Sweden has a real problem with reality shows, for example, just check out tonights' TV listings. On the state channels 1 and 2 no reality shows, so far, so good; but then we turn our attention to channels 3, 4 and 5. Remember, this is just one night. Lets plunge in at the deep end shall we? - Channel 3, has Club Goa (pointless shite), Fame Factory (more pointless shite), and Top Model Sverige (Sweden) (totally pointless mind numbing coma inducing shite), followed by The Swan (utterly banal, shallow smegridden facile shite), which is then followed by Club Goa (PS). So, it is possible to watch nothing but reality shows - on one channel - from 1830 until 0000. If you get bored of watching these (and really, how could that be possible) you can always turn your attention to channel 4 (Paradise Hotel) or channel 5 which has for your viewing delights both Big Brother but also, Amish in the City - you could not make it up.
The Swedes actually invented Bog Brother, so it really is all their fault. Curious as to the sheer number of reality shows I surfed around a little and found a huge amount of nasty natty websites devoted to reality shows - hideous, so much so that I can't be arsed to contaminate my blog.

As Bill Hicks said 'rid the world of all these fevered egos which are tainting our collective unconsciousness making us pay a higher psychic price.'

The kitchen is being taken apart as I blog, the work surface being torn up and a new one being put in place, all part of our masterplan to sell the flat fast - at some point.

Annoyance: spending over 100 kronor on pass port photographs. It all started with my first set of photographs being hurriedly plunged into my bag whilst running for the bus, after they been
taken in the booth in the local shop. Shortly afterwards I inspected them and found a smudged set of photographs with bits of dust and hair stuck to them. So 40 crowns down the drain. Second set, faired better and managed to survive the trip home. But on checking the passport documents I noticed that the UK passport requires colour and full frontal (some kind of fnarr fnarr comment required there, I think) whereas the Swedish machines give Black and White and suggest one ear exposed. So another 40 crowns down the drain with the developing solution. Final set, down to the railway station and managed to fill the machine with 30 crowns before realising that I had no change left. In the quest to find the remainder the bastard machine ate my the money I'd left in it. Rats cocks. 140 kronor for 4 poxy passport photographs. Arse.
Coming up: Incoherent droolings on the fact that we're all living in a simulation. Read more here.
Recent Books: The Coma, Alex Garland (not bad, some good stuff but nothing really new), Black Holes, Wormholes and Time Machines by Jim Al-Khalili (fucking great).
Music: Bill Hicks, Rant in E Minor. (Inspired by the above quote)

and erm, oh yeah, we're all living in a simulation.