When we are in Paris, shouldn't we create a Christmas card? You know, one of these tacky (but in our case, classy with a touch of decadence) photo cards people tend to send to any relative they can think of... Us wearing our matching green outfits, Ape with her new sign, anything we can think of!
I like this idea, it'll be like the lovely photo epic of us when we where at Väddö.
2006-12-24
2006-12-20
Life and death, grief and loss.
I was exhausted when I got home yesterday. And it wasn't only the dehydration, hunger and tummy-aching from excessive laughter which usually hits me in a convulsive manner after spending hours together with the Oddballs. No! This peculiarity was mixed with anguish.
It made me wander about restlessly in my house, eat way too many vegetables and non-sleep through the first half of the night. Then it hit me.
My twin soul must have died yesterday.
I have
no
other
explanation.
I have never believed in such what-may-seem-like-bogus before but I find myself to be in a very sensitive and susceptible state right now. Somewhere in the world, something terrible happened and Pedro or Polly or Carmen left, not only the world but, at the very same moment, her unknown and sensitive Swedish twin soul. It is sad.
That's why I'm going to thoroughly read the two copies of The Watchtower magazine that Lolita so conveniently gave me for christmas, turn into a Witness and, thanks to new conviction, no longer suffer from the sudden loss of my twin soul.
Conclusion: The world is a wondrous place filled with useable solutions for everyone.
It made me wander about restlessly in my house, eat way too many vegetables and non-sleep through the first half of the night. Then it hit me.
My twin soul must have died yesterday.
I have
no
other
explanation.
I have never believed in such what-may-seem-like-bogus before but I find myself to be in a very sensitive and susceptible state right now. Somewhere in the world, something terrible happened and Pedro or Polly or Carmen left, not only the world but, at the very same moment, her unknown and sensitive Swedish twin soul. It is sad.
That's why I'm going to thoroughly read the two copies of The Watchtower magazine that Lolita so conveniently gave me for christmas, turn into a Witness and, thanks to new conviction, no longer suffer from the sudden loss of my twin soul.
Conclusion: The world is a wondrous place filled with useable solutions for everyone.
2006-12-17
2006-12-16
2006-12-15
2006-11-21
The Violence Within
After reading about Mousse's dream I kept thinking about violence. Then when I came home and looked through the pictures on my laptop (trying to fund one for this new treny place called Facebook), it hit me. We have a violent person amongst us and I was rather surprised to find out whom it was. Is it Mousse with her big words? Is it Lolita with her attitude and army training? Is it me with my arrogancy? Nope! It's Tiny.
I was rather amused to realise that in more than one photo she is pummelling one of us. From the innocent face punch, to the throttling and even the fully body pounce. It's too bad I don't have a photo from "Knutmasso", her and Lolita didn't stop until they were both in a mixed up pile on the frozen ground with a million of tiny leek fragments surrounding them.
2006-11-19
Red hair - for the true pacifist
So we are in this room, when suddenly people come in and threaten us with big weapons. They say we have to join the war. They turn to Tiny, say she has to join. She seems to accept. They turn to Lolita, who by the way looks exactly like Vasquez in Aliens, and ask her if she is "the girl with the machine gun" Lolita nods gravely and we all understand she will join them in the war. They turn to me. Since I have just escaped from the war (where the enemy had buried me in snow until I could almost not breathe) I try to ignore them by collecting colorful rubber bands on the floor. They point their guns at me and say I have to join anyway, and I think I might be crying a little. Then they turn to Ape, she looks hopeful, but the people with the big guns are silent. Then they say something about red hair, security reasons and orders from headquarters and at that moment, we all understand they won't admit someone with red hair. She's simply too visible.
I dream. I blog.
Edit: Vasquez toy girl
I dream. I blog.
Edit: Vasquez toy girl
2006-11-15
Half a YouTube-list by Mousse
Tonight. You.
Tim Curry Slideshow
It must be bunnies!
My current obsession.
Roland lagar mat
And finally, Ape's contribution: Stewie Loves Lois (yeah, so I couldn't even make half a list without your aid.)
Tim Curry Slideshow
It must be bunnies!
My current obsession.
Roland lagar mat
And finally, Ape's contribution: Stewie Loves Lois (yeah, so I couldn't even make half a list without your aid.)
2006-11-10
2006-11-06
Toilet Usage
I've been thinking, like I do and we human beings seek perfection. It's what we do, we constantly try to perfect ourselves, our actions and our world. Which made me wonder, can you perfect toilet usage? It's not something we discuss because it for some reason is seen as taboo, but in reality using the toilet is something we do a lot. Then you would think that there would be a strive to perfect this usage, wouldn't you?
To make things a little simpler, lets pretend a normal human being start using the toilet from the age of 5 and lives until his or hers 75 birthday, that would be 70 years experience. Then lets pretend that the normal person uses the toilet 4 times a day, 365 days a year, leaving us with the equation (4x365)x70=102 200. That would mean that you will have used the toilet over a hundred thousand times in your life time. Then would it make sense that there is a toilet usage peak, that at some age span you are best at it? Also I can'r help wonder if there is someone out there that washes their hands and thinks to themselves "I will never use the toilet as perfectly again".
It's strange, but I can't help wonder.
To make things a little simpler, lets pretend a normal human being start using the toilet from the age of 5 and lives until his or hers 75 birthday, that would be 70 years experience. Then lets pretend that the normal person uses the toilet 4 times a day, 365 days a year, leaving us with the equation (4x365)x70=102 200. That would mean that you will have used the toilet over a hundred thousand times in your life time. Then would it make sense that there is a toilet usage peak, that at some age span you are best at it? Also I can'r help wonder if there is someone out there that washes their hands and thinks to themselves "I will never use the toilet as perfectly again".
It's strange, but I can't help wonder.
2006-11-05
Dilemma.
I just watched RHPS for the twelfth time or so. The beauty of it almost made me cry.
Anyway, I know we've established that I would play the role of Rocky in our own future Oddball production of it. However, today it struck me that I am as much a misunderstood blonde with oily skin as I am Columbia's groupie girl with desirous glances towards Frank's crotch.
Discuss!
Anyway, I know we've established that I would play the role of Rocky in our own future Oddball production of it. However, today it struck me that I am as much a misunderstood blonde with oily skin as I am Columbia's groupie girl with desirous glances towards Frank's crotch.
Discuss!
2006-11-04
2006-11-03
2006-11-02
Fact.
- Överreklamerat: Mums Mums
- Underreklamerad: Skotte
- Överreklamerad: Katt
- Underreklamerat: Näbbdjur
- Överreklamerat: Tacos
- Underreklamerat: Smör
- Överreklamerat: Kommunism
- Underreklamerad: Ondska
- Överreklamerat: Kaffe latte
- Underreklamerat: Ljummet vatten
- Överreklamerat: Blogging
- Underreklamerat: Mobbing
2006-10-26
Leva's Polka
Attended a party last Saturday when suddenly they decided to play Leva's Polka and show some kind of affixed video. Despite my acute sobriety (unfortunately mixed with total exhaustion from doing Högskoleprovet) I experienced something dangerously close to a frenzy. I missed the time in Århus, I missed my Oddballs, I missed alcohol. Mostly I missed alcohol. And leek. Yet all I could do was to sit rocking to and fro on a sofa, put my hands over my smiling mouth and try not to shout out loud. People stared at me while Britta attempted to explain my behaviour by mumbling something about "Elsa and her *friends*, they... uhm... they really like leek."
I got over it. I had some coffee and Kexchoklad. What I didn't get over, however, is that this person, who almost exclusively listens to heavy metal, had Leva's Polka on his computer. I mean, if he's got it, then who doesn't? Think of all the people who can't possibly appreciate a leek for what it is.
If you haven't already seen it, the video featured Holly Dolly the cow-like whore. Extremely tasteless. But at least you can glimpse sweet leek girl in the background.
Anywho, my point is, it turned out exactly like we feared.
I got over it. I had some coffee and Kexchoklad. What I didn't get over, however, is that this person, who almost exclusively listens to heavy metal, had Leva's Polka on his computer. I mean, if he's got it, then who doesn't? Think of all the people who can't possibly appreciate a leek for what it is.
If you haven't already seen it, the video featured Holly Dolly the cow-like whore. Extremely tasteless. But at least you can glimpse sweet leek girl in the background.
Anywho, my point is, it turned out exactly like we feared.
2006-10-24
I don't know what you mean by that
I don't do literarly.
There is something in my head that prevents me from seeing things as for what they truly are and instead my mind feels a need to explore and see what could be.
Why can I never appreciate a thing for what it is and move on?
To some extent I do blame the Oddballs for this constant metaphor-syndrome that I seem to suffer from. Because I do know that the company of my friends will alter the very fabric of reality and when we spend time together we are never in the present reality, but in one created by and for us.
However it is not just the Oddballs fault I suffer from this, my sister is just as big and accomplice in this matter. She brings out that metaphor thing, but in the sense that she never sees it until I tell her about it, which I feel a need to do when she's being her usual clueless self.
Don't expect me to take anything you say literarlly, because I will twist your words and have them mean what I want them to. As long as we're clear on that I think I can survive despite this syndrome.
There is something in my head that prevents me from seeing things as for what they truly are and instead my mind feels a need to explore and see what could be.
Why can I never appreciate a thing for what it is and move on?
To some extent I do blame the Oddballs for this constant metaphor-syndrome that I seem to suffer from. Because I do know that the company of my friends will alter the very fabric of reality and when we spend time together we are never in the present reality, but in one created by and for us.
However it is not just the Oddballs fault I suffer from this, my sister is just as big and accomplice in this matter. She brings out that metaphor thing, but in the sense that she never sees it until I tell her about it, which I feel a need to do when she's being her usual clueless self.
Don't expect me to take anything you say literarlly, because I will twist your words and have them mean what I want them to. As long as we're clear on that I think I can survive despite this syndrome.
2006-10-11
How utterly considerate
So I was brushing my teeth yesterday. Now that’s something I do practically every night. Ha. Practically every night. Practical! Anywho, during this particular toothbrush-session, I was pondering about whether my co-workers will feel obliged to give me something, presumably flowers, when I leave them and my job in December. I settled for “probably not” but couldn’t help speculating about what kind of flowers I probably would not get. And don’t stop reading now, because this is an interesting fact. Not eyebrowraisingly interesting, but at least...
Hm. I seriously think the word interesting was an exaggeration. I am sorry.
Oh well. All I wanted to say was that we usually give people flowers in pots, and not cut flowers in bouquets.
Why?
Because we’re considerate.
It’s painful to see flowers rot and decay in their vase, still you can’t throw them away before you see any sign of death. Such a quandary. Flowers in pots, however, are meant to live and, most often, flourish and are therefore more suitable to give to someone you like and appreciate. (The possibility of flowers in pots giving their masters OCD because of their apparent need for water and care has been entirely disregarded by the author, i.e. me.)
That’s why the gorgeous but short-lived cut flowers are mainly given (in abundance) to people at their very funeral. Or, in smaller amounts, when they for some reason have awoken jealousy and/or bitterness in other people. I’m talking graduations, weddings or tv-appearances.
It’s all extremely obvious to me.
I know Ape, I was supposed to post something on the Danes, their close to obsessive love of pork and their now somewhat logical hostility towards Muslims. But I thought about it and came to the conclusion that neither topic was very oddball but flowers were more contemporary.
Hm. I seriously think the word interesting was an exaggeration. I am sorry.
Oh well. All I wanted to say was that we usually give people flowers in pots, and not cut flowers in bouquets.
Why?
Because we’re considerate.
It’s painful to see flowers rot and decay in their vase, still you can’t throw them away before you see any sign of death. Such a quandary. Flowers in pots, however, are meant to live and, most often, flourish and are therefore more suitable to give to someone you like and appreciate. (The possibility of flowers in pots giving their masters OCD because of their apparent need for water and care has been entirely disregarded by the author, i.e. me.)
That’s why the gorgeous but short-lived cut flowers are mainly given (in abundance) to people at their very funeral. Or, in smaller amounts, when they for some reason have awoken jealousy and/or bitterness in other people. I’m talking graduations, weddings or tv-appearances.
It’s all extremely obvious to me.
I know Ape, I was supposed to post something on the Danes, their close to obsessive love of pork and their now somewhat logical hostility towards Muslims. But I thought about it and came to the conclusion that neither topic was very oddball but flowers were more contemporary.
2006-09-29
Copenhagen, Kastrup Airport, last Monday afternoon...
Tiny and Mousse are at the airport, four hours before takeoff, carelessly spending their time learning how to manage their amazing luggage cart, when suddenly they walk past a candy store...
Tiny: Whoa, you just smiled at that little girl.
Mousse: Yes.
Tiny: You love children!
Mousse: It really wasn't that kind of smile.
Tiny: I saw you! Elsa wants to get PREGnant! Elsa wants to get PREGnant! Followed by Tiny doing a frantic little dance and Mousse looking awkward and steering the cart away from the scene, with difficulty.
I will post something more useful. Someday.
Tiny: Whoa, you just smiled at that little girl.
Mousse: Yes.
Tiny: You love children!
Mousse: It really wasn't that kind of smile.
Tiny: I saw you! Elsa wants to get PREGnant! Elsa wants to get PREGnant! Followed by Tiny doing a frantic little dance and Mousse looking awkward and steering the cart away from the scene, with difficulty.
I will post something more useful. Someday.
2006-08-29
Regarding our planned engendering of a marching band...
It's a great idea, Ape with the bongo, Tiny with the piccolo, me with the glittery spirit stick and Lolita somehwere in the back looking cheap and glum. A truly great idea. Except for our total lack of musicality.
Another great idea, possibly even greater, is that we pick a song - a catchy, cool one - and perform a synchronized dance. Picture the scene! It's late, but the party hasn't really begun. After some urgent demands from the public, or the masses, Lolita reluctantly takes out an oldass CD player with a decent speaker system and a bicycle generator for Lolita to pedal. Ape presses PLAY. Twice I beat with the stave in my hand and the Oddballs line up in a row. The funky intro of our catchy song reaches a certain steady beat and we discreetly nod our heads synchronously. What follows next is a wondrous chain of magic events that makes the masses understand that it takes an Oddball to be an Oddball. I'm talking indecent movements of hips, unisonous twitchy-arms, altitudinous throwing of Tiny, and dead serious leek action. All in tune to the music.
Girls, I think I'm on to something. We can do this. I know we still lack musical ability. And will. Still, think about how divinely awesome it would be to have a dance to blaze away on some inappropriate occasion or other.
Ja?
Another great idea, possibly even greater, is that we pick a song - a catchy, cool one - and perform a synchronized dance. Picture the scene! It's late, but the party hasn't really begun. After some urgent demands from the public, or the masses, Lolita reluctantly takes out an oldass CD player with a decent speaker system and a bicycle generator for Lolita to pedal. Ape presses PLAY. Twice I beat with the stave in my hand and the Oddballs line up in a row. The funky intro of our catchy song reaches a certain steady beat and we discreetly nod our heads synchronously. What follows next is a wondrous chain of magic events that makes the masses understand that it takes an Oddball to be an Oddball. I'm talking indecent movements of hips, unisonous twitchy-arms, altitudinous throwing of Tiny, and dead serious leek action. All in tune to the music.
Girls, I think I'm on to something. We can do this. I know we still lack musical ability. And will. Still, think about how divinely awesome it would be to have a dance to blaze away on some inappropriate occasion or other.
Ja?
2006-08-19
My Sexuality?
Stole this interesting quiz from Ape. It screamed, and begged me to click trough it, I couldn't resist, the temptation made me... weak, and, so.. I gave in.
So, this is me... Lolita. felt like I had to post this... um, lovable pic, just because... I like it.
 | You scored as The Femme Fatale. You're carefree, dark and adventurous...and slightly fatale to the heart.
What Type of Lesbian Are You? (Inspired by Curve Mag.) created with QuizFarm.com |
So, this is me... Lolita. felt like I had to post this... um, lovable pic, just because... I like it.
My lover is a white, eighteen year old bohemian...
Yeah, so I bought a car last Monday. It's old and it's used and all the four Oddballs probably won't fit inside it at the same time. But I ask you to embrace it and love it as if it was a kitten. A very small kitten with very bad leukemia, who lacks both cat-mother and cat-father. Because that's what it looks like. It is also French, which makes it bohemian, which makes it lovable.
Mark how I refer to my baby as "it". Other cars I've come to know and driven I've always imagined being of some kind of masculine breed. With the stick shift and all. However, this car is so asexually tiny I find myself thinking of it as a child. It even says JUNIOR in pastel-colored letters on the trunk. And you know me, I'm not much of a pedophile. Hence it cannot be a he. Still it cannot be a she. Because if it was, I would have to treat it like a bitch and not change gear with my usually so sensitive hand. Not good.
No, it will have to stay an androgynous kitty for the rest of its auto life. Sad but tru-hue.
I also bought a kickass pair of furry moonboots to go with it.
Now I am broke.
2006-08-15
Ape's Youtube List
So here I am with my youtube post.
It's like imdb, but with short ridiculous film clips and I can spend hours on it.
Found this little short clip and there's nothing special about it, but replace the sandwich with alcohol and this could be my friend Lolita (only she's more Lolita and slightly older and female)
Lolita lookalike
Speaking of Lolita. Life imitating art imitating life? Need to watch it again, cause it was just so spot on. Dorian and Yanki, that's me.
Kamikaze Girls
[Edit] Oh there's even a fanvid
The Way I am
This might just be the cutest thing I've ever seen
Demented Baby-Ape
No, this is the cutest thing I've ever seen
This Man is a God
My favorite Comedy show right now
"Sometimes I harm myself or others. Other than that we have a great time together."
It's like imdb, but with short ridiculous film clips and I can spend hours on it.
Found this little short clip and there's nothing special about it, but replace the sandwich with alcohol and this could be my friend Lolita (only she's more Lolita and slightly older and female)
Lolita lookalike
Speaking of Lolita. Life imitating art imitating life? Need to watch it again, cause it was just so spot on. Dorian and Yanki, that's me.
Kamikaze Girls
[Edit] Oh there's even a fanvid
The Way I am
This might just be the cutest thing I've ever seen
Demented Baby-Ape
No, this is the cutest thing I've ever seen
This Man is a God
My favorite Comedy show right now
"Sometimes I harm myself or others. Other than that we have a great time together."
2006-08-12
Tribute to the Human God Lookalike
Blanka Vlasic. 22. Irresistible.
Now imagine her in a pair of pink latex gloves...
A Tribute to a Human God
Timothy James Curry
The son of a Methodist Royal Navy chaplain, James, and his wife Patricia, a school secretary. Born on
The man, the myth, the legend.
This is my tribute to Mr Curry, my personal hero and an Oddball role model.
I still remember the first time I saw RHPS, it was magical and it was just at the right time of my life. It was the worst summer of my life and there the movie was. At first I didn’t know how to react to it, it was mind boggling and confused me to no end. Then after a second watch I embraced it and at the same time started embracing a lot of other things.
Then I managed to spread the RHPS love among my friends, and little did I know at that moment that it would become part of Oddball canon. Then with a little help from my friends managed to persuade our Swedish teacher to watch it in class, we watched half of it. Then my teacher ended the class with some line about morally bankrupt characters and we never got to watch the ending.
Now the movie is after party defined. You cool down and relax by clutching that leek close to your heart and let yourself be swept away into the musical wonderland.
But Mr Curry is far more than just RHPS. He’s Rooster, he’s It, he’s Evil personified. Basically he’s just an awesome person.
I just realised that this year he turned 60 and no one seems to have made any fuss about it. This is worth celebrating, this is worth remembering as the year Mr Curry turned 60, and therefore I proclaim this year to be the Tim Curry year. (I’ve got a feeling an Oddball zodiac is going to be created in a very near future.)
You know you love this cutie as well, I just wanna take him home and eat him up
http://youtube.com/watch?v=Bi05zusQwYs&mode=related&search=
There should be more Curry fanvids
2006-08-11
Buff or bluff?
Fun Movie Quiz
Another Fun Movie Quiz
And another one
And don't I come up with the darndest post titles? Man, it's freaking jeopardy standard on my work.
Another Fun Movie Quiz
And another one
And don't I come up with the darndest post titles? Man, it's freaking jeopardy standard on my work.
2006-08-03
How to be an Oddball - Lesson 1
How to be an Oddball - Lesson 1
The Small Things
Being an Oddball is all about the small things and finding immense joy and pleasure in them.
Remember when you were a young child and your imagination made fantastical worlds of the mind a possibility and a reality. That’s the feeling being an Oddball can give back to you.
You need to be able to appreciate the small things in life and in this world in order to experience worlds beyond it. Not until you have opened your mind to the odd and the random will your soul truly be that of an Oddball.
Why only live in the now when you can create memories that are so sweet and marvellous that the sheer thought of them forces you to throw your head back and laugh out loud.
Now you have heard the teachings of the Oddballs, ponder and return to your life a richer person.
2006-08-01
Rest in peace, oh mighty Lord Freelance...
This is what morning brought me - disaster, before I even got a first sip of my morning tea. Two birds, one as dead as a very soft rock, and one mourning and dumbstruck, just outside the glass walls of my balcony. I ate my breakfast ponderously, wondering why I had to begin my day with death.
Unfair or not, I had to do the right thing. I took a deep breath and went out to the winged and shattered couple on the balcony, swiftly knighted the dead one as Lord Freelance of Many Skies and gave his presumably faithful dame the name of Lady Trueheart. Before I took the body away from Lady Trueheart wi
th my plastic bag-covered hand, I promised her that her man would be well taken care of. I dug a grave, six birdfeet down, with my spade, and put the Lordling in it. I found a pretty rock and a pink rose and the funeral was concluded.My only problem now was the lonely birdgirl (or was the lady a boy?) who still had not moved and possibly suffered from internal bleeding or some obscure mental illness (aren't they all?). I decided that what she needed was to get away from the unfortunate spot which she, for some reason (possibly out of shock) had chosen to contaminate with loads of
poop. I put her in an apple tree not too far away and left her there with her lax body and panic-stricken eyes. Planning for a new life, far away from glass balconies, or dying, only to join Lord Freelance, I don't know.You might find me crude and inhuman for documenting this tragedy. But for their deeds they shall be remembered, as I would have wanted, had I gone through what they have.
So fly freely, Lord Freelance and cry dryly Lady Trueheart, for life is unfair and you never know when you will hit that window that will break your neck.
Edit: I know that you don't exactly knight someone into a Lord. But it was birds! It's a whole other world, them birds. I mean, they fly! Plus, I really like the verb. To knight someone.
2006-07-26
The Oddball way, or the highway.
Gick på promenad härom kvällen och fick syn på denna skylt. Idag tog jag med kameran.
Det är så härligt, att vissa saker måste märkas ut så tydligt, för att inte riskera att passera förbi obemärkta. Precis som vi. Ganska så jävla oansenliga, men pratar ständigt upp vår unicitet till tusen.
In English: We are pretentious.
2006-07-25
It's dwarfs!
As some of you might be aware of, I do not like short people. It's not hate, not at all. No, it's just a general fright of the people who, for some reason, talk to my belly button instead of my face. I can't explain why. Exactly like I can't explain why I almost fainted when I watched Abctraqt donate blood a couple of years ago. I know it's good, even necessary, yet so goddamn unnatural. Just like midgets.
I don't think I've ever met a midget. But then, I've never donated blood either. So that's not it.
But I've been thinking lately. Yeah, or... the last hour or so. Anyway, I think the world needs more midgets. Seriously, they can do lots of stuff. With their tight little bodies, their even little fingers and their - in all likelihood - great will of showing the world how useful they actually are.
See, I have this antenna on the roof, and there's this sort of grapevine branch that has twisted itself around it and thus disturbs the transmission. Highly annoying. Sure, I could take out the old ladder, climb up there with a pair of scissors and put my life at risk with my heavy and impractical body swaying high up in the air.
OR
I could pay a midget to do the job for me.
Please visit this site if you doubt my theory: http://russiandwarfhamsters.tripod.com/ (Yeah, so I had some problems finding any reliable info on dwarf PEOPLE. This'll do.)
I don't think I've ever met a midget. But then, I've never donated blood either. So that's not it.
But I've been thinking lately. Yeah, or... the last hour or so. Anyway, I think the world needs more midgets. Seriously, they can do lots of stuff. With their tight little bodies, their even little fingers and their - in all likelihood - great will of showing the world how useful they actually are.
See, I have this antenna on the roof, and there's this sort of grapevine branch that has twisted itself around it and thus disturbs the transmission. Highly annoying. Sure, I could take out the old ladder, climb up there with a pair of scissors and put my life at risk with my heavy and impractical body swaying high up in the air.
OR
I could pay a midget to do the job for me.
Please visit this site if you doubt my theory: http://russiandwarfhamsters.tripod.com/ (Yeah, so I had some problems finding any reliable info on dwarf PEOPLE. This'll do.)
2006-07-19
Hear my Confession and then be my Judge
Forgive me Oddballs for I have sinned, I have strayed from our accepting and wonderful flock and used my sense of Oddballness in other people’s presence. I have even gone so far as to repeatedly refer to someone besides Mousse as my Master, and on a regular basis insulted said person with insults only worthy of an Oddball.
I feel dirty, almost filthy. I don’t know what to do, how can I ever look you, my fellow Oddballs in the eyes again without feeling the sting of pain deep down in my soul?
How will I ever be able to go back to my people, will I ever again be able to be a proud part of our Holy Foursome, or am I doomed to feel the shame for the rest of my god forsaken earthly life?
I wish I could say that I will never again do what I have done, but alas I’m afraid that tomorrow I will go back to treating none Oddballs in an Oddball manner.
I will ink our name into my flesh, however I am uncertain as to whether that is penance enough for my crimes.
Name my punishment and I will accept it.
2006-07-18
So I've got bruises the size of English kidney pies on the inside of my thighs...
...with the color of purple poop. I can't say that I'm not motherly proud of my contusy beauties, but they hurt whenever I find myself in a situation where I have to cross my legs tightly in order to avoid tartly attention. Not that I dislike the attention. And the pain. I just love to whine, is all.
Yes, I had a rough weekend. Highly orgiastic, but rough and slightly painful.
But that's not why I'm here. Today I came here for the Ape, and for her great and endearing love of leather whips. And for her enabling this blog (which, by the very by, I spanked her into doing). Yeah, that's right, it all comes down to me. Me and my needs. And my bruised thighs, of course.
Anyway... Here's for you, Ape and Oddballs: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LhDCXXvK0QE
Yes, I had a rough weekend. Highly orgiastic, but rough and slightly painful.
But that's not why I'm here. Today I came here for the Ape, and for her great and endearing love of leather whips. And for her enabling this blog (which, by the very by, I spanked her into doing). Yeah, that's right, it all comes down to me. Me and my needs. And my bruised thighs, of course.
Anyway... Here's for you, Ape and Oddballs: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LhDCXXvK0QE
2006-07-06
Introductions
There are so many words one could use to describe us, so very many. But then again what’s in a word, will you really understand us by reading the definition of us, would you not much rather want to understand what’s behind that definition. Get to the bottom of the problem, so to speak.
Abctraqt (aka Mama Muscle Beaver, Lolita, Pirate Nun, Latex woman, Daddy). She is our leading void. Has a tendency to fall asleep when intoxicated, and no one, no one can make a leek seem more inappropriate and/or lust filled, than she. When the Gods created Decadence they had Abctraqt in mind.
K-Mart (Tiny, Philosophy Girl, Power Girl, Bubbles, Mama). The Fantasy expert, and our personal favourite sugar junkie. Give her something to obsess about and no one will touch the depths of her knowledge. Every once in a while the Oddballs need logic and that is when they turn to K-Mart, and she has yet to fail them.
Mousse (aka Moosq, MousseQue, Ghetto-Majken, Lord Henry). With always something inappropriate to say she can liven up any gathering, and turn the most absurd and taboo subjects into sweet, sweet comedy. Her obsession of Good vs Evil provides an endless flood of entertainment to be had for the group.
Ape (aka Jolly Ape, Dorian, Rockster, Mistress of Disgust). The socially inept eccentric of the group. Disgust is her game, and an expert at arrogant while drunk. The lapdog (but life partner is more fun) of Mousse. Feels lost and disoriented without someone to lead her, after all she was born a sidekick (she’s the spandex to the Hero’s leather).
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Oddball is the state of mind where nothing is really wrong. Compare it if you wish to Zen, it’s a complete relaxed state where ideas and thoughts are let to roam freely. It’s about the power of a group of twisted individuals minds. Can you live in a society without being a part of it?
Stay updated on this post-post-modern social and psychological experiment in outsidership.
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