In Stockholm we introduced the Swedish police to the English expression Shit or get off the pot. At first we were confused by their random harassment but, in time, we managed to turn the tables and confuse them, feeling redeemed and triumphant, with our witty anecdotes. Here’s what happened exactly: We played a ballsy set at the city’s schwankest Scandic Malmen hotel lobby venue where the finest citizens of Stockholm (and they are some of the finest on earth of course) let loose their shiny hair and tapped their fancy shoes and, generally, banded about the low stage and took to shebanging and shindigging and bashing around. During the show Dan realized that his microphone was actually long enough to lead him wholly outside the venue. Covered in sweat and still singing his heart out he met with a perplexed bouncer in the frosty night air who tried to close the door on him before realizing that Dan was in fact the “star of the show” he was trying to protect! We continued to rile the crowd by describing our exhausting and troublesome experiences from the night prior in Copenhagen’s entitled weed city of Chrisitiania. Dan refers to them as “Fucking Hippies” and I concur that it’s “Nice to be back in civilization where there are actually less rules than in their anarchic squat quarters” and the crowd, mostly, yelps with agreement…except for a few stoners most likely. The show is truly a success. And we are happiest that our friends Carl and Axel and Patrik and Kalle and Aki and Stefan are there for it. So we were in high spirits when we left the bar and went back stage to do some press with our dear friend Victor Moreno from Madrid. We were just finishing off a lengthy chat and photo shoot when three of the most uncool-looking plain-clothed officers busted in on us. (My immediate thought was that if these are actually undercover cops they need to learn to dress better to bust up the folks in the finely dressed Stockholm hot spots!) In truth, we didn’t believe they were even police agents at first. When the first meathead cornered Dan and asked him if he’d been drinking, Dan said, “Who are you?” and then asked to see his badge. Still unconvinced and feeling like he might be getting shaken down from some scary fake cops whose intentions might be more duplicitous than the real ones, he raised himself up a bit and said, “Of course, I’ve been drinking. The venue gave me drink tickets.” (Truth be told, we didn’t even have booze any where near us because we were doing an interview in our backstage! They’d really chosen the wrong people to bully) And then when the second cop asked Dan if he’d ever done drugs before, Dan laughed and said, “Well yes of course. Who hasn’t done drugs in the history of their lives?” I laughed and said, “But sir I regretted it immediately.” And poor Victor tried to protest, “Do you guys realize that these are the people who just got off stage? You have this all wrong my friends.” His dulcet Spanish tones should have softened the mood some but they didn’t. As they continued to try to berate us, I ran up to the hotel lobby and told the reception what was happening and then proceeded to round up the head of security. I returned to the “scene of the crime”, where no crimes of any kind were being committed, just in time to hear Dan saying, “Have you heard of the expression Shit or get off the pot?” Cop number three shrugged and Cop number one said, “No.” So Dan explained, “The concept is this: if you aren’t going to make me pee in a cup or strip search me or arrest me, I’d like to go have a cigarette because this is just irritating and a waste of my time.” I took Dan’s hand and said, “Yes, baby, I feel like I’m being harassed and I’ve filed a complaint with the hotel staff.” With perfect timing the largest bouncers and hotel manager descended the flight of stairs and asked to have a word with the now lowly, poorly dressed idiotic undercover cops with nothing to do on a Wednesday night but try to “stir the pot” that we were apparently sitting on. And then it ended as swiftly as it had begun. And then we proceeded to actually get just a little bit drunk.