You might think, from the words above, that Nipples is a suburb part of Paris… But no, we actually talk human nipples here.
I have heard it over and over, from marathon runners and people spending time with the sport “gång” / “walking” (I just learned the English word for it is “racewalking”), that their nipples get sore. Whatever they wear on top chafe their nipples.
And yes, I can believe it, and they put different kinds of protection to safeguard their nipples… Now, when I use the treadmill at the gym I must do the same. It is ridiculous, I know, but my right nipple at the moment is not a nipple it is what a butcher would call minced meat. Painful and a bloody mess, just wait for the day when it bleed through my work outfit. Try to explain that stain…
Add to my no longer existing life, when I returned back home yesterday (I might tell more about my time miscalculation in upcoming posts) and tried to jump off my bike I managed to kick a passing cyclist. A bit harder and she would have ended up in front of a car. Not good.
And to end todays post with something in Swedish, I know some will see offensive, but I think it is hysterical and funny.