© Lifecruiser 2007 (En liten smula, Norrtälje, Sweden)

I met my Ass. through the internet through a coincidence. We just hooked up at once – of course sharing the same shitty humor helped a lot.

At that time she lived in Spain, even if she is Swedish from the beginning. She later on moved on to US – Texas, Chicago, Minnesota, New Mexico. She wouldn’t have returned from there if she could have decided that herself. Now it were decided by health issues for her daughter and later on for her self.

Butt she is a tough chick with survival insticts like an indian. Even heaven (or hell?) has refused to let her in several times already.

Since then she has been stucked in this asshole or shithole as we call it (skithÃ¥lan in Swedish) she lives in now, in a little town here in Sweden. It’s a shitty place to be exact. Normally we like small towns, but this really is a shitty place to live and especially to have health problems there.

There have been numerous rides with the ambulance, bouncing between the house doctors and the hospital and still, no real solution to the problem. They have gone through her whole body – even x-rayed the brain though I don’t know what they expected to find in there

I’ve mention the skyrocking bloodpressure for you before. Well, it seems to have gotten a bit better now anyway (after about 1 year!) even if no one have a certain clue of what it is.

This quote make me think of her, since she has an unbelievable ability to laugh in the most difficult times…

“Laugh can feel better than mark of respects, be more valuable than money, clean the sense more than anything else”. (Harriet Rochlin)

Now I’m sure she is getting better, because she is talking about leaving Sweden again! Houston, we have a problem… Where to go? Spain or US? Quite different choices.

While she is making up her mind we’re giving her some minor tip to make life funnier in the meantime…

Tip’s to make life more fun:

- Write “For sexual services” on your credit card notes.

- Ask people which sex they belong to. Laugh hysterical when they have answered.

- Roar uncontrolled every time you see a man.

- Hang mosquito net around your desk and play djungle noises all days.

- Scream when the money comes out of the banks automats: “I won! I won! For the third time in 5 minutes!”

- When you leave a Zoo run to the parking lot at the same time as you’re shouting: “Run for your lifes they have escaped!”

- When you’re out with your daughter and goes near behind some other couples, let go of some heavy farting and then turn to her and blame her for being illl-behaved so she blushes and get huffed.

- Blow up your mouth like a balloon when some one is talking to you. If they remarks your behavior, do the opposite: suck in your chins.

- Point fingers at people and hum: “nananananana”. Then immediately look in another direction. They should become worried about you.

- Make funny faces at people when they don’t see it. If you get caught, pretend that it’s itching in your nose and you’re very near to sneeze.

Now, some of these are normal behavior of her, but fun never the less…

What I especially appreciate with her friendship is that she knows how it is without I’ve to say it straight out.

She laughed her ass off when I was in the phone with her and hurting so much in my back that I hardly could crawl between the bed and the desk to answer the other phone and I giggled to not begin to cry. And then I almost cried because it hurted to giggle too much and then I had to giggle more….

She let me be her private secretary Ulla-Bella (Swedish comic) when she was in New Mexico alone in motel rooms, sick and/or in trouble during weeks, out on an impossible mission as it turned out to be later.

Funny thing is: we kind of are contagious. We get the same things. Kind of sickness heritage. Other things too. We get our periods at the same time. Even have involuntary pauses in the cycle at the same time. And we’re not even in the same places! Sometimes even without possibility to have phone contact. It’s very weird. We’re weird.

We love the same shit, meaning salt licorice, so when I sent her a package while she was in Texas, she couldn’t resist them and ate too many. Licorice is like laxative…

We have an own shitty club too. You don’t even want to know what we discuss there!

Happy Shitty Birthday x millions dear Ass.

…and may you never be out of toilet paper