I just spelled Sweden incorrectly three different times, Sewden, Seeden and Sewdeen, which are all fine countries in their own right (although Sewdeen’s human rights record is troubling) but we’re still in Sweden, today we’re at the KB. We played Stockholm last night at Gota Kallare which loosely translates to “no internet, fuck you”, it shouldn’t have been surprising as the club is located in a sub-sub basement under a Pizza Hut (No free pizza, don’t ask). When I first started doing this, it was a big deal to mail a letter with the intercontinental-underwater pony express (oddly enough no ponies drowned while underwater but the mail was too soggy to read), what I’m trying to say (GET TO THE POINT ASSHOLE!) is that you goddamn kids don’t know what it was like back when touring involved oxcarts, and these generational landmines (interweb? running water? shoes?) are troubling to the more feeble minded among us (ok, me). Don’t forget, if you can’t brush your teeth after every meal at least comb your hair…. Oh yes, Bob wanted me to mention his dimple. Consider it done, now pay me.