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About Uppsala

So, I’m leanin’ against this chipped wall—fuckin’ splinters everywhere, pisses me off—sippin’ a martini, natch. “Shaken, not stirred,” I mutter, sizin’ her up. Did ya know, back in the day, Rome’s hookers had their own guild? True story—called themselves “meretrices,” fancy as fuck. Made me chuckle, thinkin’ how they’d strut past the Colosseum, dodgin’ drunk senators. History’s wild, innit?

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So, I roll outta bed, grab my coffee (essential, right?), and head out. I’m walking down Storgatan, and it’s like the universe decided to throw a curveball. First off, I see this dude in a bright yellow jacket. Like, who wears that? But hey, it’s Sweden, right? Gotta stand out in the gray. Anyway, he’s trying to juggle. Juggling! In the middle of the street! I’m like, “Bro, you’re gonna get hit by a bike!” But he’s all in, and I can’t help but laugh.

Microsoft replaces diesels with battery system at Swedish data center