Accept no defeat.

Word has yet to be heard from Lohan from Rohan, the dreamlike creature of Hollywood and many vices that holds my heart and controls my mind in her immediate absence and anticipated presence.

And the pity goes on! I spent the whole weekend studying, extremely unalcoholized. But am I non-toxic? No. Because I’m still on malaria medicine. No depression or nightmares yet, but apparently they might eventually cause massive hair loss. And despite said weekend, I might’ve failed to pass the exam I took today. A highly interesting letter from Singapore got into my mail but it wasn’t really addressed to me so I can’t open it. Also, I seem to always be out of candy.

One might think all this I would leave me frustrated. But I keep smiling, contented, knowing my world is a truly beautiful place. And some day soon Jesus may return. Amen.

K'naan - Wavin' Flag

PS. Lately, I have a spider residing in my room. I thought it died when one day it decided to take refuge in the outflow in my shower as I showered. Think about it! It was a truly bad idea! But apparently, it survived. Spiders are remarkable. Maybe I'll name it Cope. Because it did. Plus, it rhymes with hope.

Veckans Idolbild

Alive 20-26/04

Last week's song: Rock Lobster

This week's song: Rock Lobster
This week's idol: Mary Woronov
This week's idol runner-up: Skeletor
This week's weather: Summery
This week's croquet: Civilized

Next week's highlight: Valborg
Next week's potential: Dolls
Next week's croquet: Barbaric

**LINDSAY LOHAN! THIS IS NOT AN INVITATION**

First, I thought of simply renewing my old invitation to Lohan in some fancy and irresistible Mousse-way. Like, I was going to convince her that the reason she released her album “Speak” back in 2004 was because “Lindsay, you possess an honest, beautiful and natural urge to express yourself” and that that was so obvious if you, like me, spend some time listening to her lyrics and not JUST dance away to the awesome tunes. And then I’d tell her that her anorexia looked really, really good on her and not bad at all, like how it looked on Angelina. Ew! Those fat lips don’t go well at all together with starvation! And then I would probably have told Lohan how OK of her it was to have taken drugs and been all alcoholic, since, after all, people like Lohan - the witty and intelligent crew - always get out of those situations looking even MORE intelligent and witty. EVERYBODY knows they’re just doing drugs because they’re simply too deep and creative to have the time to process everything within the limits of a brain functioning in an everyday kind of pace! I would of course also compliment her acting in Dare to Love Me, a film that hasn’t even been made yet and would thus hint that I have THE greatest confidence in Lohan’s future performances. I wouldn’t mention anything about Samantha, not in the invitation anway. No, I would spend the last lines comparing Lohan to a mayfly. Or a sparrow. Or something else as poetic and rich with integrity.

But then suddenly I started having second thoughts about it all. Not because I in any way would be dishonest, but because it would put us both in an awkward position where I’m all beneath her and she’s all obliged to me from all my complimenting, which would leave us sitting staring at each other, not knowing what to say, when really, we have LOTS and LOTS to talk about. I would go something like “You look… radiant.” “So I’ve heard” goes Lohan and thinks of that time on Letterman. And then naturally she starts comparing me to Letterman. That would be totally out of place. I don’t want that.

No. I’m just going to bide my time and let Lohan take the first step instead.

Big Win

And just in case you're not already reading it, FAIL Blog.

Read it. Laugh.

Return the next day and repeat.

Also speaking of fail, where's that Lohan post? I think we need one. She needs one.

Fuck You Capitalism and the horse of Intellectual Property which you rode in on.

Who needs to pay for entertainment when there are so much good free stuff out there?! And I'd much rather support these shows than play the game of greedy bastards with very little regard to creativity or an intelligent audience.

Therefore I decided to devote a post to some of my favourite free shows out there. Some of them are not currently updating, but they are still bloody brilliant.

3Way - Hilarious lesbian meta show.

Improv Everywhere - Brilliant public improvisations. Frozen Grand Central was their doing.

ItsJustSomeRandomGuy - Well written adventure with lots of dry humour for the comic-book geeks among us.

P0YKPAC - Simple, but incredibly well done sketches.

The Guild - A lovingly poke at all us internet addicts and gamers.

Viralcom - A humorous take on the world of YouTube and viral videos.

What the Buck? - I know you all know who Buck is, and I know we all are kinda annoyed, but kinda fascinated by him.

You got any you want to add to the list?

In walked a jelly fish

It’s been concluded that The B-52’s Rock Lobster is one of the best dance songs ever. It’s obvious that croquet must be a game best played in a manner of war, if ever. It’s clear that Billy Zane as The Phantom is the gayest superhero ever.


And finally, children, trained to move like insects. Are they terrorists?

It's Aliiiiive!

today, i was greeted by a pot in the kitchen that looked like it had something growing in it.

just now, i was reminded of the awesomeness of Detektivbyrån.

to summarize, the day could have started off better, but the ending more than made up for it!

anyone else alive enough to wanna share something about their day/week?

Hands have no equivalence. Except for feet. And monkey's hands. And their feet.

Due to intake of malaria prophylaxis I cannot be held responsible for anything from this point and three weeks on. For this little adventure, that might cause depression and nightmares, I paid 230 SEK.

That said, I think I will be holding a testing round of my fantastic croquet tournament tonight. I might just’ve dreamt it. I’m on drugs, dammit! Today I thought I had dreamt reading that Ape has male blood. Turns out it was true. Anyway, I will show up in the park and see whoever else is in the same dream as I am. I’m hoping for Tilda Swinton. She would be perfect.

Apart from this croquet project, my womb project and Ulf Lundell (who officially no longer is a project) I have a new one. I shall aim for ambidexterity. A successful outcome will place me in the same clique as respected people like Kurt Cobain, James Woods and Topher Grace. You see, today I read about handedness. Supposedly, lefties have a slightly higher tendency to develop ambidexterity. Also, we are more likely to be mentally retarded.* Personally, I believe what you want to do with your handedness is a matter of choice. I choose ambidexterity.

And if I accidentally start to stammer because of the massive strain I will put on my psyche, I will warmly welcome it as the eagerly awaited defining trait of my personality it will represent.

Now I will go check on the temperature of my beer.


*Most left-handers, however, have no developmental problems (Berk 2009).

I was fifteen years old and had no idea what social constructions could do to a mind.

Ever since we finished the last millenna and started counting in 2000’s I’ve been feeling lost. Years no longer have any impact on me. From the time I was figure-literate the years were made up of mostly nines, but also other, real numbers, like ones and sevens and sixes. And then suddenly, after having reached the logical setup of one and three nines, I had to abandon this beautiful series and start counting my years with the help of twos and an awful lot of zeros. The magic was broken, everyhting was gone awry. Almost like Chistmas, when it’s Tuesday or Monday but everybody acts like it’s Sunday, because it sort of is. But it really isn’t. But when it’s Christmas you know it only lasts for three days. This year-counting business, we won’t get rid off as easily.

I don’t know if it’s mostly a matter of learning something in a critical period (childhood) and then having difficulties indocrinating a new way of thinking later in life. In my case, realizing that 1997 and 2003 are both years, even though they look different.

It might also have to do with the point of time of the millenna. I was fifteen. Things changed. I could now choose to devote myself to prostitution without my older customers having to be charged for having under-aged sex. I chose not to. Also, I was in puberty, which might have had something to do with it. A new time dawned and there was no going back. My body changed, and so did the look of the years.

Or maybe I’m just getting old. Years fly by like soda-streamed water in a river and it’s not important what their name is. A year these days isn’t like a year when I was seven. A year back then was something huge, almost solemn. Too abstract to fully understand, too real to escape. A year now is something fickle and fleeting, like a BUTTERFLY. Mm, butter.

If you got this far, you are rewarded with a song:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6WRm3VsmXRE

It's an Oddball kinda thing.

Sometimes you come across something that is just so right it almost gives you chills. I've always been a fan of Baba O'Riley, but it wasn't until I watched this performance it fully clicked.

Everything about this clip is so Oddball one has to wonder if The Who weren't possessed by the odd spirit (which was also responsible for each and one of ours' conceptions) during the performance, cause if we had talent it would probably have looked something like this.

Alive?

well, i'm alive and kicking, and i've learned two new things this week...

1. every body part on the left side of my body is larger than corresponding body part on my right side. my hand, my boob, my thigh, my foot. i know it's common and i've always had my suspicions, but now that it's confirmed i just feel like i've been wronged. wronged! also, the skoskav resulting from having same-sized shoes for different-sized feet may have something to do with my anger.

2. blenders, like people, have good days and bad days.

anyone else learn something new?

I kinda wish my mouse would work like this all the time.

http://2006.1-click.jp/

I was six months old, speaking in tongues in the local missionary church to an audience in awe, when suddenly…

Someone pointed out that listening to a baby gurgling couldn’t possibly be considered divine. And that was the end of that career.

Howdy! I’m experiencing something of a spring break from the supposedly wondrous world of developmental psychology (babies!) and have thus taken refuge in the countryside. The soothing spring air will cleanse my mind and the crystal clear sunshine will burn away what stains I have gathered in sin. The euphoria of this last weekend is taking its backlashing toll in the form of melancholy. Oh, woe! There is nothing to do but wait and possibly gluttonize. Everything has a shade of black to it and everyone is looking at me with pity. And I’m looking back in fear.

All the goldfish in the garden pond are dead. It appears they drowned and ended up deep-frozen within a solid layer of ice. And now they’re millimeters away from reaching air and the possibility to rot. That’s the thing about spring. It’s such a dramatic process, this restarting thing we’re doing. Old presumptions and dirty secrets suddenly have nowhere to hide and are forced to stand, bent down, in an unforgiving, dazzling sunshine. It’s not like we have a damn choice. If we want to restart and get renewed life, we have to encounter the stale and the old and the stinking. Like making that unpleasant phonecall so that you can move on. Or cleaning your room in order to get your candy. That’s spring for you. Together, of course, with brand new clothes in bright fucking colors. No wonder people get anguished and depressed.

Me, I’m not depressed at all. I just need some well-deserved cocooning. Weeklong. Planning on pondering upon whether I’m more of a sociopath or a socioholic. Might settle for sociorexic. And daddy promised to remove the fish. Only a couple of millimeters now…

Alive - 30/3-5/1

Nå? Lever vi?

Vad har hänt?

Vad har setts?

Vad har lyssnats på?

Vad har ätits?

Ge mig en kommentar så jag vet att ni lever även denna vecka.

Veckans Idolbild

He may have been lacking when moving/speaking/acting, but
The Gentleman knows how to pose.

Still Awkward.

I think it was meeting an old friend of mine that really spurred this hugging thing. An old friend whom you've been really close to and haven't seen in a very long time. A meeting such as that does deserve a hug. However awkward.

So I went out into the world and decided to work some cognitive therapy on myself, with practical assignments (aka hugs). And I've become better at it. Still it's awkward. It's no longer about the physical contact, it's just...it's an awkward form of greeting.

Yeah, that's it. It's the greeting aspect of it that bothers me more than anything. Random hugs bear an element of fun and niceness (and only a little fear), but when expectations are involved. Big no-no.

The hug should not be used as a greeting. Do we all agree?

(the following post was brought to you by M's intoxicated hugginess)