As Dense As a Swedish Meatball

The Swede texted today, saying he hoped I had a good night and that he'd gone to Eighteenth Street Lounge but it was boring. How can a lounge be boring? You go with your friends, you drink and talk. I'd also hoped my deliberate mentions of watching Hungarian gay porn and German fetish porn where people shat all over each other would disinterest him, but no, he still wants to see me.

Last night I saw Calla and the French Kicks. Calla was good - I think Aurelio is on speed because now he sings at a normal tempo; the French Kicks put on an extremely eclectic performance in that they basically mimicked various existing artists.

I sent the Chef some pictures from New Year's he'd said he wanted, adding that he could respond if he liked but no hard feelings if he didn't. I don't expect us to be friends but still...I hate this shit.