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> blog post Jag är hemma

Jag är hemma
Wed, 02 Feb 2005 13:20:14

So here i am in Sweden, in the house of the devil-dog. Sprakkel is her name and as i came in, she had just eaten a little girl, as you can well see.

[Imagine here a picture of a devil-lookalike dog, which has since gone missing. The picture I mean.]

Got here quite easily, if it wasnt for the customs guy at the airport. I had with me 30 kilo's of stuff to help me survive in Sweden, ten of which were hand luggage. Of that ten, ten kilo's were electronica/mechanical.

I don't know why but the customs saw this as enough reason to assume i was mad enough to blow up the plane. Their focus of attention was a little round object hidden in a sock. You could easily imagine it lying snugly in the palm of a terrorist's hand just before he pulled the plug.

The customs guy didn't chance a premature blowup and slowly pulled the sock over the round thing... oops, wrong way. Now the ball slowly swung from left to right at the toe end of the sock while the customs guy held it at the top. he pulled the sock up inch by inch. His eye very much on the ball.

I thought this situation was a bit rediculous so i told him that it in fact was not a bomb, but a powerball. "That's a ball with an internal gyroscope which can spin really fast in your hand", i added. But i doubt words like gyroscope were really gonna calm him down.

At this point i got a bit paranoid myself, thinking when on earth the terrorists had the chance to switch my powerball for that bomb, or was it a pound of cocain?

No it was a powerball, pfiewww. And it said so in really big letters on the thing. This seemed to normalise the whole situation, even though he didnt have a clue what it was. Could very well be a bomb, but big letters seem to calm people down.

I decided to show my new buddy how it worked so he could really be sure and so i could divert his attention from my harddrive with a lot of illegal mp3's. I'm paranoid, i know. But in my nervousness i couldn't get the damn thing working, which disappointed me and him and my failure seemed to chill our blooming friendship.

So i got on the plane. I struck another blooming friendship with a manager who was gonna show off the fascinating new internal internet based fincance system for his underwater-research firm. All very nice, but he was gone quite rapidly when he pulled his bag from the luggage-belt.

A well.., it was a great day for friendships! And i wasnt arrested. And now i will start a little burning-on-demand music shop in Sweden.



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