I’m sorry, I’m a little busy. Can I ignore you later?

In a fashionable and non-conformist manner I have guided your lives these four months in Uppsala. Without a doubt in my mind I am convinced that I can set most of you free in the wild and untamed world of hipsters and fashion-fails. Most of you are now educated enough to continue your quest for the ultimate voguish lifestyle. Just remember; every goodbye makes the next hello closer. But before the final farewell, I present you with your final fashgasm. This time with a twist…

I will present each one of our dedicated followers with a personal L&L Award, fitting to their personality, style and history.

It seems suitable to give the first award to someone whom you’ve all learned to love through the blog, as she was the first and most mentioned devotee. For her incredible biking skills, acrobatic technique and gracious faceplanting, the Biker-Babe Award goes to Annie.

The second award goes to someone who finally learned that combining colors is not in her nature and has decided to go with another approach. For having an exclusively pink, hello-kitty-based closet, Carola receives the Pink-Porn Award.

Up next, is a legendary musketeer, whose alluring charisma gets people to journey for days into the wilderness of Uppsala’s outskirts. Hanri, please accept the Forest-Troll Award.

Another frequent guest in your fashgasms, is a German who really understands the meaning of facial décor, whether it is with an advertisement or leopard-print glasses. I am proud to present the Glorious-Glasses Award to Lodda.

One that has reMarked himself as a pimp, and an enjoyer of fine, milk-based delights, accompanied by a Russian roulette of rock clubs and pubs, needs to pick up his White-Russian Award at the superMark(et).

As a fierce, almost fanatic, follower of beats, a true dancer of the Club of Uppsala, you always know where to find this fine lady. Enjoying the stairs she’s getting, I hope Liony will be honored to receive Voguish-Värmlands Award.

Being gay for a day is okay, if your bro gets a hoe to kiss under the mistletoe. The next guy who has to pick up an epic L&L Award, should also pick up his purple scarf and honor the bro code as he does so well. Justus is hereby entitled with the Scarfed-Wingman Award.

For hosting epic parties in her kitchen, you would think that our next candidate, Inka, would be rewarded for best host. I mean, she even hires a ‘famous couple’ for audio entertainment. But for gruesome misconduct and straight up misuse of her kitchen, she will have to accept the Friday-Cookies Award.

Some people are better than others, and we would like to reward these kind of people accordingly. Hence our next nominee is awarded two L&L’s. For being a beacon of fashionable facial hair, as well as enlightening our lives with the brilliant beat of her box, Mira, step up and receive both the Best-Mustache Award and the Best-Beatboxer Award.

Finally, our last grant of the evening, goes to someone who, by times, has deprived us of her astonishing presence. For not being there, the Unattending Award goes to Sahuni.

So here we are, my disciples. All reigns must come to an end. And just as a mighty kingdom has to fall for a new dictator to rise from the ashes, I have to pass on the torch for a new beacon to enlighten your eyes. I can’t tell you where to look for it, but the knowledge you have obtained from reading Longboards and Latté should be sufficient. This is truly the end of an era, an age of nonconformism and vogue,  but it has been my honor to grant you my wisdom. It was a lot of work but that’s okay because I like work. It fascinates me. I  sit and look at it for hours. So here we are, the song has almost ended, but remember; the melody lingers on.

Heming (Norrlands Award) and Erwin (Pink-Dress Award)

Ps. Biologically speaking, if something bites you, it is more likely to be female.Or German 😉

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Cheer up, the worst is yet to come…

Evening news is where they begin with ‘Good evening’, and then proceed to tell you why it isn’t. Somehow, I feel that this is related to the approaching holiday. This is why I have decided to dedicate this outstanding beacon of truth to the highs and lows of Rudolf, Santa and yuletide liquor. Get ready for a christmagasm!

First, I would like to address a common misconception among my friends. Some people seem to think that it is predominant to make cookies. On a friday. Friday, everyone knows you have to get down on friday. Kickin’ in the backseat or the front-seat. Hence, baking cookies on a Friday evening, instead of getting down, drunk and indecent at a club, could probably be considered crimes against humanity. No gift-wrapped penises or other Christmas delights for you unworthy, foul, fake fashgasmers. Bottomline: Don’t make cookies on a fun, fun, fun Friday! Or the cemetery may become your permanent residence.

This Sunday, the first of advent, we saw the magical powder drizzling from the sky, covering paved streets and sleeping gardens in a white, romantic, blissful layer of profound beauty. I know this leaves you with a lot problems, particularly how to dress when your environment is all white (no racist). Don’t worry, my little elves, I have style-advice for you. First off: when being outside, you might think wool is of the essence and a sweater, a hat, a scarf and mittens are mandatory, but no, in order to truly stand out, you have to go beyond. Preferably, you should wear something that shows that you are unencumbered by the cold, Swedish winter. Learn from the natives, and dress less to impress. To set up some guidelines, keep in mind, that your outfit should be more fitting for the summer. Even though your nipples might be cold and hard, at least you’ll get people’s attention.

Another problem with this polar layer covering Uppsala’s streets is wheeled transportation. If you can’t make your breaks better, I recommend to at least make your horn louder. This prevents serious accidents, but minor injuries are unfortunately not avoidable. My friend, let’s call her Milly, for instance, has understood that a blue elbow goes incredibly well with a matching purple scarf. Not only do the colors complete each other, it also makes you appear like a nonconformist, dangerous daredevil.

Lastly, for all those battling through the festive season, I offer you my personal solution to every problem: Christmas liquor. After intensive negotiations with Systembolaget, I convinced them to get some true rebellious beer from the Brewdog brewery, whose crack team of elves, penguins and red nose raindeer have been crafting, brewing and perfecting a warming winter stout as a reward for all those driven to the brink and back in the name of Noel. In fact this beer is so good, I specifically advise against sharing it with any chimney intruding, night time visitors.

Until next time,
Fröhliche Weihnachten, polar-beer rapists.

PS. A line is a dot that went for a walk.

Constant change is here to stay…

This week the internet tried to restrain me, but what it forgot is that I will always rise. I will always prevail, ‘cause I am bigger than the internet. In fact: without me there would not be a internet. With this statement, take off your pants and get ready for your bloggasm of the week:

Again, I want to introduce you to one of my friends, let’s call her Carola. Well, I know she is a devoted disciple to my never-ending orgasm of fab, but this does not make it ok to wear a pink wig. And what’s worse, is that she misinterpreted our glasses-guidance: While leopard print glasses make everyone stunning, white and pink does not exactly scream November! This is fashion 101.

However, what I recommend this week, is to keep wearing the glasses, sunglasses in particular, preferably with a stylish hip hat, blue or red, that you can use to drag your hair backwards, so that a centimeter of your hairline enlightens the room. Furthermore, it is predominant that you wear it inside. In order to maintain a nonconformist lifestyle, you should question authority and wear hats inside and sunglasses in the dark. This way, you tell the world that your surroundings don’t determine your looks, this fashgasming festival of trend advice does.

It is necessary for me to establish a winner image. Therefore, I have to beat somebody, and I’m glad all my friend’s make it so easy. Making them look worse, is a challenge I gladly accept. However, when nobody does anything worth writing about, I duct tape myself to silence, because duct tape is like the force. It has a light side, a dark side, and it holds the universe together.

Until we meet again, young padawans!

PS: Just because nobody complains, it doesn’t mean that all parachutes are perfect.

Half of the people in the world are below average…

As November darkens our lives, with its deprival of sunlight, its cold, and the increasing amount of clothing on girls, I am proud to present you with this week’s fashgasm.

What I have noticed in the last couple of weeks, is that some hipsters, for example a humble, close friend of mine, let’s call him Hanry, really has got it going on. I’m still not sure how he does it, but somehow, he finds a way to attract people to his man-cave, far, far into the dark wilderness of the forest of ravenous squirrels in the outskirts of Uppsala. I still don’t fully understand his sublime and advanced tactical maneuvering and social skills, that makes him the center of attention(second to me), whether it is getting phone numbers and making out with hot Swedish girls in clubs, or luring innocent friends into the middle of nowhere. Even though he was not the one getting a blowjob in the bathroom of Stockholms nation while leaving the door open for other people to enjoy the show, and even though he never leaves his astonishing signature in our comment section, I still think he deserves some applause for his performance this week.

Of course we have the brilliant V-dala nation, with its mosh-pitting, wall of death rock club, but this week I think that the alternative, nonconformist GH nation, deserves my attention. This nation is full of people who know how to live their nonconormist lifestyle to the fullest. I mean, nose-piercings and rainbow-colored dreadlocks aren’t exactly fab, but these flower children surely know how to dress to impress and stand out in a crowd; No H&M-clothes in sight. At GH nation you find everything from punker to hippies, and for those of you living in the 21st century, a hippie is someone who looks like Tarzan, walks like Jane and smells like Cheetah.

People think it must be fun to be a voguish trendsetter, but they don’t realize how hard it is to put up with all the poorly dressed people in the world. So once again, here’s some style advice. A couple of weeks back, I talked about the pink scarf-experience, and it’s magical effect on a person’s level of attractiveness. Combining this with the glasses from my very first blog-post, as it turns out, increases your sex-appeal and ability to socially compete exponentially, both quantitatively and qualitatively. My experiment at ÖG nation this Friday clearly proves this hypothesis and therefore my style IQ.

I know I impoverished your lives by not writing last week, but I hope that this extended addition can be a beacon of light in this dark and passionless November.

Farewell and shalom, faithful disciples! May the force be with you!

PS: Health is merely the slowest possible rate at which one can die.

Achtung! Ze Germans arrived…

When I die, I wanna go like my grandpa, peaceful and sleeping, and not screaming like the passengers in his car. But I’m not dead, because, awesome as I am, I do not have the conscience to deprive you of this weeks fashgasm:

Yet again, I found myself behind the mic, fångad av en stormvind. The reason was another invasion from das lederhosentragende Bundesrepublik. Somehow, I end up writing about my Germanic brothers in the south in every supreme fashgasming blog. I try not to offend you, but you make it really hard (that’s what she said) – bitte, das ist sehr gut, so be proud, Junge! Just keep in mind that the man who smiles when things go wrong, has someone to blame it on, in my case ze Germans.

If you are in the Market for white Russians, I observed this reMarkable pimp at Upplands nation this Tuesday; casually bringing white Russian deliciousness to the table as if it was a daily procedure, he truly raised the bar to the Mark of extravagance. I can still recall his timeless words of wisdom: Some say the glass is half full, some say it’s half empty. I say: “Are you gonna drink that?”

This beacon of unorthodox even brought me to the undisputed capitol of fashion, Stockholm, to see a traditionbreaking, independent band. The concert was in the Sofo district, the place where such beautyqueens as Robyn and Alexander Skarsgård were born and raised. According to my scale, the concert was, muah.. okay, but for average people, such as Californians, I imagine it was mindblowing. Anyway, this orgasm of nonconformism that is Chirping, delivered an expression of heavenly ecstasy, the depressive soundtrack to the revolution, where appearance is all and none is in vain. http://www.myspace.com/chirpingmusic

Before I came to Uppsala, I used to be normal, but then I met those loser lowlifes I call my friends. I changed… And now, with autumn winds blowing cold and the sun lower on the horizon, this has even effected my superb visual aspects, which resulted in me inventing a new trend of astonishing scarfing. You should wear a pink or purple scarf with an unbuttoned shirt; that way, you’ll be the perfect wingman. Girls want a lot of things from one guy. Conversely, guys want one thing from a lot of girls.

Finally, I would like to consult my friend, let’s call her Annie, because I did not mention her in this blog. Please don’t cry and don’t follow my advice: Avoid hangovers: stay drunk.

Auf wiederschreiben!

PS: Why is it called ‘after dark’ when it really is ‘after light’?

Gasming and Gasques…

First off, I have to say that I am deeply disappointed in my dedicated followers. Except from a few true fashion gurus, none seem to be willing to contribute to the universe of vogue that is Longboards and Latté. I hope that more of you will better yourself for next week’s stylish endeavor to prevent a strike from occurring.

With that said, we return to this week’s unstrained fashgasm. So: Do you ever dream yourself away from the daily grind and into a fantasy world? Surely we all do. This is casual in Stockholms nation, the home of the androgynous phenomenon that is Swedes, where the musical and cultural elite of this supreme trend nation gather for a perfect storm of gelled hair, low cut shirts and fistpumping. The highlight of this nation, is obviously its music. Whereas SNerikes remixes their music and Värmlands remixes these remixes, Stockholm nation finds a way to remix the remix of the remix. Truly original.

However, I am sad to report, that not all my fashgasming friends were able to join me, in this ecstacy of move- and eargasms. One, whose trademark is being blonde and glamourous, prefers a lawgasm to a dancegasm, which doesn’t really give me a fantastgasm. The second, being homesick and patriotic, had to return to Vaterland for his germagasm, in my opinion, not acceptagasming at all. The third, the ruler of a vast and empty kingdom that she isn’t able to roam because of a problegasm with her ankle, had to wait a couple of days before her donkeykonggasm, becoming the apeshit charmer that I know and love. And remember: If you break your ankle in two places. Stop going to those places.

A way to escape traditional nation hopping is going to a gasque. This classy, groomed festival of refinement, offers not only economical ruin, it also creates the desire for a mouthgasm at Max. Because I have to be honest here; serving small plates of food and an enormous load of different alcoholic beverages, doesn’t only make sluttyness rule the night, it also turns your stomach into a void of despair and hunger.

The conclusion? I don’t know. I need a Max burger to make sense of this.

Nous avons vu!

PS: Never take life seriously. Nobody gets out alive anyway.