the oddballs

Food porn night

2011-09-07T23:07:00.004+02:00

This is probably the most stupid and uninspiring of all our brand new stupid and uninspiring categories.

For that, I give you Haruka's magic and bid you good food porn night, all without making a big deal of my having baked super attractive bread today.

You're no different than Darryl Hannah

2011-09-06T10:01:00.000+02:00

One day I started wondering where the center of my soul is located. As one does. I think I found it somewhere in my head, behind my eyes, in between my ears and not too far from my mouth. Why not in my belly? Why not somewhere closer to my heart? Why not in my index finger? Why this audio-visual-oral fixation when it comes to pinpointing my essence? Probably because, ultimately, having a soul is having a perspective. And according to Science, and my hand puppet Sir Yessir, coordination of perspective happens in my head. So naturally, when I think of me and my soul, and when I try to reach my inner self, I imagine it resides within my skull.

But this is not merely a post about soul-searching, or the idea that perspective is bound to be subjective and objectivity thus nowhere to be found since it has no place in the human consciousness. No. This is, as many times before, a post about Lindsay Lohan. See, I’m pretty sure I’ve heard it rumored that the girl lacks a soul. Now let’s assume those seemingly foul rumors are true (very unlike the admittedly foul rumors linking Lohan to theft). This would presumably make Lindsay Lohan the very key to absolute and sheer objectivity. It’s a grand and frightening thought to us mere mortal soulful persons. But at the same time an undeniably tantalizing opportunity.

Of course, she couldn’t share any of this with us soulfuls. Lohan simply wouldn’t notice any of the sheer objectivity since all this would mean she has a total lack of perspective. Oh, woe.

Again, the undying storm named Lindsay Lohan strikes me. As a riddle. The more I try to solve her, the greater a mystery she becomes. And all the more distinguished from the rest of the world she appears.

More or less.

And then what if there were five of us, and all wearing velvet capes.

2011-09-05T13:06:00.003+02:00

Majestic hair.

Tag of the week

2011-09-04T19:31:00.004+02:00

"Tag of the week" is one of the five brand new features presented below. A while ago. The why is both irrelevant and undefined. The idea, however, is to pick a tag from our quite large collection of used tags and create one or several posts in its honor. And this week's tag of honor is, as expected:

Lindsay Lohan.

Let me add and clarify that there is absolutely no need to wait for a whole conventional week to announce a new Tag of the week. All tag weeks are separate units that can and should exist alongside each other in individual cycles of one to seven thousand days.

Den Nya Posten

2011-08-24T17:51:00.003+02:00

Riktlinjer börjar gälla från och med 1 september.

1. Modebloggstisdag
2. Food porn night
3. Dark&Cute
4. I wish I was a...
5. Tag of the week

2011 - the year of the ?

2011-01-07T23:02:00.014+01:00

Ny tid!
Nya möjligheter.
Därför är det helt logiskt med en tillbakablick.
Give me your personal best of 2010!

Vinter

Vår

Sommar

Höst

Vinter igen!

PUSS!

Heh!

2010-10-09T09:41:00.002+02:00

Det vi alltid har saknat! Nu kan vi bli riktiga medborgare!

Saker man inte vill tänka på #14

2010-09-25T11:32:00.001+02:00

Vad i helvete har ni tänkt er att jag ska göra i nyår?!

Dagens Urklipp #saker man vill höra varje dag

2010-08-25T18:51:00.002+02:00

"Du ser ut som nån slags konstigt superhjälte."

Dagens Urklipp #saker man inte hör så ofta

2010-07-15T06:36:00.000+02:00

"Så vad vi har här är alltså två separata svin?"

Claiming land.

2010-05-15T15:21:00.003+02:00

As my romanticist soul needed fodder I decided to avoid the capital this weekend and spend my time in the countryside; walk in a fairytale forest, fall asleep to the sound of birds and bumblebees and wake up with a bad conscience for getting up way too late to really make use of the spring morning. To repent my horrible sin of sleeping in I took the decision sometime after lunch to crawl up into a flowerbed and dig my fingers deep into the dark dirt. Half nude in the sunshine I encountered plants, worms, centipedes and a thousand yellow ants. As time in the flowerbed went by, I felt the boost of making difference. The difference consisted of me tearing apart homes, exposing roots and insects to the scorching sun and meting out punishment for the plants I found to be weeds and making room for the ones I considered flowers. I felt the omnipotence of my sheer fingerwork and I smiled to myself, excited by my recklessness, feeling the gentle pressure of dirt under my nails, carressing the lovemarks I had inflicted on the ground and despising the weakness of the weed plants spread out around me at an arm's length.

Naturally, the humanist in me is ashamed and frightened. Which only makes the satisfaction more intense.

And what will Lindsay Lohan think?

2010-05-05T16:24:00.004+02:00

For months now, I have, from time to time, been detecting an ill-boding and unidentifiable smell. Since I cannot seem to find its source I have had to assume it stems from me, and possibly from the back of my head. This because I cannot reach there with my nose and thus not exclude the possibility that it is in fact the back of my head that smells. I am just waiting for someone, somewhere, someday to give me an awkward look and a “Hey, I think the back of your head is rotting.” And I will have no other choice but to reply with an “I know. It’s been going on for months.” And at that point, I won’t exactly be lying. In a way, it might even be relieving.

But until that fatal day when the world is exposed to my rotting skull once and for all, I will make sure to wear my beret whenever I go out. Naturally, I curse the spring heat.

Music: LCD Soundsystem - Drunk Girls

Om du var vaken, skulle jag GE dig!

2010-05-04T16:03:00.010+02:00

I currently obsess over the band Kite and my approaching midnight deadline. It's an OK combination. That time when I obsessed over cheese and jelly candy was a much worse combination, according to some. Or that time when I obsessed over having my left foot removed in combination with buying leftover right shoes to some highly affordable prices.

Anyway, the above video is to be watched as a tribute to me and tiny's dream version of our time in Paris back in spring -07, with the introducing line "wake up, you fucking dyke".

Lord Henry OK'd it, once again.

2010-04-28T22:22:00.007+02:00

Perhaps DIKT:APRIL was doomed to fail from the very start. Instead of sitting alone typing nonsensical words in sheer desperation, we decided to come together last week and create life poetry in the form of sunshine, people's beer and boffer sword production. This collective dream state went on for some days and in the meantime, DIKT:APRIL vanished like volcanic ash in the wind. And we would all rejoice, put on our most picturesque outfits and start thinking about future beautiful failed projects to come.

The only artists I have ever known, who are personally delightful, are bad artists. Good artists exist simply in what they make, and consequently are perfectly uninteresting in what they are. A great poet, a really great poet, is the most unpoetical of all creatures. But inferior poets are absolutely fascinating. The worse their rhymes are, the more picturesque they look. The mere fact of having published a book of second-rate sonnets makes a man quite irresistible. He lives the poetry that he cannot write. The others write the poetry that they dare not realise.

Lord Henry, in “The Picture of Dorian Gray” by Oscar Wilde

Saker man inte hör så ofta;

2010-04-17T19:33:00.003+02:00

"Ja, du är ju i fertil ålder så det bör du nog inte göra."

Mentioning things in my room a Friday night/Saturday morning

2010-04-17T02:34:00.005+02:00

Letters and legs and pictures of all
the modest arts that grace the wall
curry and tea cups and Christ in thorn
all of this by a fifties shelf borne
staples and sweetness and spoonfuls of lotion
placed and balanced on a table in motion
crumbs and cables and clothes for poor
these are most often found on the floor
a lamp, a lamp, a lamp and a lamp
light and scattered as a small town tramp.

Havre, sport, delikatess...

2010-04-15T22:36:00.003+02:00

Mot hunger, förstoppning och stress
ja, det kan till och med bota tristess
en sorglig tunn liten skiva
som nästan vadsomhelst kan bliva
vissa kallar det magi
men egentligen är det bara god fantasi

för detta har jag äntligen fattat
Wasa, det är grovt underskattat

Dikt om en hemlighet

2010-04-14T22:10:00.003+02:00

En mörk låda
med blåa ränder
orsakar klåda
hur man den än vänder

men du! du! du!
nu ska du få höra
i den bor en gnu
med stora ögon och ben sköra

det är därför det låter så konstigt om natten
som ett monster i garderoben
det är därför hon vaktar den noga som skatten
och försiktigt sköter om den.

Rot.

2010-04-14T21:28:00.012+02:00

...
I indirectly blame Ape's recurrent, delirious and positively outstanding Cara/Kahlan subtext-posts for my somehow coming across and enjoying this song and video. But seriously. How is one supposed to be able to study when there is so much YouTube filth to surf!?

I'll live my next life as a male Bollywood star

2010-04-13T15:58:00.005+02:00

And if I'm not able to pull off those moves (1:25, 1:56, 3:33, 3:45 etc.) plan B is to become a dancing Indian condom.

Marry me! (I'll be your housewife)

2010-04-13T00:00:00.005+02:00

and maybe I should be despised
I know telling is too much
so maybe i'm not listening
about me, watching, they touch me
people won't talk to me
music doesn't speak to me
I get up, I walk around

and really, I should be calm
it's all so very tidy
there should be room to breathe now
cleaning, arranging, dusting
I've been making such good sweeps
breathing as from running a hundred stairs
I sit down, still restless

Buy!

2010-04-11T22:41:00.002+02:00

death by sword
light by candle
light by mysterious creature

movement by body
shine by odds
misinterpretation by mind
nudity by Americans

N°5 by Chanel

Sju.

2010-04-11T22:39:00.000+02:00

7 7 7 7 7 7 7

Alive. How about you?

2010-04-10T20:15:00.006+02:00

And a random youtube post, because I am too tired to do anything else. So so tired. So tired I had a religious experience watching the Voyager intro. Yeah, that's how tired I am. However I do feel like I should update a little. Sorta let people know what I'm up to lately. When I'm not so tired I become religious that is.

I'm having a fictional love affair with the Old Spice Man and his horse. I'm also infatuated with the music to this trailer and Tabrett Bethell.

And in my spare time I am Sire Gork who finds the idea of a book of Mormon battles hilarious, but does approve of boffer swords.
In what little time there is left I'm reliving pubertal memories in the form of blonde borgs, unitards and just generally loving the Star Trek universe.

And you? Can you sum up your life with the aid of youtube?

the nude poet.

2010-04-10T19:56:00.003+02:00

Naked. That's what poetry makes me feel. Completely and utterly naked.

I put my words to the screen and suddenly I feel the breeze of self-conciousness sending a shiver down my spine. Goosebumps along my naked arms, legs and mind.

I frequently part with the innermost thoughts of my brain, but when there is no intent. When the words must hold up as their own little island without reason. When they are not part of a journey, but rather a goal in themselves.

Naked. Naked as we came.

no words.

2010-04-09T22:59:00.005+02:00

I enjoy words. They are my friends, my concubines. They travel through my mind as if it were Grand Central Station.

But now. But now all I have is nothingness.

I sit here watching the cursor. I watch it blink. I watch it taunt me as no words will come.

Frustration turning into anger turning into numb.

No words. Not today.

Nooo zest!

2010-04-08T22:22:00.010+02:00

264 gallons of human blood on the street
a million electricity bills for Kyrgyz heat
a good portion of passion, I dare say
a little bit of justice, make it before May
for a final touch, the very best
twelve juicy lemons, no zest!
all I asked for was a sugar high
what came out was a very, very sour pie

Request.

2010-04-08T11:12:00.001+02:00

Could someone please write something about pie!?

Zombies or aliens? (If I were a rebel)

2010-04-08T00:28:00.005+02:00

Call me when the apocalypse comes
for zombie attack, press one
for alien invasion, press two
for instant death, please hold

Call me, and I will tell you this
the zombies? they will eat you
the aliens? they will rule you
but no, they won't exactly kill you

Call me, and I shall listen
as the zombies devour your brains,
as the aliens push you to the ground,
as you cry over your own lost dignity

And then call me again, as you understand
zombies make for great spouses,
aliens rule with care and devotion
and golly, you're somehow still alive!

You call me, only to say
that your brains were meant for fodder
that your back was made to bow
and you laugh at yourself, having tried to resist

Call me, sometime before you die
and tell me about it all
that it wasn't so bad, going under
and I WILL put you on hold

Because if you call me, I will tell you
I still fear the zombies
I won't ever trust the aliens
And apocalypse will be my only truth

Det är möjligt att den här dikten skulle bli mycket bättre om jag läste den högt för er.... Å andra sidan, kanske inte.

2010-04-06T22:48:00.005+02:00

En bit choklad,
kan väl inte skad'?
så motsatsen, att avstå,
och ersätta med selleri rå,
borde väl inte vara så svårt?
beslutet var ju ändå vårt!

en rutten kyckling i min kyl,
möglig philadelphiaost, och dyl,
kan inte ersätta en ferraribil röd!
speciellt när allt man har är hårt mjukt bröd.

nej, mina vänner, snart får det räcka,
hur länge kan en månad utan socker räcka?

DIKT:APRIL

2010-04-06T12:45:00.003+02:00

We are currently experiencing DIKT:APRIL, an event introduced by Ape. Ape claims that this is poetry month and that someone somewhere has encouraged the masses to create a poem a day for this whole month. I have failed to find hard proof of this, but then again, I haven't tried that hard. Even defining the word "proof" would take such a long time that I would eventually have to take a food break, causing me to forget about it all and having to start defining all over again, after food break. So I decided to simply trust the Ape and make it happen. So far, we have created/quoted four poems, which might look bad, seeing as this is the sixth day of April. But if you take into consideration The Oddballs' History of Failed Projects, I'd say it looks almost promising. Let's show ourselves that poetry doesn't have to be good in order to be fun.

Guidelines/wishlist:

Quantity over quality (better one a day than one a week)
Quantity over quotes (better write your own cheap shit than quoting Baudelaire)
Any language (even Elvish or Webdings)
Any topic (even spring!)
Any shape (or non-shape)

To spring!

2010-04-06T00:05:00.003+02:00

splashy, sneering, the first flowers approach
don't look so smug, snow counters, rash
a dandelion slut wouldn't stand a chance
had i not let you near by my own damn will

Are we not oozing wounds to your white perfection?
the flowers reply with their smugness unchanged
you crumble as black dirt unfold in the sun
and we revel, and we tango (oh, how we tango!)

Now snow rolls its eyes and makes the flowers squint
the sun has nothing on me, never
see, i'm its mirror on earth, itself in cool white
and recall it is me who hide the dirt!

you do make for a fine parody, flowers admit
but you will die now, as we tango (oh, how we...)
while really, says snow, YOU have been dead for months
that is one way of looking at it

giggle the flowers, watching snow melt
thinking of all the winters to come
stepmotherly, indulgent thoughts
then, all those springs, all that tango!

Butler reduced to poetry

2010-04-04T17:17:00.010+02:00

She is, in her own way, dispossessed in the moment of acting as its site of transfer for me.

What am I calling on her to be?
And how does she take up that call?

What my call recalls for her will be the site of the countertransference, but about this I cannot know.

Vainly I ask, "Who are you?", and then, more soberly, "What have I become here?"

And she asks those questions of me as well, from her own distance, and in ways I cannot precisely know or hear.

This not-knowing draws upon a prior not-knowing, the not-knowing by which the subject is inaugurated, although that "not-knowing" is repeated and elaborated in the transference

without precisely becoming a site to which I might return.

(About the incommensurability that accounts for the countertransference)

(by Judith Butler, in Giving an Account of Oneself, Diacritics, no. 4, 2001)

An Ideal.

2010-04-03T07:09:00.004+02:00

Looking back at our two creations I can't help feel as if there is something missing to our poetry, besides style and reason. I think we're missing the secret ingredient. While we ponder this I shall leave you with a little something...an ideal perhaps?

Rester från igår.

2010-04-02T22:20:00.003+02:00

Jag saknar ord

när jag spiller öl på mitt bord

fjärilen landar lätt

sträcker ut sin tunga nätt

en blommig kjol, en liten flicka

fjärilen särar på sina läppar och börjar slicka

(I had no idea it would be so graphic, or so crude, but since no one else has written anything today...crude is the word)

Ode till hamberger

2010-04-01T23:22:00.002+02:00

En fjäril kunde inte flyga

utan landade lättmpå min tunga

Oh nej! Oh ja! Det var hamburgerdressing

Det är ett brunt blad i salladen

men allt förs framåt av kritik

Kyparn! Kyparn!

(Jag älskar)

[Well it sounded a lot better at the time. A lot.]

Not so much of a wicked game as a frivolous pastime.

2010-03-18T16:28:00.006+01:00

As I'm sitting here on my lazy bones day, trying to decide whether to watch yet another episode of Dollhouse or rewatch the Wicked Game documentary, I was suddenly hit by a bolt of realisation. I realised my life is a Family Guy episode.

Utterly frivolous. Strange and indescribable relationships. Quotes and references to such a degree there is a clear lack of comprehensibility and coherency. Unpolitically correct in a major way. Meanwhile being riddled with flashbacks and fictional memories and occupied with characters that can only be described as characters.

Yes, my life is a Family Guy episode. I don't think I mind. A little anti-climactic now with all that spirituality and religion buzzing around claiming all kinds of complexity and depth. Not to mention meaning. Still I don't think I mind. I'm quite comfortable. As a matter of fact I'm actually quite happy.

And this is where I'll stay

2010-02-10T22:32:00.012+01:00

Today’s question: Is irony just a way of getting away with being stupid? And do ironic representations in popular culture do good or bad? Black Eyed Peas’ music video for Meet Me Halfway is today’s object of analysis. Watch it:

With a title like Meet Me Halfway, one would think that they should put an equally large effort in getting to each other. But no.

To start with, throughout the video, the Man is depicted as several indivduals. The Man is as versatile as he is active. He conquers nature in what feels like countless ways; he rides an elephant (domestication of animals!), he reads maps (literacy!), he goes to space and he uses various tracking devices (modern science and gold-digging!). Clearly, he’s a Man with a plan and he has the know-how and the determination to get where he wants.

Meanwhile, the Woman, one body, one individual, placed in Nature, doesn’t seem to make any effort whatsoever of getting her halfway to the Man. Her job is to lie passive on a tree trunk, surrounded by flowers and magical mist, gently carressing her body while keeping her legs together (she’s holding out!). And when she claims that “I can’t go any further than this” she has successfully managed to crawl on the ground a distance of… nowhere. She is not only placed in nature, she IS nature, wating to be conquered. All he needs is a location, and to get there first. All she needs is to wait.

In conclusion, and since no one else seems to hang around this blog, I guess I should answer my own questions. But I won't. I don't know if I should laugh with them, at them or cry because of the unoriginal/ironic depictions of Man/Woman. No. Instead I shall watch it again and now focus on why the elephant is wearing black and how that is possibly related to chocolate. Hej.

Even cowboys

2010-02-05T19:31:00.014+01:00

It's Friday evening and the kitchen is currently hosted by a band of brothers, a gang of boys. They're peeling potatoes, and trying to make sense of something I would probably refer to as the matter of homosexuality and hegemonic masculinity:

- That is so gay. One is so obviously gay, looking like that.
- No, there’s no such thing as 'looking gay'. You can never tell! Have you not seen Brokeback Mountain!?

I'm an animal.

2010-02-02T23:18:00.012+01:00

Since no one seems to be particularly alive I hereby allow myself to ponder freely upon whatever I feel like. For example, inspired by my dad and Ape’s family: The immorality of mixing meat from different animals in one sole dish.

You should know, that for the Ape family it is something of a challenge to put as many different animal meats in the same dish, and get away with it (something which they don’t always manage). As for my dad, he brought me disgust and inspiration when telling me of an extravagant dish consisting of a large turkey, in which there was a goose, in which there was a chicken, in which there was dove, in which there was a quail. And in the quail layeth an egg. Yeah, an egg in a bird, in a bird, in a bird… Or something along those lines. This is something that the old Romans used to eat. According to my dad.

Like the Janssons, I love food-related challenges. And like some of the more spoilt Romans, I adore gluttony. But there is something absolutely unethical in putting meat from different animals in the same dish.* I say we lose a portion of our humanity for every bacon-enfolded chicken breast we cut into.

Let’s say I was killed for food. I died for you. Then at least make me the star of your meal. I gave my life for your fucking jambalaya, don’t throw in a damn chicken next to me! Or a pork sausage. Or something else dead with a potential soul that isn’t mine. And don’t you dare eat me on weekdays. At least not my good parts. You're just shoving me right into your mouth without really tasting. Have my intestines for a hasty Tuesday tv-dinner, but damn you if you consume my fine buttocks in front of Days of our Lives! See me, see my value! Invite your friends to indulge me. Or better, have them watch you indulge in me. Make a sauce béarnaise to go with my inner thighs or smoke my cheeks with juniper berries. I don’t care exactly how you prepare me, as long as you do it with love and devotion. Think of me, who laid down my life to satisfy you.

One dish, one meat, one life, one soul, one love.

*Some of you out there might consider it absolutely unethical eating animals in the first place. And let’s not forget, we do have a former vegan in our midst (however, these days she’s *only* militant). I too, find it a somewhat weird and questionable custom, killing for food. But it is how I was brought up. The problem is that meat and the animals who bring it to us are way underrated. Cherish the meat, cherish the animals.

Alive 31/1

2010-01-31T23:45:00.007+01:00

I am. But it’s not a particularly glamorous life. Today I deep-fried an enormous amount of food and fed until I felt sick. Then I accidentally fell on my dog, who squealed, but she survived. Then I took a hit at an innocent-looking spruce, pricked my fingers on the deep-frozen needles and left blood marks in the snow. Also, it appears I haven't taken a shower since last Thursday.

Anyone else feeling alive?

Ouch

2010-01-28T21:49:00.004+01:00

Ape is gone and all is darkness. Proof of the darkness was earlier today provided by tiny, who were convinced that the sole reason Spotify was malfunctioning was because Ape had left the country. And me, I've been forced to socialize with people who aren’t Ape. It proved difficult. Yesterday night, an *acquaintance* approached me and, apropos of nothing:

- You damn imperialist swine!
- What…? I thought we were friends!?
- That’s only on Facebook.
- Oh.

Your body is a wonderland

2010-01-19T22:35:00.003+01:00

Meeting tomorrow, and Lolly advises us all to wear the stripy Rocky mouth t-shirt. While waiting for the magical hour, I advise you all to dress and undress Britney Spears. Don’t you just adooore the mini size eagle top? I wish they would enable us to change the color of her lips, I’d give her some shade of lusciously whorish pink. Or even better, enable Jennifer Connelly; Hey, tiny! *high-five*

Anyway. Tomorrow.

Oddballs, perfume, curse of the mousse

2010-01-04T19:14:00.006+01:00

Ape puts on perfume and smells like one of those sunshiny, flowery, fairytale spring mornings, where clean isn’t simply a description, but a 4-dimensional cartoon, which you can smell.

Lolly puts on perfume and smells like the oriental mistress, whose comforting touch and libido is woven of silky embraces of musk and oranges and obscure passion.

tiny puts on perfume and smells of inexplicable and unearthly perfection and something supposedly ephemeral, for no matter how much you smell her you can never fully grasp its complexity.

And me, I put on perfume, which as it hits my skin reacts, evolves and smells of something sticky, unbearable and ill-boding. Almost like the way you might detect an assertive-smelling smell, not knowing what it is and wonder whether it smells good or bad before you realize it’s rottening garbage you smell. Or zombies. That’s me using perfume. Any perfume.

12 bilder

2009-12-30T23:30:00.017+01:00

Här kommer de!

Dagens Urklipp - UAS

2009-12-28T20:48:00.001+01:00

Jag tjuvlyssnade på denna ensidiga konversation på jobbet häromdan.

Anonym Sjuksyster: Han ollar den hela tiden! Och det blir ju alltid så jobbigt då.

Tog mig en bra stund innan jag förstått att jag tjuvlyssnat fel och att Doktorn inte alls ollade maskinen, utan nollade den. Men det var mycket underhållande medans det varade.

En dag som alla andra.

2009-12-15T14:49:00.004+01:00

Som alla andra snöiga dagar då man helst vill stanna inne och inte ha några byxor på sig.

Idag har jag frenetiskt imdb-at och kommit fram till att:

Det är samma skådespelare som spelar Prästen i Emil i Lönneberga och Tengil i Bröderna Lejonhjärta!

Den (typ) bäst filmatiserade (om inte Birk hade spelat över så frenetiskt) Astrid Lindgren-sagan är regisserad av Tage Danielsson.

Mio min Mio är en internationell (med stor rysk influens) produktion med Christian Bale, Christopher Lee och Timothy Bottoms. Dock heter den " The Land of Faraway".
Jag måste ha varit alltför ung för att förstå att den var dubbad.

Det är synd och skam att man inte kan få tag på "Jim och Piraterna Blom" på dvd.
Eller få tag på den alls.
Faktiskt

Här är del 1. Resten hittar ni på youtube!

One of these days, honey...

2009-12-08T22:01:00.011+01:00

This blog is dangerously close to being put on ice. A highly defrostable ice-state. But ice, nonetheless. We will hold it wide open during the “put your year in pictures-project” but come January and we’re still experiencing blog post desert this blog will be put on hold. Outspoken abstinence might encourage creativity. In any case, it will be an experiment worth trying.

Until that day, I will keep on living my life as I know it. Lately, I can’t seem to walk anywhere without imagining myself falling. Everything I walk by that looks stumble-worthy; a sidewalk; a rock; a small child, I picture myself tripping over, falling headlong, dropping everything I hold in my hands, leaving my body spread out on the street as an animal shot. People stare and I usually hurt myself badly. By the time I reach the imaginary hospital, I have since long passed the initial obstacle on my way to wherever. And in between, I imagine walking into signs, and tree branches, only to destroy my eyes by ripping out the cornea. My dad, who earlier this year underwent eye surgery, claims that the cornea is one of the most pain sensitive areas on your body.

Other than that, I spend hours each day reading about sexual violence, mostly in the form of rape. Rape in woods, rape at home, rape in history, rape today and rape as an instrument of war. Some days, I take lonely walks in the dark. Funny thing is, I never do my mental falls when it’s dark, which is more or less obvious, since all the obstacles are hidden in darkness and I am busy contemplating sexual abuse.

Today's music: The New Pornographers

A Challenge!!! with exhibitionism!! and jacuzzis!

2009-11-24T17:59:00.006+01:00

We like pictures. Shiny pictures! Do you like pictures?

The year of "förpuppning" is coming to an end, and we like sums. Sometimes it is even fun to summarise. Therefore lets each provide a mathematical term to describe the past 12 months of our joint, or not joint life. Or we could just describe our year in a series of 12 more or less pointless, arrogant or plainly plain pictures.

Pressure, but good pressure, like in a steamy jacuzzi with glistening and tanned and flexing and pumping and....yeah, nevermind. In reality this is just a mindless attempt to fit a few more posts into the 2009 archive of this blog. If you feel like this is a worthy cause then upload your 12 pictures describing the past year and lets all look at them and laugh ourselves silly while we engage in a brilliant example of virtual exhibitionism.

More conformist shit.

2009-11-01T23:35:00.006+01:00

- Reconnect with Her!

- Send Her a message!

- Write on Her wall!

- You haven’t talked on Facebook lately, sen Her a message!

- Reconnect with Her!

- Write on Her wall!

- Send Her a message!

- Help make Facebook better for Her.

- Poke Her!

For what feels like several weeks now, Facebook has been placing a small picture of tiny in the right column of the home page. Never anyone else. The picture shows tiny looking at me from below, somewhat hunchback-like, and Facebook continously attaches subtle messages to her picture. The words change from time to time, but the original message still remains. tiny doesn’t fit into the Facebook Dream. For that I love Her.

And the Facebook shall never know.

You know, not everyone has achieved the label "über-skinny starlet" in the press.

2009-10-31T21:48:00.010+01:00

But, anyway...

Two cherubs, one cloud.

More Nipple Tassels at Boob Night

2009-10-28T01:50:00.004+01:00

Let's celebrate boobs with "Boob Night"!

Nästa vecka har vi en pysselkväll!
Den går i bröstens tecken.
Mycket bröst eller helt enkelt synlig bh (alternativet är att klä oss i rosa, vilket är B).

Menyn består av:
Krustader med gräddfil + liten bröstvårteliknande klick röd rom
Potatishalvor placerade med snittytan nedåt.
Kycklingbröst
Rosa sås
Rosa glass i div bröstform till efterrätt, och baknig av bröstkakor kommer att ske fortlöpande under kvällen.

För att slappna av spelar vi däremellan tutt-memo, diskuterar bröstens anatomi samt (kvällens höjdpunkt) övar på att snurra våra Nipple Tassels!

Denna kväll kan inte gå fel!

Tisdag, anyone?

Instead of Lindsay Lohan's take on nipple tassels...

2009-10-27T21:03:00.006+01:00

After a hard day’s work in school, I find it highly rewarding listening to this song. Because, contrary to facts, it makes me feel like I’ve accomplished something. Bryan Ferry might not be the prettiest puppy in the petshop, but his voice IS smoother than sunshine. And since the sun’s been hiding its ass for over a week now, Roxy Music is my substitute.

On a darker note, Halloween’s coming up and I might’ve promised hosting some kind of black-spandex-red-lips party. Somehow, I find that thought highly depressing right now. But that’s probably just my heavy workload talking. Can anyone be so kind as to inform me of the cancelability of that specific event?

And finally, tiny, remember that time when we were at that awfully trendy club somewhere close to Champs Elysées and that horrible guard insinuated that my awesome dress was too coat-y, simply by asking if it was a coat and if so advised me to hand it in to the wardrobe? And I was like Man, me and my dress are are as coat-y as this place is ghey! Of course I didn’t say that. What does that even mean? No. Instead, I felt strangely exposed, almost naked, when naturally, I should‘ve felt the opposite. But - and here’s my point - apparently this kind of conformist shit happens to other people as well. And I swear, I didn't even wear turtleneck that specific night.

Favorit i repris. Som man säger.

2009-10-23T19:06:00.007+02:00

Kungen är ute och jagar älg igen. Detta meddelade Rapport i ett reportage i gårdagens sändning:

[bild på en man i skogen klädd i grönt som röker en cigarr]

Och i gränstrakterna mellan Dalarna och Västmanland har kungen tillsammans med direktörer, grevar, friherrar och politiker jagat älg de senaste två dagarna, och vår monark gick inte lottlös

[bild på en man som lyfter huvudet på en död älg genom att dra den i örat]

- nä ja sköt en liten pinn en pinn-pinn-tjur, en ko, kalv och en pinn-pinn, pinn-tjur, som man säger.

[slut på reportaget]

Fikamöte

2009-10-15T11:33:00.003+02:00

På lördag är det fikamöte.
INGA undanflykter.

Fågelsången ca 13.

(e)Harlequin

2009-10-07T19:23:00.013+02:00

As I think we are all familiarising ourselves with the lovely (or not so lovely) world of Harlequin, I thought it was about time we had a post on it. Or basically I got a little bit bored and googled Harlequin, and quickly found myself on eHarlequin.com.

While enjoying myself immensely as I browsed the site (and found free downloadable copies of their books! - and yes I am totally thinking about downloading the one about fatherhood and twins) I also found my new favourite category of books, Superromance. I kid you not, there is such a genre. It does not include supermen or mutants, but is simply a kind of romance so super it deserves it's own genre. Or to quote the site itself;

"Romance has never felt more real than in our Harlequin Superromance series! More than a romantic relationship, it's mainstream romance with the promise of happy ever after!"

Is it just me or does this description sound incredibly aggressive? Oppressive almost. All those exclamation points!

And seeing how they both cater to the African-American and Hispanic communities I say why not replace the Sheik with the predatory-Butch. As a matter of fact why not read through their extremely helpful writing guidelines and then get cracking.

What say you?

Jag ser ingen annan lösning...

2009-10-05T23:21:00.006+02:00

Var det vi som undrade huruvida det enbart är kvinnor som släpps in på Ladies' Night? Hursomhelst är det tydligen någon därute, närmare bestämt en busschaufför, som också har funderat. I cirka åtta mil funderade han, för att slutligen ta ställning och agera.

Man thrown off bus in gender row.

Mer musik.

2009-09-30T21:36:00.004+02:00

Yesterday I learned that apparently, I drink more alcohol than 63% of the Swedish population.

Today I learned that Patrick Wolf has released a new album AND that he can pull off blonde. Am I late?

Tomorrow I will learn about Poland. And how they can't pull off the blonde.

Baby baby baby!

2009-09-28T14:37:00.002+02:00

Ska vi åka till Paris igen?

Does it really anti-matter?

2009-09-27T22:39:00.000+02:00

Today’s important public announcement concerns our joint gmail account and it comes in three parts, 1) We still have one, 2) it’s still working and 3) Butters and Mariah Carey.

On a brighter note, we sent a fan mail to the people of 3way, the web series. Fortunately, we made it not at all sound like a death threat. Which is talented, coming from us.

That is that. We now move on. No weaknesses.

It's okay. He's just admiring the shape of your skull.

2009-09-21T18:13:00.011+02:00

This has been sort of a bad day. Why? My king-size, super nice glass frame lost its grip and fell and broke and now my wall looks nude. And if my home is wrecked (although mildly) my soul is too. I feel like throwing myself on the floor, in fetal position, and with my head as a center start spinning on the floor, kicking myself around with the help of my feet. Faster, and faster. In theory, it would look cool and give me much comfort. But I lack the muscles needed for such an exercise. Instead I read up on nationalism, and listen to The National. An unintended combination, I swear. But I have got to say, Benedict Anderson’s theory of the nation as an imagined community goes pretty well with The National’s “Fake Empire”. Once again, my unconscious genius outshines everybody’s shoeshine. But to what good? The below posted video is pretentious. It shares many features with the music video Stewie Griffin made to impress on Joe and Bonnie’s newborn. But as I am as drawn to pretentiousness as flies are to malnourished children I will not refrain from posting it. Because this is how I feel when something falls and breaks. In my home. A Monday afternoon.

De utvaldas skara.

2009-09-19T13:51:00.003+02:00

Vi ska göra vad vi gör bäst!
Temafest!

Temat denna gång är vad de andra vill att vi ska vara. Du har alltså ingen egen bestämmanderätt över din egen utstyrsel! Intressant? Det är bara förnamnet!

Vad som är tänkt att diskuteras här är följaktligen vilka karaktärer vi önskar se varandra som. Mart är redan bestämd sedan länge, men resten?
Shoot baby, shoot!

Plats: Moussies ShagPad 091003
Preliminär tid 18.15.

Konsert i Konserthuset!

2009-09-15T21:39:00.002+02:00

Kanske är det inte helt oväntat att det är i konserthuset det är konsert, men jag vill att ni verkligen ska förstå budskapet. Jag har ännu inte varit på något event i konserthuset. Inget alls faktiskt, jag har smugit in, åkt rulltrappa och kikat på utsikten. Gratis. Men det var då! Nu blåser den nya tidens vind! Jag tänker betala för en attraktion!

På fredag 25:e september 19.30 är det konsert med Ólafur Arnalds i UKK. (Uppsala Konsert och Kongress. Jag hoppas innerligt att det inte bara jag som tycker det låter som en separatistfalang i en sydamerikansk gerilla).
Biljettpris 140 kr.

Vill ni följa med?

http://www.ukk.se/Konsert/Konsertprogram/Olafur-Arnalds/

Ledsen för attacken. Jag mår bättre nu.

2009-09-12T11:34:00.003+02:00

Jag förespråkar dock fortfarande diskret hemmaträning.

En sund själ i en sund kropp (attack riktad mot tiny, Ape och alla andra gymmande jävla jantelagsmotarbetare)

2009-09-10T23:16:00.012+02:00

Rent parentesmässigt vill jag börja med att visa omslaget till Mariah Careys senaste album.

[paus]

Sedan vill jag säga att jag förstår varför man kan bli utsatt för våldtäkt när man traskar längs en dåligt upplyst cykelväg i någon av Uppsalas mer perifera centraldelar. Det är inte så att jag var speciellt upphetsad, eller särskilt sugen på att hamna i brottslig konflikt med någon (det vill jag mycket sällan). Men känslan av oövervinnerlighet, tillsammans med övertygelsen om att jag skulle kunna våldta någon, den var påtaglig, när jag powerwalkade där i mörkret. Endorfiner från träning, mina vänner, gör underverk. Och andra saker.

När jag kom hem tände jag ett stearinljus och funderade kring fysisk aktivitet och elitism.

Vem tror du att du är? Vad är det för samhälle du bygger? I jantelagens Sverige skulle ingen jävel skylta med att man går till gymmet och älskar hårt med sig själv i en timme. Du skulle inte skryta över att lägga pengar på att stå och blotta dig i ett spegelrum fyllt med sadomasochistiska tillfredsställningsmaskiner. Du skulle dölja dina armars avsaknad av gäddhäng.

Okej att alla gör det, men gör det diskret. För i helvete.

3 years and this could be us.

2009-09-07T17:38:00.005+02:00

And related through the six degrees of YouTube separation, I am absolutely in love with this song; Willis - Word Up (damn spotify for not having it)

A matter of opinion.

2009-09-07T09:58:00.000+02:00

Manchester - what say you?

Yay? or Nay?

Jamie Livingston's Photo of the Day

2009-09-03T12:01:00.003+02:00

If you haven't already seen this I most definitely suggest you have a look at it. A man named Jamie Livingston photo documented his life from 1979 to his death in 1997. Each day (with a few exceptions of missing photos) he took a polaroid picture immortalising his memories.

It truly is all kinds of awesome and inspiring, heart-warming and heartbreaking all at the same time.

Photo of the Day

When did you stop being a bumby bear?

2009-08-24T18:50:00.008+02:00

Jambo! as Lindsay Lohan’s character in Mean Girls so delicately puts it. I’m back from that continent that starts with an AAH and ends with FREAK OUT. It’s been two good months. But I also have good hopes for the future autumn. For no discernable reason.

Today L told me of a man who ingested funnyfunny mushrooms. The man then went out in the 'woods' and there he met something which he was certain was a bumby bear. However, the bumby bear eventually turned aggressive on the man and he had to lock it up in his wardrobe. He later realized the bumby bear in his closet was in fact a human being, and a dwarf, at that. That must’ve been weird.

Let’s say that I take mushrooms today. That will probably make me meet La Roux, in this video, but the soundtrack will be this song. I would be very happy. But then suddenly I would stab her to death with my brand new set of BBQ-knives. For no discernable reason. And then I would snap out of it and the dead body would turn out to be the dead body not of La Roux but of Amy Diamond. Phew! They sort of sound the same at times but are, of course, totally different. Anywho. Part of the world would rejoice but I would go to jail in any case. Which I think is only fair. One cannot go around killing people, however pointless their existence. I believe in some kind of basic human value. Yeah. But in jail I would get everybody’s dessert because - generally - prison people don’t like Amy Diamond. And then I would probably regret the mushrooms and write another letter to Lindsay Lohan, this time urgently asking for spiritual guidance.

Edit: I'm afraid I forgot to type down the main purpose of this post, which was: Ape, can you please please please get a La Roux haircut? I can even consider paying for having it done.

Shoplifter Fail

2009-08-24T14:41:00.003+02:00

Okej, det här var mest roligt för att det är på Stora Torget. Kinda reference humour, only not at all.

Shoplifter Fail

"never felt this way before"

2009-08-21T18:11:00.004+02:00

I don't even like marriages, and I can't dance, but there is something strangely endearing about this vid. I like how they just go with it, just let loose. It's horribly pretentious, but on some level it feels like they know it. Still they do it.

And is it horribly wrong to keep imagining this as Lolly's wedding? Glen dressed up in white and the odds supporting him as Lolly raises her arms and him above her head.

Life Philosophy

2009-08-18T09:50:00.000+02:00

"My goal in life is to live each and every single menstrual cycle- different! Different and better than the last."

I like it. I think I shall adopt it.

The urge to watch.

2009-08-15T18:54:00.004+02:00

I've got this pressing urge to watch people interact. I'm not sure where it came from, but I am currently burning to regard people from a distance. To see their body language, see their lips move, but not being able to hear the actual words. I wanna sit and I wanna watch and I wanna imagine.

I feel like I want to become better at understanding people, somehow it feels as if people-watching would be the first step.

Monday perhaps. Now all I need to do is find a good place to watch people interact without my presence being a direct influence or interference.

I'm not the only one mentally flossing.

2009-08-13T21:20:00.003+02:00

It's a drug. An addiction. A vice. And a blessing. I simply cannot stop wanting to learn. I just want to absorb it all. Transform it. Make it mine.

Knowledge. That's what I'm talking about. This site helps. It doesn't cure me, but it helps.

http://www.mentalfloss.com/

I've got nothing.

2009-08-13T08:36:00.001+02:00

Men jag tror jag måste gå till tandläkarn så nu önskar jag att Dr Alban var min tandläkare. Jag tror jag ska kall min läkare Alban och låtsas lite.

Dagens Urklipp - Danne Fantom

2009-07-26T09:48:00.002+02:00

FBI Agent 1: Men, ni är ju bara nördar!
Geek-boy 1: Tekniskt sett är vi bara entusiaster.

Jag är nog entusiast jag med.

Watching Women

2009-07-24T21:04:00.004+02:00

Today I caught myself observing women and their behaviour. It was the kind of observation an anthropologist does of a foreign culture. It was the kind of observing that is done from an emotional distance. The outsider looking in. I was floating in a genderless state where I observed a group to which I did not count myself.

Then I accidentally poked myself in the boob with a broom and was completely and utterly shocked to realise I too am a woman.

Whip It!

2009-07-18T08:18:00.006+02:00

It seems incredibly shruggable, but they also know which buttons to push. Between the title, Peaches and Zoe Bell I kinda feel a need to see this.

"free-lance cheese cutter by trade" & random lesbians

2009-07-17T20:16:00.006+02:00

The lesbians showed me love by featuring my blog, so now I shall return the love and feature the lesbians.

And to make this summer a little bit perfect the 3Way gang have now posted an actual "full" episode of Ladycops. It is so perfect and filled with meta and cross-geeking that you hardly know what to do with yourself, other than to smile widely.

Summer of Discomfort Summary, Part 1

2009-07-11T09:21:00.003+02:00

So here we are, midsummer and I’m still alive. I’m not doing much though, I’m working, full-time. It’s a strange experience, but also strangely satisfying. Seeing how all you other guyses have kept me up to speed with what you are doing I thought I'd return the favour, this is my virtual postcard to you.

So far this summer has consisted of;

YouTube love:
21 and 24 Gear Up (as a matter of fact large parts of the summer has been spent recreating this scene on messenger)
Angels (HD has never looked as good as it does in this brilliant manipulation)
Dee Snider on censorship (this is what I strive to be)
Hero. (Childhood)

Listening to:
Amadou & Mariam – The Magic Couple
Gossip – Music For Men
Snow Patrol – Run - Revised Album Version
Various Artists – New Orleans Jazz Of The 1920s

Reading:
Queer Theology ed. Gerard Loughlin
Crip Theory ed. Robert McRuer

Temptations:
8-bit tie
Soundtrack Shirt
Free Time Watch
Andy Richter Controls the Universe
The Venture Bros. - season 2
Squirrelly T-shirt

When it comes to the discomfort I’m actually doing good. I’ve engaged in some anger, which is not a usual feeling for me to revel in and I’m doing far too well with the angry queer thing (to the extent that I found Ice Age 3 troubling). I am also about to spend a lot of money on pointless gadgets/t-shirts. However when it comes to clean, I am still going with the whole fresh theme so I guess I'm failing there.

All in all a very interesting summer so far. Stay tuned for part 2, it should be here some time mid-August.

Dagens Urklipp - Verkligheten

2009-07-02T17:13:00.003+02:00

It's called a Freudian Capslip.

Lolly says:
jag hatar att jobba
jag ska bli hemmafru
Ape -- Co-Founder of LSE says:
oj planer
men döda inte nån
och gräv inte ner hemligheter
inte bra
har jag sett på tv
Lolly says:
JAG ÄR INTE DESPERAT

Gone fishing.

2009-06-09T01:30:00.002+02:00

I will go away today. I am going south and I will be back sometime in August. You will probably flourish while I’m gone. See the world in another light. Maybe it will seem brighter. Eventually, you might even think that I’ve been smothering you and you will begin to dread my return. But know this! No one sees you like I see you. People love you, no doubt. But I look at you and I see diamonds, I see clusters of stars brightly shining and I dare bask in the beauty of it. Cut me out and you are left a mere mortal; ignore me and you black out a part of yourself.

Miss me, as I shall miss you.

Finally, do not listen to people with split tongues. Their words are not exactly lies, but nor can they possibly speak the truth. And for God’s sake: floss, even though it’s summer. Libidoly speaking, tooth decay is a hundred times more destructive than a split tongue.

That is all.

No, wait, a donkeymentary. The "Mr Bush" featured in the clip once hired J to work as a chicken dealer and is currently a member of the parliament.

Public Announcement.

2009-06-07T19:19:00.003+02:00

Instead of Alive, this week we'll have a small public announcement.

Spoofing.

2009-06-02T11:11:00.004+02:00

Some solid spoofing: Bonnie Tyler Love

Is it all just one cosmic joke of a coincidence that today's FAIL is this? Or does art imitate life imitate art?

Veckans Idolbild

2009-05-31T10:50:00.002+02:00

Life - the perpetual nap. + Alive 31/5-09

2009-05-31T10:39:00.006+02:00

The sky is clear blue. The sun is bright. The warmth is heat.

And all I do is nap and read. I have no energy, no energy at all. I'm a lazy fat cat lapping up the sun. No work, no studying, no nothing. And the best thing, even my mind is a nothing. It is fucking brilliant.

How about you? You alive?

And this week's vid: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Tu0PAbW75A
And this week's song: Dolly Parton – Working Girl

Jesus "loves" me.

2009-05-30T12:19:00.006+02:00

I got a brand new old bike. It’s blue and charming with silvery details. Got it for free from the Jansson’s, I did. They’re good people, thoroughly reliable. If they would run for mandates in the EU, they would definitely get my vote.

I’m thinking of repainting their house, to surprise them, as a thank you. Maybe fuchsia. Maybe not the whole house, as I have neither the time nor the money. Their front door perhaps. Maybe I’ll just decorate the door with stickers. Various unique stickers. And not like that old Subaru we bought years ago that was covered with Jesus-loves-you-stickers, exclusively. No, I would offer mixed messages. On the Jansson door. IF I had the time.

Amazing grace, cookies on sale.

2009-05-28T18:13:00.008+02:00

I go around praising nature, but am really complimenting man’s domination of it. Flowery pasture fields, neat bushes along the road, planted trees and newly mowed lawns. I choose to see harmony before subordination, and I take pleasure in it. For that I feel cheap. Then I go around disliking people for what they are, while wondering whether it wouldn’t be better to pity us for what we can never be. For that I am confused. Then I go around dreaming of all the things I want to be, until I clash with the things I most likely will become, or already am.

Neat bushes along the road. And I still see harmony.

Omtänksamhet

2009-05-26T23:45:00.002+02:00

Elsa döljer sina tår, för att jag sa att jag inte gillar sandaler där man ser tårna.
Så agerar endast en sann vän.

Alive 23/05

2009-05-24T22:01:00.001+02:00

Are you?

Not one original thought.

2009-05-22T15:50:00.003+02:00

Every thought there possible is appears to already have been thunked. So why do we keep thinking? Why do we live our lives on repeat? And how come we ever even harboured notions of time being a linear concept?

Also I should start working on a tentative itinerary for my US trip. So what do you guys think I should visit? As long as a Greyhound Coach stops in the general vicinity I'm all aboard any suggestions. So hit me with one.

And in unrelated news, here's this weeks top 5:
Erasure - Little respect
Anders & Putte - Elisabeth
30 Rock - Kidney Now - HD
Knorkator - Try Again-
Seasons of Love from RENT the movie

And this weeks link:
walkingman.org

And the album of the week:
Peaches – I Feel Cream

Nothing to see here...

2009-05-21T08:41:00.000+02:00

www.maninthedark.com

...not really.

feeling disabled over here!

2009-05-20T19:58:00.005+02:00

You know how kids with dyslexia get extra help in school, or how disabled kids get wheelchair access and stuff like that. Could I get a personal tutor and ass-into-gear-kicker?

Cause I really need one. Someone with enough authority to sit me down and make me do the work I am supposed to do. Like a study-buddy with a whip and no carrots.

I really, really need one. I'm poor, I've also got poor coordination and eyes-sight and I can't cook (not really) so I've got nothing to offer in return, but I still need an authoritative study-buddy once autumn comes around. So if you know anyone who take pity on fools and carries a whip, point them in my direction.

And while we wait for my saviour lets listen to Tobias Fünke's long lost twin sing;

Äntligen lite hud...

2009-05-20T10:36:00.001+02:00

Bror skickade mig denna fantastiska länk!
Good to be home!

http://www.vertigo.se/

Update

2009-05-19T22:14:00.002+02:00

So Lolly got home safely from war-zone, ignored the K-Mart, had a pizza and was taught how to play poker by Mousse. Ape tried to help instructing, but no one really heard what the Ape said. Cookies were had, popcorns munched and plans for some sort of exit-urban exploration walk were laid out. Lolly was told of the contemporary Sweden: Reinfeldt & co secretly putting pieces of glass in frozen chicken (and sausages, beer and pyttipanna) and then that alluring place called Spotify to which everyone seems to have found their way. She was puzzled, and in awe. Had too much changed? Did she perhaps long back to isolation?

Music: David Bowie
Food: Pizza
Topic: Trauma
Activity: Card games
Wronged: tiny

Foul-tasting.

2009-05-19T21:53:00.009+02:00

My skin is falling off in large chunks, my feet got left in the bathroom. They were in the way, so I put them in the shower. They were already off by then. I honestly don’t know why. And my hair fell off last week, but I glued it back on and put on a beret, my black beret. It looked okay. Someone asked if I was all right, what with my hair looking weird and all, but I just laughed and joked and smiled and there was nothing more to say about that. I haven’t had nails in a month and sometime along the way my stomach must’ve corroded and disintegrated because everytime I eat it stings like fire and I shit blood. So I just stopped eating, figured it would solve the problem. Now blood is coming out my throat instead, because I keep coughing, and I can’t seem to stop. And there’s all this mail coming in, hundreds of letters piling up in the hallway! But as I have no feet and don’t really feel like crawling on my lately skinless knees, all I can do is lay here and watch the mail multiply by each bloody cough. I believe it’s mostly bills, but I have no proof of that. What’s more, the glue I used for my hair seems to have attracted worms. From where, I can’t imagine. I can feel them move on my head and around my ears. But if these worms are anything at all like maggots, they won’t eat the live parts of me, only the dead; all the skin that has fallen off and is spread around me. And that torn spot where my feet were once attached. Yes, the worms are there, too. Maybe they were maggots all the time.

Alive 17/5

2009-05-17T21:55:00.003+02:00

once again i've shirked my responsibilies. if it makes you feel better, i can tell you i feel horrible about it.

but this week isn't about me. i would like to officially welcome Lolly back into the fold. (i hope that's okay; me being the official spokesperson here.) i would love to hear what all my friends have been up to, but a comment from You would make me very happy.

and i'm not too proud to beg. see...

please?

Veckans idolbild

2009-05-17T00:15:00.005+02:00

And I walk away bruised.

2009-05-16T18:17:00.007+02:00

As I woke up this morning to a new set of bruises I couldn't help wonder; How common an occurrence is bruising as a consequence of social interactions? Is it standard practice to always walk away physically bruised? Cause it sure appears to be standard in my circle, the one you are in.

See I've got nothing against it, perhaps I even revel in it, but that doesn't stop me from wondering if this is how other people interact. Or at least people our age, cause as I remember bruises and scrapes were very common around the same time as you ate dirt. At the age of 24 (kinda) however...I'm curious.

http://open.spotify.com/track/5tZNWMJbL2Ti1xm1zlTMyr

Bloody Brilliant & Colonel Angus

2009-05-12T13:19:00.010+02:00

The two are not related.

I'm not really a fan of JET, but the P0YKPAC gang made their latest video and it's kinda awesome.

SNL - Colonel Angus