Sweden is one the most visually distracting places I’ve ever been.
Every second female is a fit blonde.
Still, if you’re in a dingy, dark room grafting over words, pointing pencils and fucking about with a typewriter you don’t get to see much of that.
It’s a tough solitary life, that of a writer, Twenty.
Keep it up. You’re doing greeeeeeeeeat!
May 1st, 2007 at 4:34 pm
“If Jarlsberg ran a blog it would be like this one.”
May 1st, 2007 at 4:39 pm
I actually once met Annie Lennox in Sweden, but because it didn’t actually happen, I cannot remember any of the details…
May 1st, 2007 at 5:09 pm
i think this book deal will finnish twenty. there’s norway he can keep this up.
May 1st, 2007 at 5:10 pm
maybe he should have gone to viking direct for paper instead
May 1st, 2007 at 6:11 pm
Northsider in Dominoes orders a large Supremo.
“Parmesham ?” the lad behind the counter goes.
“Parmesham wha’, I said nothing. Are you startin?”
Nobody got stabbed or nothing.
True story. Or wait, I think the guy behind the counter got stabbed alright.
May 1st, 2007 at 10:09 pm
Seek help now, Twenty.
Before it’s too late.
May 2nd, 2007 at 12:43 am
keep the faith. my dreams are somewaht similar – stuck in snowy sweden, like paul ? (james caan’s chracter in “misery”) lost in a snow drift and discovered by ulrika johnnson’s twin un-fucking-believably hot sister…..blow jobs, broken ankles and a new novel…all in 3 weeks. ummmhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, ulrika-kakakakaka…1996 version, not 2006!! am i turning you on?
May 2nd, 2007 at 8:28 am
Twenty, you have excelled even yourself. Goodness yes.
May 3rd, 2007 at 12:05 am
Hey Twenty
what’s wrong with Balbriggan? ever been there? know the locals (the real locals, not the blowins)?
Marty
May 3rd, 2007 at 12:10 am
I had a very bad experience there one time, Marty.
May 3rd, 2007 at 1:31 pm
Can someone please put him out of his misery??
May 4th, 2007 at 6:47 pm
Sorry to hear that twenty, dont let it put u off. lot a nice people down here, all related to each other (incest was rife until we all got the telly!).