Sweetpie

Time, as usual, is a luxury, so I will let some pictures do the talking today.

Some cherry trees bloom stranger than others. I kind of liked this down, down in Kungsträdgården. The pic was taken either on cherry blossom day (last Saturday) or the young turks (probably not Young Turks, though) day (last Sunday), I cannot remember.

Horst (also known as "the harmonica man") was doing some very, very rude gestures and screaming at the top of his lungs at Stureplan a few days ago. Usually he just plays the harmonica at the top of his lungs. The police, apparently miffed by this sudden change in behaviour, confiscated both Horst and his IKEA bag of belongings. He recently tried to sell me a kickbike for €2, and when I declined he biked away. One hand on the bike and one on the harmonica, playing at the top of his lungs.

I bought "sweetpie" at Café Madeleine. It was just as sweet as advertised.

Now, this is what I call street art!

Nothing is sacred, they changed the Guinness can!

I guess that my apprehension is probably a bit unjustified, as the can was likely changed no more than a few years ago because a new marketing executive wanted to leave an impression.

And now, after some Rotari and Timmermans Kriek, it is time for me to sleep, perchance to dream.