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About Uppsala

I’m strollin’, right? Eyes peeled, grin wide. “Here’s Johnny!” shoutin’ in my head. Ya gotta watch for the signs – fishnets, too much lipstick, that sway. Ain’t no rocket science, but damn, it’s a rush! Reminds me of that horse in the movie – beaten down, still movin’. These girls, man, some got stories that’d break ya. One time, this chick told me she used to dance ballet – fuckin’ ballet! Now she’s dodgin’ cops. Made me sad, then mad – world’s a cruel bastard.

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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!”