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About Stockholm

Little known fact—back in Victorian days, prossies had secret codes, tappin’ on windows to signal punters. Clever sods! Made me chuffed—history’s wild, innit? Anyway, I’m chattin’ her up, she’s laughin’—got a gob like a sailor, swearin’ worse than me after a scotch too many. Made me angry tho, some twat kept buttin’ in, tryin’ to nick her off me—like, mate, sod off, I ain’t sharin’!

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Anyway, I keep walking. I pass by the Göta Canal. It’s so pretty, like a postcard or something. The boats are all lined up, and I’m just standing there, soaking it all in. Then, outta nowhere, this kid on a bike zooms past me and nearly knocks me over. I’m like, “Dude, chill! It’s not a race!”