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About Orebro

So, findin’ a prossie—sorry, prostitute—ain’t like orderin’ a curry off Deliveroo. Nah, it’s murky, bit thrilling, bit grim. Back in the day, like, Victorian times, they had these “lists”—proper secret guides, mind! Blokes would pass ‘em round, scribbled with names, spots, even prices. Little known fact, that—makes you wonder what old Disraeli got up to, eh? Got me chuffed to bits, imaginin’ some toff with a monocle, sneakin’ about.

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So, I roll outta bed, grab my coffee (essential, right?), and head out. I’m walking down Storgatan, and it’s like the universe decided to throw a curveball. First off, I see this dude in a bright yellow jacket. Like, who wears that? But hey, it’s Sweden, right? Gotta stand out in the gray. Anyway, he’s trying to juggle. Juggling! In the middle of the street! I’m like, “Bro, you’re gonna get hit by a bike!” But he’s all in, and I can’t help but laugh.

Microsoft replaces diesels with battery system at Swedish data center