The Stockholm Swinger Game!

Ladies and Gentleman, the other day I had a revelation.  Although the dating/hooking up culture lifestyle is truly a game in itself; I have decided to make said game official.   This isn't my first game I have helped create.  About a year and a half ago, one of my best friends and I had a similar, but not as rewarding, game for road trips.  

Anyways, I was inspired the other week when I found out some of the female co-eds here where I am studying in Sweden created a point system for a night (or hell, it might still be going on) depending on who you hooked up with.  I thought it was absolutely amazing when I found out (also amazing to find out I was used a little; but we all know that only excites me).  I later learned the basic rules to the points system and was tossing it around in my head whilst on a little walk.

I was thinking of what a cool idea this was and going through the various ways they had set up to earn points.  However, this also got my pondering on variations.  In their game, the points basically are based on looks and/or if the person was in a relationship, etc.  But there's more challenges than that.  I mean, think of the different obstacles you could face in a normal night on the prowl?  I've gone through several scenarios in my mind on how to making this rating system and what not, and knowing me, I'll later think of some more to add, thus making the game more extravagant.  But as for now, let's get into... 

The Stockholm Swinger (a game not suitable for children.)

Basic Points:

1 point - hook up with a less-than-attractive person.

2 points - hook up with an average looking person.

3 points - hook up with a fairly attractive person.

4 points - hook up with a hot person.

5 points - hook up with someone who is so hot, this shouldn't have been possible.

Add-Ons: 

+2 points - go to second base.

+3 points - go to third base.

+5 points - if you make the sexin'.

+7 points - if some crazy sex stuff goes on (fetishes, filmed, anal, etc.)

+1 point - for any more than 3 people in one night.

+1 point - if you hooked up with best friends.

+2 points - if people you hooked up with are related.

+2 points - if you don't know their name/they don't know your name.

+3 points - if they don't speak your language.

+8 points - if you're a girl and you kiss another girl.

+10 points - if you're a guy and you kiss another guy.

(only +5 points - if you are bisexual, either gender.)

+7 points - if you hook up with someone of the opposite gender who is homosexual. (and vice versa)

Well that's all I have for now, please feel free to offer some suggestions, as I will be thinking of some on my own as well.

So go out there and get playing!

Kicked Out

So, I can say in all honestly, i have never been been kicked out of any bar, pub, or club in my life... 

...up until tonight.

The worst part is, i have no reason to have been evicted from the place I was at.  To prove my point; this is the first SSC entry I have done on the same night as the story goes.

So it was one of our exchange students here in Sweden friend's birthday.  Which to me means, celebrate not only at the party, but as we know at the "pre-pre-party".  So I showed up a bit "decent" to the b-day party.  This was about the time for us to ride our bikes across town to the pub/club we were going to visit.  I immediately get there and order a drink; since the bike ride had temporarily killed my buzz.  We all started dancing and having a wonderful time switching off between the dance floor downstairs and the traditional pub atmosphere of the upstairs area.  

At one point of me heading downstairs again to dance the night away I go to order a drink.  

Apparently, I was too drunk to do so, which is just straight fucked up since I can still write this entry hours later.

So in my head I firgure "fuck it; I'll go upstairs and get a cider."  

For those of you not in Europe; a cider at a bar is around 4.5% alcohol, so clearly it can't do that much damage to me.  So I figure "Why not go upstairs and fix my needs?"

Someone downstairs had apparently assumed I was "too drunk and needed to be cut off", so as I order this baby-ass cider; a guard walks up and tells the bartender that I am cut-off.  

To me this makes no sense.  I haven't caused any problems and am not nearly as drunk as I am the usual time I am (or my friends are) on a usual night this this place.  But as a non-confrontational individual; I agree to their decision and go downstairs to dance some more.

So I groove for a while and start to feel the need for another "kick" to assist me.

As soon as I walk to the bar, 2 giant men confront me and ask me to "follow them to the exist."

I realize I am being kicked out.  I have no clue why; but as a little guy; I'm not gonna cause any problems.  I pull out my coat-check number, receive my jacket and head towards my bike.

Now I will admit, I am pretty drunk (not kicked out of the venue drunk; but still fairly gone), so I call my friend to ask where we parked.  I soon find my bike, admit my defeat and start traveling home.  Half way through the ride, my bike starts acting funny.  The next thing I know; the chain completely screws up, falls off its router, and I'm stuck alone in the middle of god-knows-where.  I try to fix the chain a few times then call my friend (still enjoying himself back at the bar) trying to see if I can get a verbal instruction on fixing my bike.  Which, of course, doesn't happen.  So for the last half of the 3 miles home, I'm drunk-walking my bike home praying a cop doesn't see me wobble and put me in the drunk tank.  

Luckily, I made it home.  The shit that sucks is I'm here, only slightly under-the-influence, writing a story that may have been epic if I had ended up at the place of some female; but instead, it's just the upset drunk grumbling of a 21 year old in Sweden who isn't "Stockholm Swingers'"-ing it like he did back home.  

The point being; clearly, if I can write this entire story without effort (for the record, spell/gammer check was unneeded) and still get ousted before a noteworthy story can be written; there is a reason I was meant to live in Las Vegas.  Hopefully, I can fulfill my reputation as the "Stockholm Swinger" ASAP; otherwise; I'm straight up fucked.

Well I'm off to have a cigarette.  Hopefully you enjoyed my tale of fucking up.  I know I didn't; but that's half the point of this blog.  Right?