What a weekend! I was livin' it up. I only have 20 minutes before we go get dinner so I'm going to type this as fast as I can. I'll proofread it later so keep your snotty comments to yourselves. Friday night, I went to Etage, this club that is in the big square in town. I heard from some people that it was pretty cool. They were open from 23-5. So I showed up around 11 because I wasn't quite certain how long it would take me to get there and I figured that with the club opening so late everyone would be lined around the block clawing to get in. WRONG. I was like the first person there.

So I sat and had a few beers by myself waiting for everyone to show up. All the clubs here have random gambling tables all around. Like you'll be going down the hall towards the bathroom and its like BAM BLACKJACK! It was very strange but a few people seemed to really enjoy themselves. I stayed away because I have a gambling problem -- my problem being that I suck at it. So there I am at the bar drinking Falcon after Falcon just waiting for somebody to talk to me. When it became evident nobody would, despite my magickal buttefly shirt, I started trying to mingle.

Yeah, people weren't really having it so when this Asian girl winked at me I was like eh, whatthefuck, I'll go talk to her. So I am sitting there with all these chicks from Thailand and I can barely understand a word they're saying. And they drag me out on the dance floor. I definitely did a little pole dancing with this chick up on stage. Tres fun. Then we sit back down at the table to drink some more and she shows me her passport. Specifically, she is pointing at the part that says MR. So I hung out all night with a Thai transsexual and had a really good time. I drank way too much, though, so as I was stumbling home, I see McDonalds like a beacon in the night. I mosdef stopped in at 5am to have a hamburger. I was so drunk I could barely get the words "Bic Mag" out.

I sure did pay for it the next day. One of the worst hangovers I've ever had. I didn't get out of bed until about 4. Then I went for a nice walk and got a nice dinner by myself. It was probably good that I stayed in bed so late because I had many adventures to await me. There aren't really any gay clubs here but there are clubs that have gay nights. And the big one, from what I could gather, was this party called Wonk every Saturday night at Deep. Deep is just a stone's throw from my hotel. But this time I've wised up, and I don't even venture out until 12:30. Surely I won't be the first person there. WRONG! I was the first person there. So I'm standing there alone drinking my beer when this old guy comes and talks to me. Meh, whatever, used to it.

Then the hottest guy I have ever seen walks in and I vowed to myself that I wouldn't leave until I got him. But I've got this elderly baggage, so I'm a little stuck. I tried to tire hime out on the dance floor but he just wouldn't get the hint. And he danced like an old guy. One weird thing they do is hand out candy at clubs. Like a dude with this shirt off comes around with a tray of gummi candies and everyone grabs a handful. So weird. But they had dropped a whole tray right on the dance floor so my shoes are super sticky. Anyway, eventually the old guy tires out and leaves around 3am. This is when I decide to venture up to the karaoke room because I'd watched a little earlier and it was cracking me up.

Wouldn't you know it, the hottest guy ever is sitting on this ottoman watching the show, so I go plop down next to him. I was laughing my ass off because these four girls kept singing a song and the chorus was something "SLUT." And they just keep yelling "SLUT." It was pronounced [sloot] but still funny to me. So I lean over to the hottest guy ever and say, "I have no idea what they're saying but I sure do think its funny." And his eyes lit up and he was like "Where are you from?!" He's one of the first Swedes to give a fuck where I'm from. They're all very unimpressed. So now I've scored 10,000 points for being an American and we're getting along just swimmingly. We're talking and laughing and clappin. I tried to sing along and sound out the words and he thought that was pretty funny. Well... I guess we were having too much fun at other people's expense because the next thing I know, I have a finger pointed at me.

That finger is attached to the biggest person I have ever seen. This is a 7'6" stacked drag queen named Wonk (the namesake of the party) with blonde hair down past her butt ... and she is motioning me on stage. So the hottest guy ever (henceforth to be refered to by his name Rickard -- the k's here do weird things, so it's actually pronounced just like Richard) kind of shoves me up there and I oblige. She says a whole bunch in Swedish and then sticks the microphone in my face and I say, "Uhhhhh ... well, this is my first time to Malmo but it's a lovely city, everyone's just been great." And everyone kinda cheers and she says, "What is your name and where are you from?"

"Okay David from America, I know what you sing. You sing it now. I hope you know it." And I'm like uhhhhh, so do I. Next thing you know, the intro to Don McLean's "American Pie" is on and I start singing it. I'm a little shaky at first but once I found the key I started belting it. I mean belting it. And I knew all the words so I didn't have to stare at the screen, so then I start working the crowd a little. Mind you, it is now like 3:30am and I am a little intoxicated. And I get everyone singin along and I'm singin my little heart out. You all know how much I hate to toot my own horn, but I was pretty good ... probably Grammy quality. So now Rickard is doubly impressed.

Then we go downstairs and talk a while. I bought us some cigarettes out of a machine but I'd never heard of any of them so I just guessed. I ended up guessing his favorite cigarettes so now he's triply impressed. They were called Prince and I told him I'd never had a Prince before. He replied, "You've got one tonight." Zing! Double entendres in a second language, kudos to him!

Then the club started playing slow music. Slow dancing at a gay club? Who woulda thunk. As we were slow dancing which was way too fun, this guy just barrels right through us. And I yell, "HEJ!" and Rickard shoves him, and then he turns around and shoves me. The majority of my bloodstream at this point consists of ethanol and testosterone, so I'm like ready to go. Luckily the Swedes are a peace loving people but I don't think Rickard missed the fact that I'd jumped up to protect him. Can we say quadrupily impressed? Probably like dodechedrimpressed.

The club let out at 5, and Rickard walked me back to my hotel. It was only a block but still a very nice gesture. Yadda yadda yadda, it was a fabulous weekend and I almost wish I could be here another weekend. Stupid me I didn't get his phone number or anything, so I guess that's the last time I'll see him. Oh well, it was worth it.

That's all for now, more anecdotal shit and stories about the douchebag another time. Just had to get that out for your pleasure and my journal. Peace, my sluts!