Lindahl's World

Scandinavians exposed

I first met Lindahl, or rather saw him as he walked across the grass on his hands. Due to his less than sober state he was also walking on his feet. The fact that his head was horizontal, provided him with a somewhat unusual perspective of the world, but then his education in Sweden had no doubt also contributed to his bizarre perspective of "abroad".

The sorry tale of a group of Scandinavians on a cheapie package deal to Gran Canaria including an interesting take on the Battle of Poltava and troglodyte habitations.

Sample chapter

For some reason the conversation turns (quickly) to history. It seems almost the only subject of interest, although his idea of what constitutes “history” might seem a trifle distorted. Carl XII died during the battle when he was shot through the head. Lindahl reckons this is unfair as otherwise they would have won.

I ask him what is unfair about being shot by the enemy in battle and dying as a result

Lindahl is not sure but that’s what he has been told.

He has also been told that Sweden has the worlds second biggest special forces and that they are bloody good soldiers as they came second after Israel in the combined military skills competition

I point out that having a couple of good snipers and skiers does not make for a world beating army, but admit I am impressed that the Israelis did so well at the skiing, but then they do take their military skills seriously.

Lindahl says yes, but they are bloody Jews, which ranks them somewhat below the Swedish master race

I point out that Israel has won every war since 1945 although concede that they are losing the peace. This I add is somewhat more impressive than Sweden’s recent military record which comprises allowing the nazis to march unimpeded across Sweden to attack Norway.

Lindahl sulks.

Isn’t it time to go out and meet your date Jimmy boy suggests as a peace offering

Or on the piss adds Kenny, getting in to the swing of things

You can almost hear the cogs meshing in Lindahl’s brain. Sex. Booze and...Violence. For some inexplicable reason Lindahl’s adrenalin excess can be most pleasurably expended on getting into a fight, preferably with some bloody foreigner and ideally with a svart kalle.

It does not take long

There are plenty of them hanging around the streets selling fake everything...price related to wealth (the ultimate Marxist ideology)

And Lindahl simply allows one to approach him as he walks towards the shopping centre

Want a watch?

Fuck off jungle bunny, quips Lindahl

Wham goes the black guys fist in his eye

Lindahl seems to enjoy this and rushes after us to show off the swelling eyebrow

Silly bugger Lindahl why do you have to get into a fight on holiday

Badge of glory

Next night similar conversation similar conclusion: Sweden is not the place to fight for Lindahl loses the argument and suggests we go out on the piss.

Not again Lindahl, we know you –It’ll just end in a fight

So don’t be a silly bugger why don’t you try and get laid instead

Sensitive point this as he already lost the bet last night. Not a very smart bet to make, boasting he could beat me to it

Lindahl you silly sod says Jimmy boy, he’s married, you’re bound to lose

Not necessarily. I’m Swedish and master race always wins

Lindahl I say I bet you don’t get laid at all

Now Lindahl is very pissed but he is also very skint as he is drinking his holiday money faster than the rest of us combined

OK what’s the bet?

With all the drunken bravado of a gambler, he assumes that because he needs to win the bet, then somehow miraculously he will win it

100 kroner to you if you get laid by midnight, evens at 02:00 and 100 to me if you haven’t got lucky by 08:00.

OK, he blurts out not stopping to think that it is almost 23:00 now and in his present state he couldn’t pull a piece of wet string. In fact he is deep in conversation with my wife with the sudden inspiration that he could win the bet if she were to sleep with him instead of me

Forget it Nicklaus, she smiles sweetly, I would be more likely to spend the night with Pepe and there is absolutely no chance whatsoever of that

Eventually conceding that it was a bit of a wide shot he decides to seek her advice on chat up lines as though there were some magic formula. We go through all the old ones like that dress would look good on my bedroom floor