Stockholm Art Swim Gents With No Visible Body Hair

After a super-busy weekend, last night I just felt like curling up and watching some telly. This is challenging as I live like an Amish person (no TV, no microwave, no car, no freezer -- although with far more OPI nail polishes than your average Amish person). So when I want to watch telly, I have to turn to illegal filesharing  wonderful, perfectly legal services like ABC iView.

Last night, I found a very cute little documentary called Men Who Swim, about the Swedish mens synchronised swimming team, delightfully named the Stockholm Art Swim Gents. Bless!

I was expecting some sort of Swedish Year of the Dogs, only with less Terry Wallis, so to that end I was somewhat disappointed. But I did thoroughly enjoy this sweet little film about trying to find some meaning in community.

This film firmly reinforced my beliefs that Swedish men are really very good-looking (if a bit hairless for mine -- my tastes run to the more hirsute), and that in Sweden it is perfectly acceptable, nay appropriate, to shower a billion times a day.

Good.

I love showering, but I live in Victoria, which has been plagued with drought for many years. Not only that, but I live in the people's republic of Brunswick (a somewhat green electorate) which means that if you took a second shower you could reasonably expect to be stoned to death in the Barkly Square car park amidst a sea of Subaru wagons sporting 3RRR stickers. How refreshing to note that I might be able to have a sneaky second shower when I am abroad. Oh, the luxury!

You know I don't like to bang on about these things, but did I mention that I am going to Sweden in five days? Oh, I did? Apolz.