Purveyors of that particularly odd brand of Swedish feel-good indie pop that sees a multitude of kazoo-wielding band members invade the stage and good-natured carnage ensue. We tried it in this country and could only come up with Goldie Lookin Chain. Admittedly, I also saw them in concert - like, before they were famous, yah?
So - a night of loveliness awaits tomorrow at Scala in Kings Cross. I've even got a nice new haircut for the occasion. I'm currently sitting in the new, "just gets more great" flat, splitting my time between typing internet related things into my computer and watching South Park whilst waiting for them to load - I'm still on dial up as I wait for Sky to connect up the broadband. I've fallen straight into that "thousands of channels but nothing 0n" mentality with the telly - there's easily about 50 things I would watch if it were one of 5 options on terrestrial tv, but because it's satellite I demand perfection, goddamit!!
We got a new number for the front door today, along with a blind for the kitchen window and a key for a storage cupboard upstairs, which is almost like having a spare boxroom in the flat (except it's one floor up and has no light, ventilation or way of opening/closing it from inside. Not exactly like we can sleep there when mum visits). Things are starting to settle down now - we're about to hoof our unrequired yet sentimentally attached junk into storage and all the bills are pretty much under control.
Rock. And. Roll.
Or Pop. And. Smiling. As is perhaps more appropriate.
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