Real Swedish men (and one Egyptian-American) wear Björn Borg underwear

Hullo! I know, I know, there's like some 1008 posts that I need to do. But the past few days have been busy with the Kid visiting and some other stuff going on. Net net there's so much material that I cannot decide which one I should post first. But wait. Bamse has threatened to call from Stockholm so I need to make this a Rooster post. Especially with this Nadal chap making a habit of following Borg man, someone should tell him (Nadal) what is in his future. So here is a post in which moi's a silent spectator.

Malmo. Its the day of the Rooster's party. The Rooster's conned his very responsible sisters to take care of all the party work and he has got nothing to do. All that's been asked of him is to turn up. Rooster and M Antonius in deep discussion in balcony on foothills of Turning Torso early afternoon.

R: I need to pick up some clothes

M.A: What's wrong with what you are wearing now?

R: I need to change for the party

M.A: You got no clothes to change into?

R: I do. But I need to buy new underwear.

M.A: What happened to your laundry machine? Or don't they exist in Sweden?

R: This is a special occasion. I need to get special occasion underwear.

M.A: What do you Swedes do in your birthday parties? Is there something I should know that no one has told me yet?

R: No, you don't need to know. There will be a couple of chicks from my dorm.

M.A: Why do you still live in a dorm? Who lives here?

R: I stay in the dorm some days. The chicks are all there.

M.A: That sounds like a good reason. Can we go there on my grand tour of Sweden next week?

R: No.

M.A: Why?

R: Because we have to take a train to get there. Do you know what that is?

M.A: No, what is it? Wait, I know. I think I have seen it in a museum.

R: It is a vehicle with lots of coaches and an engine. It is huge.

M.A: Like a SUV? And its all just for one person?

R: No, lots of people travel in it. Hundreds. Its called public transportation.

M.A: Ah. Silly Swedes. No, can't do.

R: That's why we can't go to the dorm. And now, I am going to Björn Borg. Do you want to come?

M.A: Who is Björn Borg?

Rooster nearly falls off the balcony.

R: Did you ask who is Björn Borg?

M.A: Yes. Who is he?

R: Everytime I try to forget that you are American, you come up with something like this.

M.A: Well, who is he and why are you going to see him?

R: He sells underwear.

M.A: Oh, he is a Swedish underwear designer. Why should I know this Swedish underwear designer? So he is like a big brand in these parts?

R: You can say that.

M.A: I am in. Let us go see Björn Borg.

Twenty minutes later. Björn Borg store in Malmo. (People: Did you really think I was making all this up? Go click the link. Go on)

M.A: What is going on here? Where do these people come from?

R: Sweden

M.A: I know that, thank you. You don't see anything strange with the salesmen?

R: No

M.A: You mean you don't think that they have jumped out of a gay music video?

R: No

M.A: Dude!

R: What? Here, I am done. I am getting these.

M.A: What's up with powder pink and blue? What happened to blacks and whites?

R: They are all here

M.A: Yeah, there are two solid blacks among thousands of pink underwear. Where are we dude?

R: Bamseland. Here, men are comfortable in their sexuality.

M.A: Yuck. Yuck.

R: What now?

M.A: This is like lycra. This is porno underwear, that's what it is. You wear porno underwear.

R: The cotton ones are here. If you look at only porno underwear there is nothing I can do.

M.A: I don't believe this. We are in a store that sells pink underwear with floral patterns on them.

R: You need to get outside your country once in a while and see what real men wear.

M.A: Real men? Yeah right.

R: I am done. Let's go.

M.A: Wait

R: I knew it

M.A: It isn't what you think it is.

R: I know it is. Which ones are you getting?

M.A: I just want to show people back home what goes for men's underwear in Sweden.

R: I am sure that's why you are buying powder pink.

M.A: Why can't I be comfortable in my sexuality?

R: We aren't comfortable in our sexuality because we wear Björn Borg. Its the other way around.

M.A: Do you know how these sizes work? Relative to US brands?

R: Why would I?

M.A. accosts salesgirl (SG).

M.A: Hello! Would you happen to know what size I should get?

SG: Sir, you can try them on. The fitting rooms are this way.

M.A: Oh. Thanks.

SG runs away.

M.A: Why are you laughing?

R: She didn't want to hurt your feelings. No need to try on anything.

M.A: What do you mean?

R: Björn Borg doesn't sell XXXS. For that matter, nobody does.

M.A: Very funny. I am getting medium.

R: It is your money. Are you sure?

M.A: Yeah, absolutely. Sure looks the size. Where do we pay?

A few minutes later.

M.A: 90 bucks. I paid 45 bucks for one of these?

R: Porno stuff costs a little more.

M.A: A little? This is the most expensive pair of underwear I have ever owned.

R: I am proud of you. Btw, Björn Borg.

M.A: Yeah, bastard.

R: He plays tennis.

M.A: Yeah right. And I wear porno underwear.

M.A. was more than happy to showcase his $40 underwear to all and sundry over the next couple of days. If this weren't a family blog, I would surely have put up pictures. But since it is, you will have to go see the yellow & pink flowery ones here.