Gather round, kids, it's Quasi-Philosophy Hour.
Listen: People say "To each his own," and "I need to take care of myself before I am able to take care of others," and "I don't have the energy, my batteries need recharging." Listen, children, because what they are saying is this: "Stop bothering me. I am the world. Fuck off." This is the truth: There is no such thing as Surplus Energy. Everyone has needs, and these needs are too great for themselves to manage. From this we can learn several things. The first, and most important thing is this: Put Other People First. Naturally, this means sacrifice. It also means that you will need people, Other People, who may be hard to find, depending on your luck. The lucky ones begin their life with these Other People looking out for them. Others stumble upon them by accident. The rest will have to search, long and hard. Some may choose the Easy Way, often referred to as Religion. But this I believe: Religion is a Lie. There is no Easy Way.
Enough talk about Other People for now, you probably know this already anyway. Nature has already placed it in your mind (even if it's sometimes hard to find), so as to ensure you won't give up without trying.
Something else can be learned, namely that Individuality is both a Lie and a Truth. It is a lie if you worship it, but it is true when you value it.
And lastly, at least for now, one can learn about Meaning. Now, children, I need you to bear with me, because this is somewhat of a leap in logic: Putting Other People First is not a goal in itself, but means to an end. It's a tool that mankind will need to evolve, just as fire and hammers and whatnot before it. What is more, we cannot evolve further while stuck in the loop of our survival instincts. People have been concerned about their dinner, their bloodline and their physical welfare since, well, always. Only when freed from these obligations, only when we're living in Luxury and giving our very own survival the finger, is it possible to discover just what the hell we're supposed to be doing (if anything).
I am aware that this is impossible, which is why it doesn't really matter, but, boys and girls, you also need to be aware of this: Luxury is not the same as Apathy (nor is it an excuse for it), and it is not Surplus Energy, either. It is merely a state of mind, and impossible to reach unless you have Other People looking out for you. Which, in turn, means you have to look out for Other People. And so the wonderful (or hideous, depending on your point of view) cycle begins.
And so the lesson ends, with many questions. You may ask: Who are these Other People, and where can I find them? Just what is it we're supposed to be doing, then? What the fuck are you babbling about, anyway? I will answer your questions in the very spirit of Angry-La, like so: Don't know, don't really care.
One more thing: Merry Christmas to all of you who celebrate that sort of thing, and Have a Nice Weekend to those of you who don't.
December 22, 2005
December 14, 2005
Adventure Waits for No Man (or elf)
My grand return to World of Warcraft turned out to be a bit disappointing. I had expected horns and fireworks, and a collective sigh of relief that things were finally back to normal, everyone could let go of their dreadful longing (for the me) and start enjoying the game again.
The reason this didn't happen is, of course, because WoW never really stopped when I left, not that many people noticed, and in addition I have now started a completely new level 1 character on a whole different realm. Nevertheless, another dream of greatness shattered, in the most brutal of ways: By simply not caring.
Besides that, it was fun. Slower than I remembered, but still.
The reason this didn't happen is, of course, because WoW never really stopped when I left, not that many people noticed, and in addition I have now started a completely new level 1 character on a whole different realm. Nevertheless, another dream of greatness shattered, in the most brutal of ways: By simply not caring.
Besides that, it was fun. Slower than I remembered, but still.
December 08, 2005
Harry Potter, professional bully
As you've likely guessed from the headline, it's time to talk about the deeper machinations of the mind. This stems from a discussion I had with a friend the other day. We were watching Harry Pothead and the Stoned Philosopher when she suddenly cried out: This is crap. Well, she didn't say it like that, and besides, she speaks norwegish, but still. Her main source of aggression was the blatantly obvious way in which the characters are presented: The bad brats are cowardly and stupid, while Potter & friends are kind, courageous, succesful, violent (but only when they 'need' to be) and petty. Wait a second. Petty? Oh, yes. The nice kids love nothing better than seeing their rivals get beaten and humiliated. My friend continued her tirade by saying how kids should't be exposed to this and how she would keep her own children from seeing it.
That's really where I chimed in (arguing that kids are capable of at least some thought), but that's beside the point. The Potter series is, as far as I'm concerned, quite harmless in its obvious escapism. Besides that, I agree with her completely, and had the same thoughts myself the first time I saw it. But let's leave Harry to his evil schemings and talk about something far more serious. Today, you see, I read the newspaper (and this is where you all go, "oooh!"). It told me that 18% of Norwegians between 18 and 25 years thinks torture is acceptable and a valuable tool in the skirmishes against terrorism. When every damn military intelligence expert will tell you that torture does not work, how in the pus-soaked hell have people gotten this impression? Yes, 24, I'm looking at you. The wildly overrated TV series throws torture at the viewer as often as possible, as many of you probably know. But the worst thing is, it's the good guys who're doing it. And they always get the information they need.
Of course, 24 is not alone in this ridiculous point of view. Basically, Hollywood (and most other parts of western culture) are telling us this: If the Bad People (tm) are violent, we, the Good Guys (tm), need to be even more violent. Violence is key, violence is God in western society. To me, this is far more disturbing than some kid who fights evil by waving his penis, excuse me, his 'magic wand', and plays airborne rugby without having to adjust his glasses once.
That's really where I chimed in (arguing that kids are capable of at least some thought), but that's beside the point. The Potter series is, as far as I'm concerned, quite harmless in its obvious escapism. Besides that, I agree with her completely, and had the same thoughts myself the first time I saw it. But let's leave Harry to his evil schemings and talk about something far more serious. Today, you see, I read the newspaper (and this is where you all go, "oooh!"). It told me that 18% of Norwegians between 18 and 25 years thinks torture is acceptable and a valuable tool in the skirmishes against terrorism. When every damn military intelligence expert will tell you that torture does not work, how in the pus-soaked hell have people gotten this impression? Yes, 24, I'm looking at you. The wildly overrated TV series throws torture at the viewer as often as possible, as many of you probably know. But the worst thing is, it's the good guys who're doing it. And they always get the information they need.
Of course, 24 is not alone in this ridiculous point of view. Basically, Hollywood (and most other parts of western culture) are telling us this: If the Bad People (tm) are violent, we, the Good Guys (tm), need to be even more violent. Violence is key, violence is God in western society. To me, this is far more disturbing than some kid who fights evil by waving his penis, excuse me, his 'magic wand', and plays airborne rugby without having to adjust his glasses once.
Have nerd, will trade
Seems like it's open season on nerds these days. First, go read this. And then, let me follow up with some colour commentary: Since the relative success of the football nerds, apparently Norwegian TV execs are desperate for other strange things they can get nerds to do. If you close your eyes, you can, mayhaps, see them in your mind; wondering, what places haven't nerds been before? The answer, of course, is blindingly obvious: The bosom of a beautiful woman. It's a concept almost mind-bending in its ingenious simplicity, yet it sounds about as fresh and innovative as a modern-day Dallas. But the logic of the executives is flawed, they're forgetting one thing: A beautiful woman is far more common than a quality nerd. They're in grave danger of treading well-worn waters when they're asking the females to apply, as well. Why not just grab a bunch of nerds and toss them into a den of sex-crazy strippers? And how about they replace the nerds with world-weary, physically deformed dwarves (preferrably intelligent ones)? Now that's a show I'd like to watch.
My guess is they'll get quite a few candidates for this one, though. For all their combined intelligence, the football nerds still don't seem to grasp the fact that they're being ridiculed on national TV. But neither does the average viewer, apparently.
My guess is they'll get quite a few candidates for this one, though. For all their combined intelligence, the football nerds still don't seem to grasp the fact that they're being ridiculed on national TV. But neither does the average viewer, apparently.
December 05, 2005
Celebrate the Randomness
What do you know, after each aggressive, pessimistic post there must follow complete nonsense. This time it comes in the form of Wikipedias graveyard of silliness, which should warm the hearts of everybody, especially fans of absurd humor.
Mankind Behaving Badly
Global peace is just around the corner! Or maybe not. Although it's easy to, once again, blame Israel for making an unnecessary contribution to world chaos, reality is as always not that simple. Actually, their behaviour in this case resembles the actions of a spoiled child more than a psychopathic killer (which is usually the case). And on that same note, the sulky brat-award this week goes to Iran, who've announced that they want to build another nuclear power plant, while still looking for the 'on' button of their first one. I could give you more examples, but my guess is you get the general idea: Kids with guns is a bad thing, but kids with nuclear weapons, hordes of religious fanatics and/or a strong diplomatic relationship with the world's most powerful and evil country (I'm not talking Switzerland here, folks) is just plain crazy. Add in the fact that all responsible adults seem to have left the planet permanently, and it leaves all of us with two choices: Stay awake at night and tremble with fear, or fuck it and try to make the best of the time that's left.
What's that you're saying? You're thinking about the future? Damn it all, haven't you been paying attention? Go for a swim, and if that doesn't clear your head, why not go shopping? And feel free to sound off on a random internet forum.
Yes, the future looks fantastic. Remember to save your money, your children will need them to get the toxic spill out of their hair (using a special shampoo, produced under license from the Coca-Cola Company).
Oh, all right. Rant complete. Have a nap. (Zen fire ze missiles!)
What's that you're saying? You're thinking about the future? Damn it all, haven't you been paying attention? Go for a swim, and if that doesn't clear your head, why not go shopping? And feel free to sound off on a random internet forum.
Yes, the future looks fantastic. Remember to save your money, your children will need them to get the toxic spill out of their hair (using a special shampoo, produced under license from the Coca-Cola Company).
Oh, all right. Rant complete. Have a nap. (Zen fire ze missiles!)
November 27, 2005
The Truth is Outer (part 1 perhaps)
Remember that old sci-fi/horror show, the X-files? Remember how cool you thought it was that there finally was a serious show about aliens and ghosts and other strange stuff? And after a while, how you were able to see through each episode completely; that Mulder and Scully would survive, that they would never learn anything of value, that each episode would end with Scully giving a completely ludicrous scientific explanation on the events of today's episode and then something would happen to make her go "WTF?"?
Around the time I got access to the channel broadcasting the X-files, another sci-fi show made its way on to norwegian television. This show you may not remember, it was called 'the Outer Limits'. Here there were no safeguards, all bets were off, there was no such thing as a predictable outcome, and noone was guaranteed survival. Why? Because OL was an anthology show. Each episode a self-contained story, trying to trick and twist the viewers mind as much as their budget would allow. All sceptics beware: I was about 14 years old at the time, and hadn't really seen that much genre shows. I was also completely unaware of wonders such as the Twilight Zone or Tales from the Crypt, but that's irrelevant.
The Outer Limits (the 90s one, not the original) only got one full season on norwegian television (the original got none, in case you were wondering), but due to trickery and obscure, dark magicks I have, over the years, gotten to see a lot more. And every damn time I watch it, I get the same thought in my barely-functoning brain: Why on earth aren't any norwegians making stuff like this?
More on this later, perhaps, if these thoughts remain (unlikely, but worth a shot). But now I am going to bed. It is late; my chin is getting hairy. Also, watch in awe as my pun powers grow.
Around the time I got access to the channel broadcasting the X-files, another sci-fi show made its way on to norwegian television. This show you may not remember, it was called 'the Outer Limits'. Here there were no safeguards, all bets were off, there was no such thing as a predictable outcome, and noone was guaranteed survival. Why? Because OL was an anthology show. Each episode a self-contained story, trying to trick and twist the viewers mind as much as their budget would allow. All sceptics beware: I was about 14 years old at the time, and hadn't really seen that much genre shows. I was also completely unaware of wonders such as the Twilight Zone or Tales from the Crypt, but that's irrelevant.
The Outer Limits (the 90s one, not the original) only got one full season on norwegian television (the original got none, in case you were wondering), but due to trickery and obscure, dark magicks I have, over the years, gotten to see a lot more. And every damn time I watch it, I get the same thought in my barely-functoning brain: Why on earth aren't any norwegians making stuff like this?
More on this later, perhaps, if these thoughts remain (unlikely, but worth a shot). But now I am going to bed. It is late; my chin is getting hairy. Also, watch in awe as my pun powers grow.
November 21, 2005
A quick fix of religion
God-bashing goodness from Penn Jillette in this essay. Read and rejoice. A quote to whet your appetite: "Did I mention that my personal heartfelt definition of the word "elephant" includes mystery, order, goodness, love and a spare tire?"
And for all you lazy bastards out there: Relax, it's a short one.
And for all you lazy bastards out there: Relax, it's a short one.
Boring facts about penguins
Prehistoric penguins were unable to fly. They could swim, however, and that's probably how they've survived.
The colours of the penguin (black and white) serve as camouflage.
Penguins have no external genitalia. This sounds sad. But then again, since they don't have hands, they couldn't have done anything fun with them anyway.
Penguins are evil and about to take over the world. Run away. Now.
The colours of the penguin (black and white) serve as camouflage.
Penguins have no external genitalia. This sounds sad. But then again, since they don't have hands, they couldn't have done anything fun with them anyway.
Penguins are evil and about to take over the world. Run away. Now.
November 14, 2005
Life is hard but it's just too bad, man
Yeah yeah, no posts, and no excuses this time. I'm just lazy. Anything resembling coherent thought seem to be harder to come by at the age of 24. As I get older I only seem to grow angrier and more intolerant. Where is the wisdom that I was promised with age? Where are the life-changing experiences I heard so much about when I was younger? Anyway, some shout-outs to the people who saturday 6th made my view of life slightly less grim for a second or two: You know who you are. You know I'm grateful.
Alright, so that last part there was a blatant rip-off from Blur. Did I mention how I feel even less creative than last year? But that's what it's all about, right? Not being complacent with the way things are, not being pleased with oneself, isn't that supposed to be necessary for personal growth? One year of a persons life is just time, after all, unless one actually learns something in that period. And very few people do. To the people who refuses to awaken, those who considers this news story (about a Norwegian football player with a cold (that's soccer to any raving lunatics, or Americans if you prefer, who should happen to stumble upon this blog)) worthy of the front page of Norway's most popular "news"paper: Stop stealing berries from my dad's garden. Also, sharpen up: As much as I hate to admit it, the world can't do without you. You are the reason it's all so fucked. Think about that.
And if that's not enough to get that old, underemployed brain working, consider this: Someone will rape and kill you and your family unless the world changes. If it doesn't happen by itself, I will hire somebody. But enough angry ranting, let's bring in the joy for a moment. Because:
The quality of my life is about to skyrocket. The reason? This wonderful gadget. Yes, music really is that important. Here's the proof: A blind couple making quite uplifting music. And have you heard of these guys? Their unnamed album (you know, that white one) is one of the best ever made. And while we're on the subject, why is it that popular music so often sucks? Is it any wonder it's all going down the drain? Do you believe me if I say that someone asked me, just the other day, who the Beatles are? I thought not. But I swear it's the truth. No, really. I'm not saying everone should like them (even though I will think you're a moron if you don't), but one should at least recognize their impact on modern music. Oh, wait. Did I just say no more ranting? Bah, let's be honest: That's what you come here for.
(The author would like to apologize for any badly written, unfunny, or just plain rude parts of this post. Well, not really.)
Alright, so that last part there was a blatant rip-off from Blur. Did I mention how I feel even less creative than last year? But that's what it's all about, right? Not being complacent with the way things are, not being pleased with oneself, isn't that supposed to be necessary for personal growth? One year of a persons life is just time, after all, unless one actually learns something in that period. And very few people do. To the people who refuses to awaken, those who considers this news story (about a Norwegian football player with a cold (that's soccer to any raving lunatics, or Americans if you prefer, who should happen to stumble upon this blog)) worthy of the front page of Norway's most popular "news"paper: Stop stealing berries from my dad's garden. Also, sharpen up: As much as I hate to admit it, the world can't do without you. You are the reason it's all so fucked. Think about that.
And if that's not enough to get that old, underemployed brain working, consider this: Someone will rape and kill you and your family unless the world changes. If it doesn't happen by itself, I will hire somebody. But enough angry ranting, let's bring in the joy for a moment. Because:
The quality of my life is about to skyrocket. The reason? This wonderful gadget. Yes, music really is that important. Here's the proof: A blind couple making quite uplifting music. And have you heard of these guys? Their unnamed album (you know, that white one) is one of the best ever made. And while we're on the subject, why is it that popular music so often sucks? Is it any wonder it's all going down the drain? Do you believe me if I say that someone asked me, just the other day, who the Beatles are? I thought not. But I swear it's the truth. No, really. I'm not saying everone should like them (even though I will think you're a moron if you don't), but one should at least recognize their impact on modern music. Oh, wait. Did I just say no more ranting? Bah, let's be honest: That's what you come here for.
(The author would like to apologize for any badly written, unfunny, or just plain rude parts of this post. Well, not really.)
October 24, 2005
MovieMania!
(Post presented here as originally concocted late last night, when Blogger refused to cooperate)
Once in a while, I thoroughly enjoy watching a movie. Most of you know the feeling; that a great movie is precious, and when you see one you think to yourself: 'Damn! I really ought to own this one (but first I need a job).' If you don't know this feeling, you are probably a pre-programmed zombie devoid of any actual opinions. If you find yourself often thinking, 'wow, those CGI explosions are really cool', or if you thought that the plot twists in Wild Things were pretty clever (here's a link, since you've (hopefully) forgotten that stinking pile of dreadfulness), please sit down in a corner and shut up until the end of this post.
Resuming original thoughts: Once in a while, they say. Now and then. You don't see this sort of celluloid art often. It is the law of averages (or something); to find a great movie, you need to sit through 5 decent ones and 20 dreadful ones.
Well, stick that law up my arse, 'cause I've had one of my best movie months in a very, very long time. In no particular order:
The House of Sand and Fog - alright, so it's been over a month. Still, with work and all, I've seen so few movies lately that I'm allowed to cheat. If you don't like it, go make your own blog and stick it up your arse.
Sideways - pretty straight-forward, but still immensely entertaining. How come depression is so fun in the movies, when in reality it's not?
Kung-fu Hustle - crazy fun, violent and beautiful.
Shaolin Soccer - not nearly as beautiful (nor as violent) as Hustle, but way more laughs. Chow is cooler than a billion Jackie Chans with their heads up their arses.
The Royal Tenenbaums - oh, okay, so I've seen it before. It's still borderline genius and funnier than all the minions of hell crammed up your grandmothers arse.
Lost in Translation - funny, beautiful, and calm like the ocean. The calm ocean, that is.
American Splendor - funny and touching. I'm starting to run out of adjectives here.
Mystic River - actually a bit disappointing, mystery-wise, but the actors are cracking and it's damn good in most of the ways that count.
Next up is the Good, the Bad and the Ugly, a Very Long Engagement and hopefully even more Murray madness with Broken Flowers and Life Under Water. Plus, again hopefully, Hitchhiker's Guide, the two new Burton films, Violent Cop, Oldboy, Stalker and a number of others. I feel like I'm on a roll.
I couldn't be bothered providing links for the entire list, just go search IMDB if you're curious. Lazy sons of bitches.
Word of the day: Arse.
By the way, I just saw one of the stupidest things I have seen in a while. First off, some background: Because of a rather gross turn of events, I removed the trash can from it's usual spot under the sink and washed it. Thinking it would dry sooner, I left it on the warm, cozy bathroom floor, informing my fellow residents that such an action had been taken. Apparently, one of them got the sudden urge to throw something away, which is, of course, understandable in today's society. Naturally, he put the trashcan back where it belongs and neatly filled it with a plastic bag. Wait a second.. actually, he did neither of those two things. He just sorta stuck a bag in it, which leads me to the conclusion that somewhere in this aparment lives a very lazy man. And this time it's not me.
Once in a while, I thoroughly enjoy watching a movie. Most of you know the feeling; that a great movie is precious, and when you see one you think to yourself: 'Damn! I really ought to own this one (but first I need a job).' If you don't know this feeling, you are probably a pre-programmed zombie devoid of any actual opinions. If you find yourself often thinking, 'wow, those CGI explosions are really cool', or if you thought that the plot twists in Wild Things were pretty clever (here's a link, since you've (hopefully) forgotten that stinking pile of dreadfulness), please sit down in a corner and shut up until the end of this post.
Resuming original thoughts: Once in a while, they say. Now and then. You don't see this sort of celluloid art often. It is the law of averages (or something); to find a great movie, you need to sit through 5 decent ones and 20 dreadful ones.
Well, stick that law up my arse, 'cause I've had one of my best movie months in a very, very long time. In no particular order:
The House of Sand and Fog - alright, so it's been over a month. Still, with work and all, I've seen so few movies lately that I'm allowed to cheat. If you don't like it, go make your own blog and stick it up your arse.
Sideways - pretty straight-forward, but still immensely entertaining. How come depression is so fun in the movies, when in reality it's not?
Kung-fu Hustle - crazy fun, violent and beautiful.
Shaolin Soccer - not nearly as beautiful (nor as violent) as Hustle, but way more laughs. Chow is cooler than a billion Jackie Chans with their heads up their arses.
The Royal Tenenbaums - oh, okay, so I've seen it before. It's still borderline genius and funnier than all the minions of hell crammed up your grandmothers arse.
Lost in Translation - funny, beautiful, and calm like the ocean. The calm ocean, that is.
American Splendor - funny and touching. I'm starting to run out of adjectives here.
Mystic River - actually a bit disappointing, mystery-wise, but the actors are cracking and it's damn good in most of the ways that count.
Next up is the Good, the Bad and the Ugly, a Very Long Engagement and hopefully even more Murray madness with Broken Flowers and Life Under Water. Plus, again hopefully, Hitchhiker's Guide, the two new Burton films, Violent Cop, Oldboy, Stalker and a number of others. I feel like I'm on a roll.
I couldn't be bothered providing links for the entire list, just go search IMDB if you're curious. Lazy sons of bitches.
Word of the day: Arse.
By the way, I just saw one of the stupidest things I have seen in a while. First off, some background: Because of a rather gross turn of events, I removed the trash can from it's usual spot under the sink and washed it. Thinking it would dry sooner, I left it on the warm, cozy bathroom floor, informing my fellow residents that such an action had been taken. Apparently, one of them got the sudden urge to throw something away, which is, of course, understandable in today's society. Naturally, he put the trashcan back where it belongs and neatly filled it with a plastic bag. Wait a second.. actually, he did neither of those two things. He just sorta stuck a bag in it, which leads me to the conclusion that somewhere in this aparment lives a very lazy man. And this time it's not me.
October 19, 2005
Welcome back, me
Hello all. It's been quite a while. For the last two weeks I've been living at work, as previously mentioned. My life, as I knew it, completely out of reach, refusing to wait for my return. And now, the struggle to reclaim it has barely begun. I have had some not especially exciting adventures during that time, however, and of course I'm going to share them with you. But for now, let me just welcome myself back into the real world. Hello, me.
October 03, 2005
A hard day's night
For the next two weeks I will be living at a Norwegian hypermarket called Smart Club. I will eat there, shit there, but most importantly, make a wad of cash there. Yes, not-so-dear readers, I have once again joined the ranks of the employed, and for approxomately 144 hours spread over 12 days I will earn the dough needed to salt my eggs. In case you flunked math, that's 12 hours each and every day, hence the living and shitting mentioned above.
Today was the longest one, checking in at 14 hours. Ouch. So if the blog updates become a bit random the next couple of weeks, you now know the reason. 'Nuff said, off to bed.
Today was the longest one, checking in at 14 hours. Ouch. So if the blog updates become a bit random the next couple of weeks, you now know the reason. 'Nuff said, off to bed.
September 29, 2005
Celebrate the modern end
First of all: If you are situated in Norway, I hope you caught the first episode of the new Doctor Who series yesterday. It's very entertaining, but in a good way.
Second: I missed the 5-year celebration of the Palestinian intifada yesterday, because I went shopping. How's that for irony?
Second: I missed the 5-year celebration of the Palestinian intifada yesterday, because I went shopping. How's that for irony?
September 24, 2005
September 23, 2005
Midnight Rambling
I have decided it is time to rise up and claim that thing which rightfully belongs to me; that thing called respect. Far too long I have muddled around like a dog cooking dinner for its fleas. Never again shall I grant favours to those who demand them from me without first asking, in a small and squeaky voice, "may I have some respect, please?".
My dignity is so cheap, I'm practically giving it away. Come get it while it's hot!
My dignity is so cheap, I'm practically giving it away. Come get it while it's hot!
September 21, 2005
Celebrate we will
Hello, all. It's been a while, hasn't it? The election is over an' all. And the good guys won. Sort of. But I'm leaving the political analysis to someone who dares look the results in the eye, 'cause whenever I try to, I'm reminded that 1 in 5 norwegians are dead stupid. Oh, and that estimate is really only me being nice, because it only includes those who voted for the most populistic, most ridiculous party to ever grow large in Norway. In other words, these are simply the people who, through a massive display of idiocy, have declared themselves unfit to walk around in one piece. Spoiled fuckers.
Anyway, some lighter news: We had a party (of the kind where alcohol takes the place of politics) at the apartment last saturday. It was going to be a moving-in party, but somewhere along the way it just became a normal one with a lot of people in it. The merry event itself was fun, filled with beer and booze, and ended up the way these things should, with people slipping drunkenly in the shower and others passing out all over the livingroom. The hours leading up to it was the stressful part, however. Let me lay it out for you: One came home early saturday morning and slept through the day. Another ran around the apartment, nervous he wouldn't get laid at the end of the night. Then we had the one shouting "I don't give a fuck!" everytime someone asked her a question. In short, tensions were running high.
And then there was me. Trying to prepare the poor apartment for the onslaught of people (which never happened, by the way) we were expecting. I ended up buying some chips and tossing whatever garbage I could find into the nearest bedroom, while at the same time telling people off left and right. It was glorious. And, I nearly forgot, some mates of mine came early, friday in fact, from places far away, and one of them wanted to go shopping the day of the party. For shoes. After the thirty-second shoe shop visited, he finally gave up. That's when we bought the snacks, and shortly after I found myself showering in cold water while my mates went to sleep in my bedroom. But hey, later I got drunk, so I'm not complaining.
One more thing. Go buy this album. It's funky as hell.
Anyway, some lighter news: We had a party (of the kind where alcohol takes the place of politics) at the apartment last saturday. It was going to be a moving-in party, but somewhere along the way it just became a normal one with a lot of people in it. The merry event itself was fun, filled with beer and booze, and ended up the way these things should, with people slipping drunkenly in the shower and others passing out all over the livingroom. The hours leading up to it was the stressful part, however. Let me lay it out for you: One came home early saturday morning and slept through the day. Another ran around the apartment, nervous he wouldn't get laid at the end of the night. Then we had the one shouting "I don't give a fuck!" everytime someone asked her a question. In short, tensions were running high.
And then there was me. Trying to prepare the poor apartment for the onslaught of people (which never happened, by the way) we were expecting. I ended up buying some chips and tossing whatever garbage I could find into the nearest bedroom, while at the same time telling people off left and right. It was glorious. And, I nearly forgot, some mates of mine came early, friday in fact, from places far away, and one of them wanted to go shopping the day of the party. For shoes. After the thirty-second shoe shop visited, he finally gave up. That's when we bought the snacks, and shortly after I found myself showering in cold water while my mates went to sleep in my bedroom. But hey, later I got drunk, so I'm not complaining.
One more thing. Go buy this album. It's funky as hell.
September 09, 2005
You're listening to the streets
I have yet another bone to pick with polical advertising and the fuckers behind it. This morning, you see, one of my flatmates got a text message saying vote for us because yadda-yadda-yadda, with a personal greeting from one of the party's leaders. Oh-kay. My hope is that these types of lows will have the opposite effect (NO-VOTE-FOR-YOU), but sadly I doubt that's going to happen. So put this in your text message and smoke it: You Are Scum. You Exploit People's Lack of Intelligence and Ability to Think for Themselves. You Will Die Alone and You Will Go to Hell if There Is One.
Another form of advertising, which those of you who check blog comments may have noticed, is just as annoying but far more retarded. My smug smile was quickly changed to an angry frown when i discovered that the first comment from someone I don't know actually was a disguised advertisement. So you've bookmarked my blog, have you? Then read this: You're systematically going to fail at everything you attempt to do in life. The people you prefer to hang with will, eventually, grow tired of your half-assed attempts at being funny, and the people you can't stand will become your new best friends.
And now it's time for what today's blog is supposed to be about: The streets. While tha artist by the same name is excellent and should be heard by all, I'm talking about this: The actual streets. In case you're not norwegian or just clueless, Norway has gotten it's own version of The Big Issue. It's called =Oslo and, having checked it out myself, is definately worth your attention and money.
This I was planning to write this morning while reading the magazine and downing ridiculous amounts of coffee. Then I went outside. What I saw was, to me, deeply affecting and definitely one of those experiences where you learn something about yourself. The situation was quite simple: Some guys throwing another guy around, beating him, while he yelled for help and we all moved the fuck on. It sure as hell wasn't pleasant, but the worst part, naturally, was my own reaction (or rather, lack of). Anyway, their logic was, according to the shouting, this: The guy owed them money, so they had the right to beat him senseless. 'Flawed' doesn't even begin to describe their reasoning. Then again, if one has the problem-solving capabilities of a pitbull then this may be the closest they've come to a meaningful conversation since their mothers tried to get them off their tits. Either way, if God indeed created Man he sure didn't put a lot of work into it.
I went looking for the darker side of Oslo in my imagination, but it seems like reality has paid attention. Let's see if it can keep up.
(Edit) I'm leaving the comment spam untouched for public viewing. I also feel that if someone is inane enough to actually fall for it, they deserve whatever misfortune life throws at them.
Another form of advertising, which those of you who check blog comments may have noticed, is just as annoying but far more retarded. My smug smile was quickly changed to an angry frown when i discovered that the first comment from someone I don't know actually was a disguised advertisement. So you've bookmarked my blog, have you? Then read this: You're systematically going to fail at everything you attempt to do in life. The people you prefer to hang with will, eventually, grow tired of your half-assed attempts at being funny, and the people you can't stand will become your new best friends.
And now it's time for what today's blog is supposed to be about: The streets. While tha artist by the same name is excellent and should be heard by all, I'm talking about this: The actual streets. In case you're not norwegian or just clueless, Norway has gotten it's own version of The Big Issue. It's called =Oslo and, having checked it out myself, is definately worth your attention and money.
This I was planning to write this morning while reading the magazine and downing ridiculous amounts of coffee. Then I went outside. What I saw was, to me, deeply affecting and definitely one of those experiences where you learn something about yourself. The situation was quite simple: Some guys throwing another guy around, beating him, while he yelled for help and we all moved the fuck on. It sure as hell wasn't pleasant, but the worst part, naturally, was my own reaction (or rather, lack of). Anyway, their logic was, according to the shouting, this: The guy owed them money, so they had the right to beat him senseless. 'Flawed' doesn't even begin to describe their reasoning. Then again, if one has the problem-solving capabilities of a pitbull then this may be the closest they've come to a meaningful conversation since their mothers tried to get them off their tits. Either way, if God indeed created Man he sure didn't put a lot of work into it.
I went looking for the darker side of Oslo in my imagination, but it seems like reality has paid attention. Let's see if it can keep up.
(Edit) I'm leaving the comment spam untouched for public viewing. I also feel that if someone is inane enough to actually fall for it, they deserve whatever misfortune life throws at them.
September 08, 2005
Bend over like Beckham
So, here I am, thinking to myself: What the hell am I supposed to blog about today? After a day of moving stuff around (the result is quite nice, only slightly disappointing in that it's not as amazing as I had hoped) I feel rather empty in the bump on top of my body (on other people often referred to as 'brain'). But what do you know! Another friend to the rescue! What is The Question Quest, you might ask. And lo! it's creator has already asked for you, and given a coherent answer, too. Like before, if he keeps it up, he'll most definately go in the left. He's barely funnier than me, but not even half as rude. So by my standards I win. Ha ha! Anyway, go click already.
Friends: Writing about stuff so I don't have to. Gotta love 'em.
What is it like to be lost in a dark, disturbing version of Norway's capital city? I don't know, but I'm planning to go there and find out (no, I'm not talking about the west side). Somewhere inside my head there's a story noone has written. Why must it be me? It's hardly fair.
Friends: Writing about stuff so I don't have to. Gotta love 'em.
What is it like to be lost in a dark, disturbing version of Norway's capital city? I don't know, but I'm planning to go there and find out (no, I'm not talking about the west side). Somewhere inside my head there's a story noone has written. Why must it be me? It's hardly fair.
September 07, 2005
Watch this space
Hello all. It's me again. My, what an insane rate the site was updated all of a sudden, you might think. But, you see, I just found this, which is a friend's blog. It's still in the earlies, only a couple days old, in fact, but it's looking good. If he keeps it up, he might go on the left. But hey, we need some sort of quality control here, right?
Anyway, in sharp contrast to my not-so-humble self, this fellow actually has something to write about. What is this thing, this thing that he writes about, you might ask. But, I won't tell. Then why should I check it out, you might inquire further (at which point you would be starting to annoy me. It's one tiny click, after all). Why, for one thing he's much nicer than me, which is supposed to be a good thing. For another, nothing really encourages a blogger like people actually reading what you've written (believe me, I know). If you need more reasons, how about this: If you do not comply with my command (which is to check out his blog, in case you've forgotten) I will boil your grandmother and eat her as a sidedish to my fishsticks (alright, alright, I'll lay off the grandmothers from now on. Just this one last time, I promise).
So here's another link to his site, just to make sure you don't miss it and your grandmother comes off without a scratch.
And a third time.
And that's it. Now beat it.
Anyway, in sharp contrast to my not-so-humble self, this fellow actually has something to write about. What is this thing, this thing that he writes about, you might ask. But, I won't tell. Then why should I check it out, you might inquire further (at which point you would be starting to annoy me. It's one tiny click, after all). Why, for one thing he's much nicer than me, which is supposed to be a good thing. For another, nothing really encourages a blogger like people actually reading what you've written (believe me, I know). If you need more reasons, how about this: If you do not comply with my command (which is to check out his blog, in case you've forgotten) I will boil your grandmother and eat her as a sidedish to my fishsticks (alright, alright, I'll lay off the grandmothers from now on. Just this one last time, I promise).
So here's another link to his site, just to make sure you don't miss it and your grandmother comes off without a scratch.
And a third time.
And that's it. Now beat it.
Get behind the mule
I just had to chime in and tell you how confusing it is to have good old Tom Waits on my headphones. Here a crash, there a creak, every time I have to turn my head, wondering if any of my flatmates have had some sort of ugly accident. But, of course, it's just his crazed percussion.
Beware of the police at the station. They don't look friendly, methinks.
Beware of the police at the station. They don't look friendly, methinks.
September 06, 2005
New Rules
These people should be shot at birth: People who don't clean up their own mess while living with others. People who work with political advertising. Newspaper editors (and journalists) who treat their readers like kids. I'm tempted to put people in general in this category, but I won't. For now.
The election's closing in, and I've just had my eyebrows waxed. I think that about sums up the general level of political consciousness in Norway. Still, it looks like the left will finally have their day, but of course, it's a left with adjustments (which means, basically, that the largest coalition party is nowhere near the left side of the political asshole-line). Even so, if they get the majority of representatives (in the Storting? Big thing? Unsure of the english term there) we might (I repeat, might) end up with a country that won't sicken me to death before I hit thirty. I suppose the decent thing to do is to encourage people to vote, to have their say no matter what their opinions are. But I'm anything but decent. Here's my advice: Vote for the socialist party, and tie everyone who's planning to do otherwise to a table come election day. Remember that other people actually do exist, and aren't just dreams to be used for your own benefit (as the right-wing parties seem to think). And if you think that's un-democratic or some such nonsense, try this thought on for size: Would you rather that other people voted for their own benefit, or for yours? Socialism is the new sliced bread, make it happen people. I believe in you, just this once.
Some words of wisdom in closing: The earth revolves around the sun. You are not the sun.
The election's closing in, and I've just had my eyebrows waxed. I think that about sums up the general level of political consciousness in Norway. Still, it looks like the left will finally have their day, but of course, it's a left with adjustments (which means, basically, that the largest coalition party is nowhere near the left side of the political asshole-line). Even so, if they get the majority of representatives (in the Storting? Big thing? Unsure of the english term there) we might (I repeat, might) end up with a country that won't sicken me to death before I hit thirty. I suppose the decent thing to do is to encourage people to vote, to have their say no matter what their opinions are. But I'm anything but decent. Here's my advice: Vote for the socialist party, and tie everyone who's planning to do otherwise to a table come election day. Remember that other people actually do exist, and aren't just dreams to be used for your own benefit (as the right-wing parties seem to think). And if you think that's un-democratic or some such nonsense, try this thought on for size: Would you rather that other people voted for their own benefit, or for yours? Socialism is the new sliced bread, make it happen people. I believe in you, just this once.
Some words of wisdom in closing: The earth revolves around the sun. You are not the sun.
September 01, 2005
Some (hopefully) well-known news
In case you haven't followed the news lately (like, I'm ashamed to say, myself), here's a comment on the latest natural disaster to rock the world. I'm not going to make jokes about it, not because I'm in love with the U.S but because as always, it's the poor and the so-called "unfortunate" who suffers. Also, I strongly doubt even the most zealous islamic extremist hates New Orleans. To me, at least, it's always seemed like one of the best things the country of brutes have going for them. And now this. Damn shame's what it is.
Of course, the bastards overseas aren't alone in experiencing tragedies. If we're talking death toll, then Baghdad beats them easy. It's so sad when events like these are simplified for political use. Note to world leaders: Ya can't blame it all on terrorists, fuckers.
One last word: If you thought this post was terribly boring and wonder when there will be more fun and less depressing news, then close your eyes and try to make thoughts in your sad, mis-shaped head for once.
Don't get me wrong, fun will be had by all, eventually. After all, fun's the drug that keeps our heads from exploding while we're watching the world get fucked, right?
Of course, the bastards overseas aren't alone in experiencing tragedies. If we're talking death toll, then Baghdad beats them easy. It's so sad when events like these are simplified for political use. Note to world leaders: Ya can't blame it all on terrorists, fuckers.
One last word: If you thought this post was terribly boring and wonder when there will be more fun and less depressing news, then close your eyes and try to make thoughts in your sad, mis-shaped head for once.
Don't get me wrong, fun will be had by all, eventually. After all, fun's the drug that keeps our heads from exploding while we're watching the world get fucked, right?
August 30, 2005
Morning blues
Today, it is tuesday. The traditional sunday fear and loathing should have gone by now. There is not even the slightest possibility that any alcohol at all still resides in my body. Yet it's there, barely, peeking out from beneath my inner eye. And I blame it all on this: Lack of sleep. I live in an environment severely hostile towards sleep. I'm not the kind of person who's able to sleep seven or eight hours a night and still bounce about like a bumblebee on speed. I really need to do something about my curtain-thingy.
But aside from that, I'm thinking it's about time to stop writing about my mundane everyday experiences. After all, I'm here for your entertainment, since you're all too lazy to step away from your computer. So I'll try to update more often, my social life be damned. But right now, I've got to prepare for two brutal hours of lecture at the university. Oops. I did it again, it would seem. Ponder this while I'm gone: Yesterday I saw a man with boobs, and he wasn't even fat. Scary.
But aside from that, I'm thinking it's about time to stop writing about my mundane everyday experiences. After all, I'm here for your entertainment, since you're all too lazy to step away from your computer. So I'll try to update more often, my social life be damned. But right now, I've got to prepare for two brutal hours of lecture at the university. Oops. I did it again, it would seem. Ponder this while I'm gone: Yesterday I saw a man with boobs, and he wasn't even fat. Scary.
August 18, 2005
On bodily fluids and IKEA
Alright all you dimwitted leprechauns, this is the shit: I am now wireless, moneyless and I have the ability to actually talk into my mobile. Also, I have furniture. Hurray for me! Due to an ill-timed sickness, however, I've been unable to do anything the last couple of days without sprouting goo from my nose all the time. Which includes two quite traumatic visits to IKEA, only one of which resulted in the actual buying of furniture, and the assembly of said furniture.
As for the collective, our actions this last week can perhaps best be likened to those of a headless chicken arguing with itself. Not very coordinated, to say the least. Which brings me to my next point: One of my housemates (the one who most likely infected me with her evil bacteria) wanted to be mentioned in this blog (perhaps expecting something cute? But perhaps not), so here goes my first co-resident presentation: Don't let the sweet looks fool you, this one's a spankin' dominatrix, only without all the leather. Her hobbies probably includes barbecuing cute animals and small boys while laughing maniacally. She was last seen complaining over something. All in all, she's one of the nicer girls out there.
Not much time for spelunking around the internet lately, but I do have one tiny link for you all to check out. Here you will find some music made by an old schoolmate of mine, enjoy.
As for the collective, our actions this last week can perhaps best be likened to those of a headless chicken arguing with itself. Not very coordinated, to say the least. Which brings me to my next point: One of my housemates (the one who most likely infected me with her evil bacteria) wanted to be mentioned in this blog (perhaps expecting something cute? But perhaps not), so here goes my first co-resident presentation: Don't let the sweet looks fool you, this one's a spankin' dominatrix, only without all the leather. Her hobbies probably includes barbecuing cute animals and small boys while laughing maniacally. She was last seen complaining over something. All in all, she's one of the nicer girls out there.
Not much time for spelunking around the internet lately, but I do have one tiny link for you all to check out. Here you will find some music made by an old schoolmate of mine, enjoy.
August 12, 2005
The Imaginary Death of a Salesman
I hate my job. Now, I'm not too thrilled about working in general, but the reason I hate this job so much is simple: I despise people. They're rude, they're foul-smelling, and now I even have to talk to them and put up with all their poison and filth in order to earn money. It's degrading, it is. Of course I mention this only because I had my first headbutt with a tremendously moronic customer (or not, as it were) tuesday. He was pill-poppingly angry at me for some reason, and as such proceeded to yell at me and call me names. Boo hoo. Well, here's what I couldn't say on the phone, but would have loved to:
Dear Moronic Customer: First of all, learn to speak in such a way that people will be able to understand what you are saying. Second, shut the fuck up. I understand that you're confused and have trouble interacting with other human beings, I just don't care. If you're so miserable you have to unload on people doing their job, maybe you should consider getting a divorce. Or a cat if you're single, which I very much suspect is the case. Either way, here's a tip on dealing with people selling you stuff you don't want: Just Say No (Actually, this I did say on the phone). It makes your life easier, and it sure as hell makes me less destructive. (End of rant)
The other day I saw a "Non-stop Delivery" car stopping at a red light, and found it amusing.
Dear Moronic Customer: First of all, learn to speak in such a way that people will be able to understand what you are saying. Second, shut the fuck up. I understand that you're confused and have trouble interacting with other human beings, I just don't care. If you're so miserable you have to unload on people doing their job, maybe you should consider getting a divorce. Or a cat if you're single, which I very much suspect is the case. Either way, here's a tip on dealing with people selling you stuff you don't want: Just Say No (Actually, this I did say on the phone). It makes your life easier, and it sure as hell makes me less destructive. (End of rant)
The other day I saw a "Non-stop Delivery" car stopping at a red light, and found it amusing.
August 05, 2005
Learn skiing for FREE (but not here)
Now I've officially settled in my new apartment. Not all residents are present, however, so the big, juicy conflicts haven't reared their heads just yet. I did encounter a problem in my room, namely that the curtain-thingy refused to stay down, but that was fixed rather quickly with some tape and a skiing accessory. Tell me, what can't some skiing equipment and a little bit of ingenuity fix? Hell if I know.
Although, I imagine if someone falls down the somewhat steep stairs that connects our living room and kitchen, I imagine it'll take more than a couple of slalom boots to fix them up.
Fun fact: According to Wikipedia, skiing was pronounced "she-ing", from Norwegian, in the early 20th century. Oh, alright, maybe the fact wasn't quite as fun as I led on, but who said you're supposed to have fun while learning anyway? You spoiled bastards.
Currently listening to Herbie Hancocks Head Hunters, which is annoying the hell out of one of my housemates. Heh, heh. The simple joys of everyday life..
Although, I imagine if someone falls down the somewhat steep stairs that connects our living room and kitchen, I imagine it'll take more than a couple of slalom boots to fix them up.
Fun fact: According to Wikipedia, skiing was pronounced "she-ing", from Norwegian, in the early 20th century. Oh, alright, maybe the fact wasn't quite as fun as I led on, but who said you're supposed to have fun while learning anyway? You spoiled bastards.
Currently listening to Herbie Hancocks Head Hunters, which is annoying the hell out of one of my housemates. Heh, heh. The simple joys of everyday life..
July 30, 2005
Last Call
Now I'm sitting in my soon-to-be-ex-apartment, listening to Gorillaz using only the speakers God (AKA Dell) gave my laptop. In a way it reminds me of the music from older, PC speaker-only games, only a bit too rich for it's own good. But anyway, tomorrow I have to return my keys, so now I'm picking up the few pieces left and dragging them to my new apartment, which is rather nice. The biggest drawback is the internet situation, which remains somewhat unclear for the time being. So don't expect any immediate updates (not that you did anyway, right?), but make sure to check back in a week or so.
Thought of the day: Just because we think we exist, does that make it true? I know, I know, it's not the most original idea, but I have to leave you bastards with something until I return, right? 'Cause return I shall, and an impact on the world it will have. Maybe just a small impact, extremely tiny even, but hey, I'll take whatever I can get.
Thought of the day: Just because we think we exist, does that make it true? I know, I know, it's not the most original idea, but I have to leave you bastards with something until I return, right? 'Cause return I shall, and an impact on the world it will have. Maybe just a small impact, extremely tiny even, but hey, I'll take whatever I can get.
July 22, 2005
What Women Want (with no Mel Gibson in sight, thank Monkey)
I'm finished with my first week (AKA 2 days) at work and have become immensely tired. Alright, so work in general is exhausting, I get that. But can someone please tell me why, after sitting down for several hours, I'm tired in my legs? To me, at least, that doesn't make a goddamn lick of sense. But then again, I don't feel very bright after repeating the same sentences 69 times.
Also, after spending my breaks at work with mostly girls today, I can proudly say that I've uncovered the truth about women. Yes, gentlemen, I have solved the puzzle which men worldwide have tried to crack throughout all of history. Actually, it's dissappoitingly simple, and I know some of you will smack your foreheads in a minute and cry out "Of course! I knew it!". Which of course you didn't, but that's OK. So now, let me give all of you the answer to the question 'what are women thinking'..
I hope you're paying attention? Good, 'cause here it comes:
Cock.
No need to thank me (although some money would be nice). Just venture out into the great ole world, armed to the teeth with this new, not-so-revolutionary knowledge, and give them what they want. And then all wars will end, and everyone will live happily for the rest of the weekend.
As for me, I have some serious relaxing to do. I think I can hear Knights of the Old Republic calling in the distance.. calling for some brave soul to step up and destroy the whole fucking universe. Today, I'm that soul, so pray for your loved ones before Darth Sleeper comes knocking.
MOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA! (or, if you prefer, ROFL)
Also, after spending my breaks at work with mostly girls today, I can proudly say that I've uncovered the truth about women. Yes, gentlemen, I have solved the puzzle which men worldwide have tried to crack throughout all of history. Actually, it's dissappoitingly simple, and I know some of you will smack your foreheads in a minute and cry out "Of course! I knew it!". Which of course you didn't, but that's OK. So now, let me give all of you the answer to the question 'what are women thinking'..
I hope you're paying attention? Good, 'cause here it comes:
Cock.
No need to thank me (although some money would be nice). Just venture out into the great ole world, armed to the teeth with this new, not-so-revolutionary knowledge, and give them what they want. And then all wars will end, and everyone will live happily for the rest of the weekend.
As for me, I have some serious relaxing to do. I think I can hear Knights of the Old Republic calling in the distance.. calling for some brave soul to step up and destroy the whole fucking universe. Today, I'm that soul, so pray for your loved ones before Darth Sleeper comes knocking.
MOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA! (or, if you prefer, ROFL)
July 21, 2005
Back! And with a new, exciting link
Whaddya know? Now I'm a bastard and getting paid for it. If I call you, please don't hang up. Because I'm giving you the chance of a lifetime..
..or something. Anyways, I've joined the evil ranks of telemarketers now, and although it's not the lowest of the low (it's for a good cause. No, really) it's not exactly the most honorable of professions. But did I mention that it's for a good cause? Besides the fact that I, too, need to eat, I mean.
Before I run, let me welcome the new link to the left, which leads to Bobleboks, an illustration and design company. It's a very small company, but since when did size matter anyway? The owner (and only employee) is a friend of mine, and he assures me he's not into heavy drugs (well, actually I never asked), despite evidence to the contrary. Have a look for yourself, it's mighty fine work.
And so it came to pass that I really had to get ready for work. But rest assured, from now on I'll do a better job at updating this blog. Really, I promise. You've got it in writing now. And as we all know, when something is in writing, it must be true.
..or something. Anyways, I've joined the evil ranks of telemarketers now, and although it's not the lowest of the low (it's for a good cause. No, really) it's not exactly the most honorable of professions. But did I mention that it's for a good cause? Besides the fact that I, too, need to eat, I mean.
Before I run, let me welcome the new link to the left, which leads to Bobleboks, an illustration and design company. It's a very small company, but since when did size matter anyway? The owner (and only employee) is a friend of mine, and he assures me he's not into heavy drugs (well, actually I never asked), despite evidence to the contrary. Have a look for yourself, it's mighty fine work.
And so it came to pass that I really had to get ready for work. But rest assured, from now on I'll do a better job at updating this blog. Really, I promise. You've got it in writing now. And as we all know, when something is in writing, it must be true.
July 11, 2005
Life, or something similar
Just thought I should chime in, since it's been awhile. I'm back, and I'm mostly unharmed. My vacation, in brief: The reunion was disappointingly uneventful. Sure, people disappeared mysteriously and neighbours reported strange lights in the sky, but you know.. there just wasn't any action. It was nice and all, but nothing worth reporting, or even exaggerating. So there.
I am planning to write something rude about Bob Geldof and his grandmother, so there's always a chance I might do that. Also: Finally saw brazilian masterpiece City of God, which you should go see immediately. Spent eleven straight hours watching the American remake of the Kingdom, which you don't really need to see. And I had another rather brutal confrontation with Mother Nature. More on that later. Probably.
I also watched a number of movies (none of them porn) and learned this: Where I'm from, people are so bored, they torture each other for fun (link in Norwegian). Or they torture others, anyway. Ladies and gents, I present to you: Humanity! (mild, unimpressed applause)
Like that big man with the missing brain says, "I'll be back". And soon.
I am planning to write something rude about Bob Geldof and his grandmother, so there's always a chance I might do that. Also: Finally saw brazilian masterpiece City of God, which you should go see immediately. Spent eleven straight hours watching the American remake of the Kingdom, which you don't really need to see. And I had another rather brutal confrontation with Mother Nature. More on that later. Probably.
I also watched a number of movies (none of them porn) and learned this: Where I'm from, people are so bored, they torture each other for fun (link in Norwegian). Or they torture others, anyway. Ladies and gents, I present to you: Humanity! (mild, unimpressed applause)
Like that big man with the missing brain says, "I'll be back". And soon.
June 30, 2005
Who you callin' a fat cow?
Mother Nature Strikes Again! A ladder was mercilessly attacked by a cow yesterday. If, by some strange twist of fate, you don't understand Norwegian, here's the gist of it:
A hired Lithuanian was innocently painting a house (what kind of house? It doesn't say) when the cow known as Monkey (lie) pushed the ladder he was on top of (but not in a sexual way, he claims), causing the man to break both his wrists. He explained what had happened by waving his limp hands around (a sight I would pay dearly to see) since he spoke neither English nor Norwegian. Noone knows what trauma the ladder suffers as a result of this. The police are holding the cow in custody, but have yet to extract a motive. Then again, they're not reading this blog. 'Cause you and I know what happened, don't we? Oh yes we do.
On a completely different note, I'm leaving my dirty den for an unknown amount of time, which means I probably won't update much during next week. Although, if the 5-year high-school anniversary I'm going to turns crazy I might drop a few lines. You just never know.
Also, 'Don't Get Lost in Heaven' has now officially replaced 'Fire Coming Out of the Monkey's Head' as my favourite 'Demon Days' track.
A hired Lithuanian was innocently painting a house (what kind of house? It doesn't say) when the cow known as Monkey (lie) pushed the ladder he was on top of (but not in a sexual way, he claims), causing the man to break both his wrists. He explained what had happened by waving his limp hands around (a sight I would pay dearly to see) since he spoke neither English nor Norwegian. Noone knows what trauma the ladder suffers as a result of this. The police are holding the cow in custody, but have yet to extract a motive. Then again, they're not reading this blog. 'Cause you and I know what happened, don't we? Oh yes we do.
On a completely different note, I'm leaving my dirty den for an unknown amount of time, which means I probably won't update much during next week. Although, if the 5-year high-school anniversary I'm going to turns crazy I might drop a few lines. You just never know.
Also, 'Don't Get Lost in Heaven' has now officially replaced 'Fire Coming Out of the Monkey's Head' as my favourite 'Demon Days' track.
June 29, 2005
Interview With the Vampyre
Let's talk job interviews. My first meeting with this oh-so-crucial aspect of modern civilization was a few weeks ago, as previously mentioned. Then, all of a sudden, I've had three more in the last two days. Now, while today's interview was a quite uplifting affair, the two I had yesterday, both for telemarketing companies, struck me as rather bizarre. Let me count the ways..
The first one was strange in how the interviewers, a man and a woman, had clearly assigned roles. I felt like I was being interrogated, left in a small room, refused water (although in truth, I never asked), and being constantly cross-examined. First off, the man (bad cop) would ask me some questions about my background, personal qualifications and motivation for taking the job. Then he left, and the woman (good cop) came in, asking all sorts of relevant and irrelevant questions, including those I had already been asked, in a friendly manner. About 45 minutes later, another switch.
Bad Cop returned with mostly excactly the same questions, only this time he was quite a bit more aggressive in tone. How many times do I have to say why I want the job, anyway? In the end I felt like shouting out "the money! I'm here for the goddamn money!" but never did.
And yet, despite the 'bad NYPD Blue episode' feel of the whole situation, it was a lot more of an actual interview than the next one. The next one was, you see, something as utterly pointless as a group interview. Me and about nine other people were sitting around a table, trying to resist the urge to masturbate and wondering if that would get us the job. We also had a mini-discussion, regarding Norway's flabby royal line and whether they should be brutally executed or not (I had to argue not, unfortunately). In the end I can't really see what information the Potential Employers could possibly get about us as individuals, but then again, there is no 'I' in 'telemarketing'. Wait, there is. My bad.
Oh, and both interviews lasted for at least one hour. Which is at least 20 minutes too much for a part-time job. No offense meant (take note, because I rarely mean little or no offense), but you Potential Employers really need to ease up a bit. You won't know if someone is fit for the job until they've tried it, no matter how many suits they wear and how much damage their hair is doing to the ozone layer.
About the last interview, however, I've got nothing but good things to say. And so I won't say it, since I know how easily bored you people are.
The first one was strange in how the interviewers, a man and a woman, had clearly assigned roles. I felt like I was being interrogated, left in a small room, refused water (although in truth, I never asked), and being constantly cross-examined. First off, the man (bad cop) would ask me some questions about my background, personal qualifications and motivation for taking the job. Then he left, and the woman (good cop) came in, asking all sorts of relevant and irrelevant questions, including those I had already been asked, in a friendly manner. About 45 minutes later, another switch.
Bad Cop returned with mostly excactly the same questions, only this time he was quite a bit more aggressive in tone. How many times do I have to say why I want the job, anyway? In the end I felt like shouting out "the money! I'm here for the goddamn money!" but never did.
And yet, despite the 'bad NYPD Blue episode' feel of the whole situation, it was a lot more of an actual interview than the next one. The next one was, you see, something as utterly pointless as a group interview. Me and about nine other people were sitting around a table, trying to resist the urge to masturbate and wondering if that would get us the job. We also had a mini-discussion, regarding Norway's flabby royal line and whether they should be brutally executed or not (I had to argue not, unfortunately). In the end I can't really see what information the Potential Employers could possibly get about us as individuals, but then again, there is no 'I' in 'telemarketing'. Wait, there is. My bad.
Oh, and both interviews lasted for at least one hour. Which is at least 20 minutes too much for a part-time job. No offense meant (take note, because I rarely mean little or no offense), but you Potential Employers really need to ease up a bit. You won't know if someone is fit for the job until they've tried it, no matter how many suits they wear and how much damage their hair is doing to the ozone layer.
About the last interview, however, I've got nothing but good things to say. And so I won't say it, since I know how easily bored you people are.
June 27, 2005
Fire Coming Out of the Monkey's Head
I have been meaning to write a mini-review of Gorillaz' latest, Demon Days, but have come to the conclusion that it's pointless. I am able to talk about music for some time, but don't have much love for over-analyzers. There's not much to say about the album, really, other than this: If you have the slightest love for music (and I know people who don't), stop masturbating at once and go buy it. Or go buy it when you're done, I guess that's OK as well. Don't even try downloading it (at least not illegally), because the mountain known as Monkey will know.
Yesterday, I overheard a kid singing ABBA while on the toilet. It was somewhat disturbing, but also tells you everything you need to know about their 'music'.
The mountain has spoken.
Yesterday, I overheard a kid singing ABBA while on the toilet. It was somewhat disturbing, but also tells you everything you need to know about their 'music'.
The mountain has spoken.
June 24, 2005
Fix up, look sharp
Just some words of wisdom: Having no money with which to buy food and assorted edibles sucks. But having no money with which to buy tobacco sucks more.
Also feeling friendly today, so here's a warning: Wes Cravens latest horror (and I don't mean that it's scary), 'Cursed', is not worth your money. It's not even worth your toenail clippings. Trust me, it's not funny or ironic, and it's about as intelligent as my slippers. The acting, meanwhile, would make Ed Wood proud.
Todays nerdspeak: D1zz33 Rasc4l pwns.
Also feeling friendly today, so here's a warning: Wes Cravens latest horror (and I don't mean that it's scary), 'Cursed', is not worth your money. It's not even worth your toenail clippings. Trust me, it's not funny or ironic, and it's about as intelligent as my slippers. The acting, meanwhile, would make Ed Wood proud.
Todays nerdspeak: D1zz33 Rasc4l pwns.
June 23, 2005
Stars. Also, Wars.
Haven't posted in almost a week now. But remember, a true blogger never blogs when he hasn't got anything to blog about.
OK, that one was weak, I admit. You want to hear the somewhat embarassing truth? It's all George Lucas' fault. Well, not really. But my soul has been officially sucked into his blasted sci-fi fantasy universe, and the dirty soulsucker is titled Knights of the Old Republic (a somewhat silly name, I know). Here, the player finally gets a chance to become a true Jedi!
...
Like we've never played a jedi before. Bah, the premise is just as hokey as all the other Star Wars games (I think there's about 335325 SW games on the market now, and tomorrow LucasArts is releasing 750 more, including "Wookie vs. TIE Fighter" and "Sexy Hutts through history: wallpaper collection") but THIS game has been consumed by the Dark Side. It practically terminates your social life as you once knew it. Also, it makes your skin paler, you'll become skinnier, smell fouler and develop several eye diseases from lack of sleep.
What I'm trying to say is, it's fantastic. Hey, at least it's not WoW. One day I'll finish it, maybe even twice, and then I can resume my real life functions.
In other news: Well how the fuck should I know? You were skipping paragraphs again, weren't you?
OK, that one was weak, I admit. You want to hear the somewhat embarassing truth? It's all George Lucas' fault. Well, not really. But my soul has been officially sucked into his blasted sci-fi fantasy universe, and the dirty soulsucker is titled Knights of the Old Republic (a somewhat silly name, I know). Here, the player finally gets a chance to become a true Jedi!
...
Like we've never played a jedi before. Bah, the premise is just as hokey as all the other Star Wars games (I think there's about 335325 SW games on the market now, and tomorrow LucasArts is releasing 750 more, including "Wookie vs. TIE Fighter" and "Sexy Hutts through history: wallpaper collection") but THIS game has been consumed by the Dark Side. It practically terminates your social life as you once knew it. Also, it makes your skin paler, you'll become skinnier, smell fouler and develop several eye diseases from lack of sleep.
What I'm trying to say is, it's fantastic. Hey, at least it's not WoW. One day I'll finish it, maybe even twice, and then I can resume my real life functions.
In other news: Well how the fuck should I know? You were skipping paragraphs again, weren't you?
June 18, 2005
The bitch is back, also vengeful
I went outside today, and shortly after I was brutally set upon by a bush. But this was no ordinary bush, not even the kind that drops bombs on you when you're not looking. No, dear/damn reader, this was the sort to chase one around Oslo screaming, which is exactly what it did, and typically noone even tried to help me. So anyways, what I learned from that unfortunate event is this: Going Outside is bad. It's unlikely I'll try it again anytime soon.
But what, you may, no, shall ask, would cause an otherwise peaceful bush to jump me like that? I have a theory, of course.
It's a vast conspiracy, planned and executed by none other than Mother Nature herself. Listen to this, her plan was quite brilliant: Instead of doing the tired old "zapped by lightning" routine, she employed some of her most trusted agents, mainly the sun and aforementioned bush. The sun had, naturally (oh the puns! the puns!), the most important role. He shone, like the brilliant bastard he is, just to lure me out of the relative safety of this deep, dark hole I call "home". The hook was there, and i gobbled it up, like a pale, bored fish.
Her one mistake, clever in idea though it was, was tasking a bush to to the dirty deed. I got away to tell the tale, and to warn others like me. I suspect, you see, that she simply wanted revenge for all the shit she's had to take over the years.
And if that's the case, you can bet she'll come gunning for you too, and soon. So stay on your toes, and fear Mother Nature.
But what, you may, no, shall ask, would cause an otherwise peaceful bush to jump me like that? I have a theory, of course.
It's a vast conspiracy, planned and executed by none other than Mother Nature herself. Listen to this, her plan was quite brilliant: Instead of doing the tired old "zapped by lightning" routine, she employed some of her most trusted agents, mainly the sun and aforementioned bush. The sun had, naturally (oh the puns! the puns!), the most important role. He shone, like the brilliant bastard he is, just to lure me out of the relative safety of this deep, dark hole I call "home". The hook was there, and i gobbled it up, like a pale, bored fish.
Her one mistake, clever in idea though it was, was tasking a bush to to the dirty deed. I got away to tell the tale, and to warn others like me. I suspect, you see, that she simply wanted revenge for all the shit she's had to take over the years.
And if that's the case, you can bet she'll come gunning for you too, and soon. So stay on your toes, and fear Mother Nature.
June 17, 2005
Realizations
It just hit me like an elephant accidentally stepping on my scrotum: I've spent the entire day reading webcomics. The entire day! Worst part is, I didn't even enjoy them that much. I do, however, suspect that these two factors (entire day spent & not enjoy very very much. Pay attention, people!) are inextricably linked.
I'm looking forward to getting a job, earning some money, and buying myself a life. Hopefully a nice one, but I'll settle for anything.
I'm looking forward to getting a job, earning some money, and buying myself a life. Hopefully a nice one, but I'll settle for anything.
Angry-La: The Epic
Due to a severe lack of will to move I have spent most of the day checking up on webcomics. No longer a rare and wonderful thing, it can indeed be hard to navigate the absurd amounts of endlessly drawn-out "sagas" that go nowhere. But fret not! for I am here to guide you through the wilderness.
Well, not really. But at least I can give you my opinion on the ones I bothered to read through today. My point of origin was Topwebcomics, which has a list of comics to vote for, not necessarily including the, well, top web comics. Still, it's a place to start, and if you're willing to excuse some of the drudgery there's some nice ones available, too.
Second on TWCs list is Inverloch, a seemingly quite traditional fantasy tale with the uneven pacing and sometimes downright annoying dialogue that seems to plague these sorts of comics. Still, I was entertained.
Far better, at least in premise, was the current #3, Earthsong. As of today, however, the story hasn't gotten anywhere, and while the dialogue is mostly better, the pacing is much, much worse.
Girl Genius was a lot of fun, but there wasn't nearly as much material to go through at once. It's quite different from the other two, though.
The problem, at least for me, is that I haven't really got the patience to wait for a new page to be published. I want the whole story, and I want it now. Anyways, go have a look, or don't, I really don't care. You're not going to miss a life-changing work of art, that's for sure, but if you're bored, then by all means: Click like crazy.
Well, not really. But at least I can give you my opinion on the ones I bothered to read through today. My point of origin was Topwebcomics, which has a list of comics to vote for, not necessarily including the, well, top web comics. Still, it's a place to start, and if you're willing to excuse some of the drudgery there's some nice ones available, too.
Second on TWCs list is Inverloch, a seemingly quite traditional fantasy tale with the uneven pacing and sometimes downright annoying dialogue that seems to plague these sorts of comics. Still, I was entertained.
Far better, at least in premise, was the current #3, Earthsong. As of today, however, the story hasn't gotten anywhere, and while the dialogue is mostly better, the pacing is much, much worse.
Girl Genius was a lot of fun, but there wasn't nearly as much material to go through at once. It's quite different from the other two, though.
The problem, at least for me, is that I haven't really got the patience to wait for a new page to be published. I want the whole story, and I want it now. Anyways, go have a look, or don't, I really don't care. You're not going to miss a life-changing work of art, that's for sure, but if you're bored, then by all means: Click like crazy.
Revenge of the Python
I'll make this quick. Just saw the trailer for Terry Gilliams latest, the Brothers Grimm, and became very, very happy. Not only because it has been insanely long (seven damn years, for Darths sake!) since the genius-man got to make his previous film, but also because it looks bloody brilliant.
And here I was thinking the Hitchhiker trailer was lovely. Which is was, of course. Hush, I'm trying to make a point.
Now, go watch it or I'll eat your grandmother.
And here I was thinking the Hitchhiker trailer was lovely. Which is was, of course. Hush, I'm trying to make a point.
Now, go watch it or I'll eat your grandmother.
June 16, 2005
Tennis, WoW, and porn
Now that I've gotten through my very first job interview (no, I'm not 15, just lazy) I really don't have much to do except sit back and wait for a coherent answer. With people playing tennis outside my window all day long I really shouldn't be getting bored any time soon, anyway.
With me getting closer to actually making money this summer I also feel the pull of World of Warcraft, from which I quit some months back to focus on doing stuff in the real world, like having exams. Now, there's really only one reason for going back, and that's playing with my friends and guildies. The problem is, there's not a whole lot to do in WoW, you kill monsters, chat with friends, and then you kill some more monsters. And maybe kill some more monsters after that. The whole thing gets old pretty fast, and with lack of variation comes lack of interest. You do have the option of killing players instead, of course, but since I'll never play enough to compete with the top ranking players, it all seems a bit pointless.
Oh, and it's summer, the sun's all "Hey you fuckers! I'm out here" and I've got a crapload of single-player games I wanna check out. So my next visit to Azeroth will probably be more of a social call than a neverending journey.
On a completely different note, what makes Darth Vader go "noooooooooooooooo!"? Have a look. In other news, Deep Throat may now become a movie. Wait, wasn't it already? Bet that'll create confusion down at the local porn store.
With me getting closer to actually making money this summer I also feel the pull of World of Warcraft, from which I quit some months back to focus on doing stuff in the real world, like having exams. Now, there's really only one reason for going back, and that's playing with my friends and guildies. The problem is, there's not a whole lot to do in WoW, you kill monsters, chat with friends, and then you kill some more monsters. And maybe kill some more monsters after that. The whole thing gets old pretty fast, and with lack of variation comes lack of interest. You do have the option of killing players instead, of course, but since I'll never play enough to compete with the top ranking players, it all seems a bit pointless.
Oh, and it's summer, the sun's all "Hey you fuckers! I'm out here" and I've got a crapload of single-player games I wanna check out. So my next visit to Azeroth will probably be more of a social call than a neverending journey.
On a completely different note, what makes Darth Vader go "noooooooooooooooo!"? Have a look. In other news, Deep Throat may now become a movie. Wait, wasn't it already? Bet that'll create confusion down at the local porn store.
June 13, 2005
Links: The backbone of modern society
So I cut my hair. Turned out there were no demons in there at all, which was a nice surprise. I went from looking like a fluffy hippie to something more along the lines of a crazed, evil football supporter. A refreshing change, I'm sure.
Figured I ought to say something about my pretty pretty links on the side there. Basically it goes like this:
Democracy Now! is an excellent alternative to cookie-cutter news channels. It's also free and downloadable, so what the hell are you doing here reading this? Get over there pronto and check it out!
Darkfall Online looks like it could be a fun and addictive MMORPG. It also looks like it'll give the finger to bigger companies (Blizzard, I'm looking at you) and show them how it's supposed to be done. Personally I tired of my very first MMO in less than two months (it's very likely I'll get back to you on that), so needless to say I'm like, totally psyched, man. Go have a lookie, and be nice to my brother while you are there. Otherwise I'll come after you with my pitchfork of.. um, let's call it "backstabbing"..
Next item: Just Adventure+. If you're a fan of this so-called "dying" games genre, you'll love it. If you're not a fan of adventure games you're a moron. No offense.
The Underdogs is for everyone, moron or no, who likes being able to check out all the games you couldn't afford when you were a noisy little kid. Most are free to download, and I can't think of a single reason not to visit. Except for maybe this "life" thing everyone's going on about.
Finally (at the present time) we have Scary Go Round, one of the few webcomics actually worth reading. Also see The Noob and Scaryduck (neither scary, a duck nor a comic, but fun nonetheless), who aren't on my link list for reasons unknown. But both are worth a good chunk of your time, except that's probably not saying much.
So that's it. Go click. Stop reading.
Figured I ought to say something about my pretty pretty links on the side there. Basically it goes like this:
Democracy Now! is an excellent alternative to cookie-cutter news channels. It's also free and downloadable, so what the hell are you doing here reading this? Get over there pronto and check it out!
Darkfall Online looks like it could be a fun and addictive MMORPG. It also looks like it'll give the finger to bigger companies (Blizzard, I'm looking at you) and show them how it's supposed to be done. Personally I tired of my very first MMO in less than two months (it's very likely I'll get back to you on that), so needless to say I'm like, totally psyched, man. Go have a lookie, and be nice to my brother while you are there. Otherwise I'll come after you with my pitchfork of.. um, let's call it "backstabbing"..
Next item: Just Adventure+. If you're a fan of this so-called "dying" games genre, you'll love it. If you're not a fan of adventure games you're a moron. No offense.
The Underdogs is for everyone, moron or no, who likes being able to check out all the games you couldn't afford when you were a noisy little kid. Most are free to download, and I can't think of a single reason not to visit. Except for maybe this "life" thing everyone's going on about.
Finally (at the present time) we have Scary Go Round, one of the few webcomics actually worth reading. Also see The Noob and Scaryduck (neither scary, a duck nor a comic, but fun nonetheless), who aren't on my link list for reasons unknown. But both are worth a good chunk of your time, except that's probably not saying much.
So that's it. Go click. Stop reading.
June 12, 2005
Demon Days
My hair is really getting in my way these days. It's strange, whenever I motion towards the hair-cutter-thingy it's like there's this tiny voice, screaming "noo! don't cut me plz" which kinda makes it hard to follow through. I have checked for tiny people, but there are none. I have come to the somewhat comforting conclusion that my hair must have taken on a life of its own.
Or, possibly, it's posessed. Which isn't nearly as comforting a thought.
So I'm planning a trip to the local church-place to talk to the local priest-person about testing my hair for demonic ectoplasm (or whatever demons are using for their waterbeds nowadays). And if he finds any I'll just dip my head in the nearest baptismal font and run away whimpering, hopefully surviving the mildly sarcastic remarks the churchgoers throw after me. And, also, the violent aftermath of a sudden exorcism, which is bound to leave some buildings in the immediate area (including said church-place) somewhat scorched. Oh well.
Maybe I should just cut my hair instead.
June 10, 2005
A link to the what?
Let's try this here linkin' stuff. Only problem is, I can't seem to find anything worth linking to today, 'cause the net's all full of shit (thank Lordie for me blog, eh?).
Oh, here we go. Want to start your own radio show? Well I sure don't. Not if it means having to read through all that text.
But hey, hopefully the link is just about hyper enough and therefore working. And in that case I feel I've deserved a vacation for all my hard work. I DID spend the better part of ten minutes figuring this out, after all.
And then a few minutes writing this.
But you just can't be pleased, can you? You demand another link, do you? Spoiled pecker person you. Alright, go here, and don't come back.
And rest assured that I will never, ever link here.
Oh, here we go. Want to start your own radio show? Well I sure don't. Not if it means having to read through all that text.
But hey, hopefully the link is just about hyper enough and therefore working. And in that case I feel I've deserved a vacation for all my hard work. I DID spend the better part of ten minutes figuring this out, after all.
And then a few minutes writing this.
But you just can't be pleased, can you? You demand another link, do you? Spoiled pecker person you. Alright, go here, and don't come back.
And rest assured that I will never, ever link here.
Hurray!
Yes! I'm hip! I'm cutting edge! I'm at the forefront of a new phenomena!
...
What's that you're saying? People have been blogging for years? Really?
...
Oh well.
At least I tried.
So, who am I and why am I starting this blog? None of your damn business. I'm Norwegian, yet I'm writing in English. Deal with it. I'll just start off by saying that for those of you who are still hoping to find a blog worth reading on a daily basis, give it up. Get a life or something. There's a whole bloody world out there, for crying out loud.
...
Still here? Good. Now we've gotten rid of all those damn positive people. Let's talk substance. Here you will learn all you'll ever need to know about the world. All you'll ever need to know about the world is this: It sucks. It's about getting through the day without wondering what the next piece of shit's going to taste like. And that's fine. I mean, if the world was all orgasms and happy sundials, what the hell would I have to write about?
Not much.
So on that happy note, welcome to my blog. If you've made it this far, you're either someone I've told to check this out (that probably means friends, family or whatever) or you're seriously demented and/or bored. So what will this pointless ranting be about? What's the point of pointless, you might ask? Well, for one thing, it'll be a place free of that pesky grammar (something that could be said of the internet in general). Also, I am the king of this pretend-kingdom, situated in a non-existent space of the world, which means I get to sound off. So does everyone else, of course, as long as the scream-and-shout-button works the way it's supposed to.
About that: Please do not expect a polite answer. You won't get it. In fact, you'll probably get the opposite. So let's hear it, who do you want to throw faeces at today?
Oh, and I might say something clever someday, so stick around.
Pretty please?
...
What's that you're saying? People have been blogging for years? Really?
...
Oh well.
At least I tried.
So, who am I and why am I starting this blog? None of your damn business. I'm Norwegian, yet I'm writing in English. Deal with it. I'll just start off by saying that for those of you who are still hoping to find a blog worth reading on a daily basis, give it up. Get a life or something. There's a whole bloody world out there, for crying out loud.
...
Still here? Good. Now we've gotten rid of all those damn positive people. Let's talk substance. Here you will learn all you'll ever need to know about the world. All you'll ever need to know about the world is this: It sucks. It's about getting through the day without wondering what the next piece of shit's going to taste like. And that's fine. I mean, if the world was all orgasms and happy sundials, what the hell would I have to write about?
Not much.
So on that happy note, welcome to my blog. If you've made it this far, you're either someone I've told to check this out (that probably means friends, family or whatever) or you're seriously demented and/or bored. So what will this pointless ranting be about? What's the point of pointless, you might ask? Well, for one thing, it'll be a place free of that pesky grammar (something that could be said of the internet in general). Also, I am the king of this pretend-kingdom, situated in a non-existent space of the world, which means I get to sound off. So does everyone else, of course, as long as the scream-and-shout-button works the way it's supposed to.
About that: Please do not expect a polite answer. You won't get it. In fact, you'll probably get the opposite. So let's hear it, who do you want to throw faeces at today?
Oh, and I might say something clever someday, so stick around.
Pretty please?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)