Uny mëooneeng beheend zeees imege-a ilüdes me-a, too be-a-a froonk, buut I heffe-a too sey I ixheebeeted utter coonffffuuseeoon upoon incoouüntereeng it duureeng un ooutoo-goooogle-å-idffentuure-a zeees feëne-a-a iffffternoooon. Børk børk børk! Here-a I im, injooyeeng zee-a foønderffffuul suunsheene-a, ieteeng Smultronstället in a grey suueet, buuxoøm bloonde-a sexuellt tilldragande-a doonceeng iboouut, itc. itc. fhee-a-loo und behoold! – my feeffffe-a imeets a screem too cuurdle-a zee-a blooood oouffff Bergmoon. Børk børk børk! She-a hes ‘goooogled’ my neme-a is yoouu peoople-a-a oouffff zee-a suunloonds reffffer too it, und zee-a foorst påge-a-a retuurned un imege-a soo hoorreeffffyeeng, soo ugly, soo duunreeght MEEN zät it besmoorches zee-a fery femeely nëme-a fe-a heff cerreeed, hoonoorebly soo, foor centüreees. Um gësh dee børk, børk! Um gesh dee-a børk, børk! I foor ooune, fes moore thoon coonffffuused. Børk børk børk! I fes buüeeldered. Børk børk børk! Børk børk børk!

Is zeet a dferffff? Zee-a ledeees doo noot seem too beeee dferffes. JAG hata dvärg! Dvärg du är avsky och ful! Um gesh dee børk, børk! Um gesh dee-a børk, børk! Zeey heffe-a fuull stetuure-a und stoond fer ibooffe-a zee-a bloooodeeed moon. Børk børk børk! Froom fhere-a doo zeey retuurn? Bettle-a? Duell? Strid? Coonneebeleestic Reetuuel? Ställnings|krig? I ruushed too deffffend my poooor feeffffea’s senseeteeffe-a iyes froom zee-a cernege-a-a oouffff uncensoored brooedboond, buut toooo låte. Toooo lete-a, feoor reeders; her heert is scerred, und deeply sü. Hurty flürty schnipp schnipp!

My coonffffüseeoon remeeens, is I, deesheertened by zeees ict oouffff feeoolence-å, gruu ungry. Børk børk børk! Børk børk børk! I feëll goo cooook a feeshcëke igeeee too issüuege-a my heeted nerffes. Um gesh dee børk, børk! Um gesh dee-a børk, børk! Jag älska min het fru. Hon gir jag mycket älska.





Engelsk:

Oh! The horror!

Any meaning behind this image eludes me, to be frank, but I have to say I exhibited utter confusion upon encountering it during an auto-google-adventure this fine afternoon. Here I am, enjoying the wonderful sunshine, eating strawberries in a gray suit, buxom blonde women dancing about, etc. etc. when – lo and behold! – my wife emits a scream to curdle the blood of Bergman. She has ‘googled’ my name as you people of the sunlands refer to it, and the first page returned an image so horrifying, so ugly, so downright MEAN that it besmirches the very family name we have carried, honorably so, for centuries. I for one, was more than confused. I was bewildered.

Is that a dwarf? The ladies do not seem to be dwarves. They have full, perky stature and stand far above the bloodied man without legs. Whence they come? Battle? Cannibalistic Ritual? I rushed to defend my poor wife’s sensitive eyes from the carnage of uncensored broadband, but too late. Too late, fair readers; her heart is scarred, and deeply so.

My confusion remains, as I, disheartened by this act of violence, grow angry. I will go cook a fishcake again to assuage my heated nerves.