We're in Tom's kitchen — recently moved to central Stockholm — discussing dick sizes, when Hal suggests I should write a book about this. About us — the boys — and what we do. I'm not sure if he really means it, or if it's the alcohol doing the talking. But then Art agrees. "Yeah, robin, you should write a book about this. About all of this. So that people will now."
    Hell. He's drunk too. Just a few minutes ago he was bragging about a 15 cm long dick, and Hal was asking me about my dick size. I felt uncomfortable, thinking, hell guys, why you're suddenly all so interested in how a big dick I have? "Well, does it fit in your both hands, like this?" He gestures. But Tom enters and the discussion changes.
    Why are we three sitting alone in the kitchen when there's a party going on out there? And why the hell aren't we drinking anything? It's an unwritten law in Tom's kitchen — if you're there, you drink. So we do.

Chris had just returned from London and was walking around the flat pulling marijuana jokes. "Don't walk on the grass — use it. He even had this small key-ring formed as a cannabis leaf in red-yellow-green.
    I'm not quite sure what he did in London — I thought he was going to get engaged to be married (in a year), but apparently there were more interesting things to do than just getting engaged, in London. Though I don't know why you need to go to London to get some pro-cannabis accessories. There are plenty of them here in Stockholm. Perhaps the British dope-wit is better than our.

We do this a lot — sitting in Tom's kitchen, boozing and smoking. Some of us to extreme levels, others more controlled. I'm not quite sure why we do this, I just know we do. Perhaps this is some extreme way of getting chicks or something. I don't know; it must be some kind of natural law involved.
    Sometimes it feels like we've always done this; just because we do it so often.

I think I'm beginning to understand why alcoholics are so gloomy, or why depressed people sometimes drink. Too much. But I'm not sure which comes first — the depression or the liquor. I think you can get there both ways, if you aren't careful. All the time.
    People are more honest when drinking. We boys are. It sometimes comes as a shock. If you're sober and listen to some of the conversations... At least when you're sober you have some wit to put to the more depressing stuff. The alcohol drains that.

A couple of weeks ago Hal and Art got arrested, just outside the kitchen window. Car-theft. But they were only remand in custody till later the same morning.
    Another time the boys ate all Tom's food which pissed Tom off quite royally, and with all right. Still another time a girl asked me if I'd like to fuck her, just like that. "Just wondering, are you gay?" her girl friend wondered, when I declined the offer.