Arrival: Stockholm

Somehow Scandinavians manage to be sexually uninhibited and boring at the same time. I pondered this acutely modern paradox as I walked with the Mayor of Sweden, up Apelbersgatain (all streets in Sweden have ridiculous names), along Slojdgatan, and down Mallmskillnadsgatan (a part of her city the Mayor seemed particularly proud of).

Eventually she took me to a zoo, where together we observed various sorry creatures in cages, despondent from being so far from home. The Mayor told me that when one of the zoo’s animals dies, instead of purchasing a new one the zoo policy now is to hire a Muslim immigrant and have him dress up in costume as the deceased animal. This helps the zoo stay under budget and it is hoped that if they are kept busy the muslim immigrants will stab fewer people.

“Sweden is very tolerant of its Muslim immigrants”, the mayor tells me (though she can’t tell me why). “We are also very tolerant of the gays.” If that’s the case, I reply, then why don’t you build your homosexualists a monorail (or, as I call it, a ‘manorail’)? And I explain the concept to her. The mayor seems intrigued.

Later in the evening at a nightclub I meet a very open minded Swedish couple. They take me to their home, where the very open minded Swedish man allows me to have my way with his wife. I’m impressed by the home’s modernist furnishings, but disappointed the couple's teenaged daughter is away on a holiday of some sort.


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