“ME NAME LOUIS AS WELL MON!”

15 04 2009

While the sweeds que out the door to pound wackdonalds this dudes smokin blunts and  selling pastys to drunks.

he didnt have any ting, just “bashment” sauce, three hands and his cutchie.he sits in his shed all night pumping out bounty killa and sizzla to fight off the swedish winds.the grape drink was appealing but there were no chicken and waffles to go with it so I setlled for the ginger ale
unfortunatly me being a baldhead pussieclot, jah is not within and the jamican fire ale wasn’t enough, so i had to reachfor the 7/11 calzone for warmth.
calzone

Go one then, Go on then

swedish 7/11 is amazing, like being transported to america, I dont even remeber what this tasted of but it was hot and sobering, god knows how much this cost.

mystery filing

mystery filling

they also had sweets named after faeces

bare lolz

bare lolz





swedish offy

9 01 2009

Swedish offys are mental. basically if you beers over 3.5% you cant get it sold in Swedish sids shop or Ron “svenska” Balmoral’s, oh no. If your not american you know that light beer don’t count, you want that good ish, the 5% beloved of the lcl, vyborg and damager faithful. this means only one thing in sweden. system diatech. in Sweden system diatech isn’t a bike part its much more my friend. in reality its called Systembolaget but i can never remember that. The state controls all sales of alcohol over 3.5% and their pretty serious about it too, they hold them up in a massive offy that is the diatech. we couldn’t find the little diatech in our neighborhood so we headed into the diatech hive, in the middle of stockholm, we weren’t prepared for what awaited us.
diatech
inside it was fucking crazy, it was how I imagined the evacuation panics from independence day and the day after tomorrow if they’d both been based in Glasgow, empty creates everywhere, barely any sprits left on the shelves, families franticly searching in the empty piles of crates for that last bottle of brown ale (no shit). before we’d joined the Q i managed to restrain the urge to grab random cans, however once stuck in the Q cabin fever set in, what if i could walk before i left the house? what if i had to pay 5 quid for a pint in the bars? what if i never got to taste that beer with a polar bear on the can? luckily for me we got stuck queuing in the “STRANG” section aka swedish special brew and tramps paradise.

Shopping basket before the Q

Shopping basket after the Q

not only do they check everyones id at the tills they log how many cans you’ve got, how many bottles and exactly what you bought into the till, the whole place is patrolled by the “kings guard”, which look like stock polis in red ski suits. it took us about half an hour to get served and by then the q’s were out the door. i think the idea behind it is to make binge drinking harder but this kind of defeats the point when evry drink comes in 3.5%, 5% and 7.5% versions, you can even get a special brew strength kopperberg! shits ill!

overall system diatech rules, it encourages panic buying and hysteria in one of Europe’s most restrained peoples, id love to see the government try that over here, they’d be panic in the streets. generally the beer in sweden is wack ask fuck, bland at best but i was nicely surprised by my selections.
first up was the FALCON
this was selected as it looked a bit like it was from Scottish & Newcatsle breweries, most of the local beers didnt look sweedish enough so i just went for random factors. pretty much all were above 5.2% which was good enough for me. basicly the falcon was pretty wack, probably the worst beer id tasted since Ali Webb gave me a warm bottle of out of date fosters ice to wash down a burger his dad had bbq’d and was still frozen in the middle on bonfire night 1998. watery, smelt faintly of piss no real taste but still makes you feel slightly sick, all in all a perfect S&N clone! well done lads.

The swedish like royalty, they still have a royal family that behaves itself unlike our lot who might aswell be from Haltwhistle and in honor of the swedish royals i chose the next 2 cans of piss

both actually stood their ground well, i could see harry necking a few KUNG on his way to get some blood diamonds with his future in-laws, or engaging in some casual racism (grandpa would be proud harry) but i doubt the Swedish royals would go for them. BlaGul was the weaker of the 2, id liken it to bud or some other student fodder.

after tasting the piss i needed something to put (more) hairs on my chest, arbargograra was the perfect choice, dark old germanic graphics, 7.3% and the words DRAK and STRANG on the can, which i assume mean strong and dark.

how did it taste?

FUCKING RANK just what i needed.


this was the best of the bunch, hint of special brew but easy to neck, like a dark LCL. polar bears and tennis reference are plus (was he a tennis player? or was he in abba? who knows?). either way i drank it in my boxer shorts and a white thermal vest in tribute.

this beauty was selected as it looked like it was a pack of davidoff tabs. this was a sophisticated look i planned to rock on the street to let the Swedes know i was as cultured and european as them. this was undone by the 7/11 calzone i insisted on buying but more on that later. it was a smooth and creamy larger, much like the tab it lovingly resembles. i give them titties three thumbs up.

last but not least was the ladys choice CID. cunningly aimed at internet youth with a winky face thingy intergrated into its name, we assumed this was stock cider, turns out not

shit was berry cider, basically wkd but with out all the chemicals. illsick.
over all swedish beer is pretty shit, but they have more fun buying it, more fun drinking it and a better health service for when you liver packs up so id say they win.