I noticed that my blog used to be a lot more random, and today will be the last day I will be able to post in August, so why not make August a bit more crowded?

Several posts a day isn't cheating anyway!

Autumn Break

in October every student and teacher will be blessed with Autumn break in Norway. The original name is actually "Potato holiday", every child was given this to go to the country and help the farmers pick potatoes.

Nowadays the farmers don't need that much labour power, even though the holiday remains. It is therefore best spent inside in the warmth eating and playing computergames.

My turbulent Relationship

Sometimes I find the similarities between a very emotionally unstabile person and my ipod to be strikingly many.

During summer people tend to be playful and loud, such do my iPod, it plays and plays and plays. Just like people do during summer.

Last year Norway hit the number one of the Top 10 of countries in Europe that bought the most accessories to their iPods. Due to obvious reasons of course, as I have learnt the hard way.

My iPod usually turned itself off when it got too cold, which would be at any time during the day a part from if it was plugged into a charger under a woolen blanket. Usually when my iPod died like this, I assumed it was out of batteries, though it was actually a cry for love.

Should I have bought expensive accessories and things that sparkle, or should I've done what I did, which was to press it against my warm chest, embracing it with love?

I hid the iPod in my bra. The perfect place to hide an iPod under cold conditions, this way it would feed off my warmth and play and play, just like in summertime. Though as I during several trips abroad had purchased heavy amounts of cleavaged garments found this method to be unrewarding in the long run. It became impossible to hide this huge white original-model iPod inside my tops.

My iPod froze me out.
Hated me, didn't play anything for me. Gave me the fucking silent treatment. I tried and tried, but it was only after those expensive accessories or the undying love of my warm body.

I chose neither.
And as a last note:
My iPod doesn't play me much music now, it slams doors shut in my face, yells at me and turns every little thing into a major fight.
Like "you never synchronise me with your iTunes library anymore! Why don't you love me? WHY DON'T YOU?!" *Throws vase* *screams* *slams doors*.

We are, indeed, my iPod and I, going through a really hard time.

The Geeks are trying to reach an agreement

And the discussion is very entertaining!

I was as usual reading through the Off-topic forums for World of Warcraft, when I discovered the thread discussing the discussion of all discussions!

Of course this is even more amusing if you happen to be a viking.

It's sure worth a giggle:
Why are Swedish/Norwegian girls so hot?
If you want to have a look at something else I stumbled upon the other day, there's a random comparison of Swedish and English nightlife at google video.


Dr. Crane

The long-necked bird known as a "Crane" is not the thing I'm talking about now.

I'm talking about those tall, GIANT, usually yellow cranes that are used at building sites. You see, they are absolutely huge! They are huge! Yet I have never seen them "folded up" or ever seen them being built or torn down. And I wonder how it's possible for something that big to be so invisible!

I'm starting to think they just grow up from dirt like mushrooms! They just pop up in-between the scenery as if they've always been there.

Always been over-dimensioned yellow cranes that nobody knows how got there.
I've asked a lot of people I know. And it seems it is either some sort of conspiracy, or the origin of these cranes is actually unknown among most people!

Where do they come from? How are they built? And what are they eating to become so huge?
Must be raisins.
Yellow raisins. Cranes only like things that are yellow.


I once created an account for someone else, somewhere I don't know where is right now. And I had to fill in his account details, like mail-adress and password and such.

When I told him his password was "chickenpita" he started laughing so hard I felt a bit worried for his health.

After that he completely stopped taking me seriously and thinks I am a clown! And I didn't even consider the fact that "chickenpita" was such a far-fetched word.

At least I don't after hearing of the band called "Hooray-torpedo!" (Hurra-torpedo). Zomg.


Salt my brain!

But my books please

National school reform 1997.

Everyone born in 1989 skips 2nd grade and is from then on going through all the shit the school system can manage to toss on them.
They will discover that after 1997, their everyday school-life will be living hell.

The 1989-ers found themselves beginning with a stab of teachers, the one violent with a ruler got fired, the rest were retarded.
The 1989-ers had to live in a barrack-creation that the teachers liked to call "pavillion" for 2 years. The year they left of course, the new students got fit into a new high-tech school-building.

Everyone born in 1989 felt a bit stumpet when they were dumpet BEHIND a second reform called "Promise of Knowledge" (Kunnskapsløftet). This meant that they had to use the schoolbooks and curriculum from last reform, making it impossible for them to sell their schoolbooks when they were done with them. Not only did they have to learn out of outdated, dirty, 9-year old books.

The school then continued to screw them over with forcing a bit of nynorsk on them that the year OVER them didn't have to have. So both the classes over and under were granted these lovely privileges that they couldn't have.

They then ate ice cream and mango-yoghurt and lived very very happy ever ever after!

Feel Pleasure from Just imagine how wonderful your life would become

Introducing a great product which will make you a better, more
confident man! You will be pleased with the surprisingly great results after
weeks, or even days.
By adding inches you are adding appeal, confidence and hype about you
among women. Longer, better, more enjoyable - start expecting the fun
you will have right now!
This is what you always needed to lead a happier, more fulfilling life.

It takes one to know one Nah tek yuh mattie eye fuh see. The country
is in ruins, and there are still mountains and rivers - japanese proverb
There is no jollity but hath a smack of folly


My inbox contains more fun that half a twice a double quarter disneyland!

The Guide to your hair

Gentlemen. Listen here.
All of these out there have got it right.
Lead singer in the Kooks, lead singer in The Automatic, lead singer in Mystic Jets, Axl Rose, Bono from U2, members of Snow Patrol, Orlando Bloom, Jon bon Jovi, Santa Claus, Dumbledore, Ozzy Osbourne, vocalist in Razorlight, both members of Röyksopp, Gene Simmons, Viggo Mortensen, Erlend Öye, Mick Jagger, EVERY single fraggle in Fraggle Rock, Steve Tyler, even nearly all the members of The Verve too!
See? And there's more of them!

They all have long hair.
I'm not saying you are to grow a mane of untidy, dirty, repulsive flocks.
I'm saying you should grow a healthy, shiny, clean and soft crown of beautiful locks.


Hear me now.

  • No facial hair

  • No fucking moustaches, sideburns, ruffs, coiffurs or beards!

  • A wonderfully trimmed, always clean hairdo is what you need

  • No "skinning it all off" or any shit like that

  • Spikes are welcome

  • Let loose your curls if you have any baby! Let loose the curls!

  • No waist-long braids or any other sick Lord of the Rings creations

  • The hair should cover your ears, can reach your shoulders without being a catastrophe of course

  • No ponytails. No bloody ponytails

  • And last - no ponytails - For the love of God.

And I want this to be true.

Thank you sir!

Try knitting!

My lovely friend Kida borrowed me the audio book called Day of the Triffids by John Wyndham which lasted for about three hours.

This book is absolutely excellent, and it really really makes you think. Like, really.

I found it hard to sit and listen without doing nothing so I found some repulsive orange yarn and tried knitting. I'm not very good at knitting, I only just realised that. The result looks like something out of Norwegian Idol (this of course does not include the wonderful Kurt Nilsen). No really, it was actually that retarded.

Eventually I ended up knitting, then ripping it apart and then knitting it over again. This prove no results.

Suggest you listen to the audiobook, or read the book itself, about Day of the Triffids, because it was as expected absolutely terrific. I also suggest you try painting, drawing, ploughing, baking, sewing, dancing, sleeping, hopping, cleaning, driving, climbing, stacking, shopping or fidgeting instead of knitting when listening to or reading this book.

I just want the best for you.


"I cannot fathom how one's age can play such significant role and a deciding factor (...)"

I read this somewhere today. In somebody elses blog I believe it to be. And those words wouldn't have done anything to me a year ago, really, they wouldn't. But right now I think I can give some bigger meaning to them.

Sometimes the internet can be the best place to seek comfort or safety, to find an ear that listens closely, to find your own community, to meet new people.

I've never been good at guessing anyones age. If a woman walked up to me and asked me how old I think she is, experience confirms I'll miss it with about 12 years. I usually always safe it by guessing a few ages under what I really think.
After all, I don't want to offend anyone.
But it would be the same if someone I met across the internet asked me, experience confirms I'll miss with anything from 30 to 5 years. I wish I had prepared statistics for you.

Through this internet, were ages are even harder to define or to guess, or an ear that listens closely could be anyone anywhere at any age, I have grown more aware of the use of a persons age as a derogatery term. Being old makes you a pig, being young makes you dumb. Being somewhere in-between makes you perfect, you know everything, this also gives you the right to throw these years around you like they were yours to play with.

Do the screen just shelter us from the eyes of those who read what we type?
Or is it really used as a tool to push people underneath your giant ego, is it a way you can use a forum, a blog, a website, a commenting system or e-mails, to further chase the planet to evolve around you? Because that's what it does, doesn't it?

The planet is there purely for your excistence, you forget you have been young, you forget you used to think you knew everything, anyway that's just silly, you know everyhing now. You didn't know anything before. You need to guide those minds, to tell them how foolish they are. After all they will never understand how little they know unless you push that up their noses. Why make them think they know anything anyway? Why make them think they have an opinion, why listen to them speak?

And why turn to listen to those older than yourself? What do they have to tell you that can possibly be important?

You will never grow old and start telling other how things should be done.
You will never end up like them, down there. Evolving around you.

Old fools.

But age doesn't define the importance of a word. If I was twelve years old and told you I loved you, I would love just just as much, even though I was 77. It is the intention and thought behind a word that really matters. We cannot see the age of a person clrealy, especially not across the world, over the internet, like this. So why allow ourselves or others to show prejudice towards a person that is not as old as yourself?

To be your age. Is that wrong?

The only one worthy

After a game of Mallet's Mallet" over at Eatfoss.com a lot of comments were made about my little brother Torsteins amazing English for being an 11 year old Norwegian!

If not stunning, then I'll tell you something about my little brother that truly is stunning!

Because being the only younger sibling I have, he is the only one right to inherit the loony-ness from me. He has in many ways already showed why. I am his tutor in this crazy world.

Like this one time he was sitting on the top of his bunk-bed and I was sitting in front of my Mac in the same room. I wasn't really paying attention to what he was doing, until I heard mysterious ripping noises. I turned around to discover that he had glued a big piece of cardboard to his face. He then gave a laugh and tried to peel the cardboard off his forehead.

In Norway the Tooth-fairy collects teeth from glasses of water instead of from under you pillow, like foreign tooth-fairies do. And I was storing my newly felt tooth in a glass of water on my bedside table just like this. But the morning when I woke up, the tooth was gone. And there was no money left behind as exchange! Torstein said at breakfast he was glad I had a glass of water in my room, because he had been so THIRSTY last night. That's right, he fucking ATE my tooth.

Also, this is enough proof:

He is really too young to be published to the internet, so I might remove this picture if I get to think about it.
And YES he is wearing my underwear with fish on his head, my socks on his hands and holding Fruits of the Forest dish-washing liquid. *sniffle* I'm so proud.


Since everyone in Norway bring their own lunch to school and work, there's a very limited service for food at school and work places.

Some offices have a café or a cafeteria, schools from 8th grade and up also have a few dairy products for sale. From 1st to 7th grade, on the other hand, ever since 1971, have provided a service called "School-milk". Norwegians drink a LOT of milk. We swallow it down in bucket loads, use it for basically everything within cooking and insist on it's healthy qualities. The Norwegians have always been very proud of their huge intake of milk.

For an annual fee, pupils from 1st-7th grade get milk at school. Usually the class representative(s) have as a job to run to the school kitchen to fetch the milk during lunch.
I've witnessed many different kinds of classes, were most of them had a "race" to be allowed to go fetch the milk. While others have actually reduced themselves to tears to be excused from going to get it.
I've never experienced a full class that pay for milk though, and those that have done it (like myself) usually used the milk to toss it around the classroom, spill it all over, throw it out, empty it over somebody, leave it in the schools air-shafts for future pain or simply drink it. Few have actually used the last alternative.

You can still get School Milk for your Norwegian children in school.

Edit: Apparently you don't need a license to get school milk at school.

Instead of

- Eating all the good fish ourselves, Norwegians export their fish to other countries.
- Using all our waterfalls to produce electricity we can use, we sell all the electricity to other countries and buy electricity back to push up the cost of electricity in Norway.
- Becoming a member of the UN, we just follow all their regulations and rules, but get nothing back for that except from closed playgrounds and withdrawn cars.
- Making ramps at every zebra-crossing around Karl Johans Gate (Oslo main street) we decided to dig up the entire road and make it all over again, AGAIN, so that handicapped can use the pavement.
- Removing the subject "Nynorsk" (Norways useless second written language next to "Bokmål") from school to improve students skill within maths/languages/science, they removed Economics instead.
- Making the right priorities and use their heads, the Norwegian government has decided to spend as much money as possible on the most useless things.
- Writing something funny or amusing, I decide to declare this day as my "politically engaged" day. Note that this is the only day of the year.

Links of a VIKING

Discover my dear, let your eyes dwell softly upon the Blogs and Sites I have linked on my sidebar.

In addition to all the ones I used to have, I have also added some hot new stuff - Then only to sort them alphabetically! WOW!

Light upon *poke* *poke* h-hello? the blog of tha bestest person there is, haven't been updated in a while I notice. But if you're looking for something random, brilliant and slightly out of the ordinary, I'm sure you'll find it satisfying.

Browse through Eat Foss a splendid blog about nothing and everything, very well written in addition! Might be for the specially interested, but if you want to learn more about the car called Flo, milk and Captain C*smic and the Daves, this is tha blog for you.

Visit Eat Mab which is basically just babble that haven't been updated EITHER, but that will secure you a laugh or ninety. Rawr.

Spot Earth, Wind & Water, Musings on life on earth, in the air and under the water. See the sparkling wildlife photos and learn lots of stuff about pineapples (I did!). A blog with a comfortable atmosphere.

Come upon Frankly my dear... This is my most recent discovery, a freshly started blogger tells you all there is to know about his cat and dog, perhaps even his Filofax or his noisy neighbours. He also drives a blue car and gives you little nibbles of random and amusing things! You'll all love it!

Bump into Foss n Lya Show the amazing show produced by a hot brit and a Norwegian with too many shoes. Together they're like dynamite and produce a show far beyond anything you've ever seen. The show has only but started, don't miss the climatic ending! GO SEE IT!

Perceive Phrost.co.uk, the website of Lewis, a friend I made through World of Warcraft. He shows what he can create in 3D, 2D or through web-design. Wonderful! He also makes games, animations and tutorials, the site is a bit starved of updates, but if you're lucky you'll catch one.

Observe Rehab the ranting place where I write shit about a fictional blogger. It's not very amusing right now, but it might be later on. Anyway, let's move on.

Nose out Ryaninja What is there to say? This is the blog of Ryan, he drives a motorbike, sometimes he's a bit emo, but most of the time he handles it well and can be fucking hilarious. Check it out, kkkkkkkkk.

Dig up Schpaa. If I previously used random in any of the other blog descriptions, well then this blog covers that even better. The blog is written by Kida and myself.

Ferret out (shit, running out of words) Get out of my fridge please This is written by a person I ALSO met through World of Warcraft. He's good at spouting shit, he's very tall and has a special and freaky sense of humour. He is obsessed with getting things out of his fridge, but is not completely fanatic. I think you'll like it.

Eye Things as they happen by Tom O'Brien. His posts can be very long at times, but he uses them well and can at times be quite funny :) He's got mullet hair and is a radio presenter, which makes him awesome and special.


What Type Of Retro Gal Are You?

You are the playful pin-up! Do you know how to be serious?
Take this quiz!

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Nacho Supreme

Hola amigo!

Today I'm going to tell you how to cook something that is not Norwegian at all!. It might not be mexican either, but let's pretend like it is.


You will Need:

- Nacho chips/ tortilla chips, the one you prefer
- An oven heated to +180 C
- Cheese, I prefer a light cheddar
- bacon!
- salsa

Start by squeezing lemons, freezing them with tequila and serve it in cold glasses edged with salt. This is called a margherita, and is vital for the recipe to function. After getting suitably comfortable within the world of spirits:

Empty the lot of chips on a tray, slice the cheese and cover most of the chips, make sure you always have some spare cheese you can give to the drooling rottweiller beside you.
Fry up tha bacon and empty it over the nachos n' cheese. Use a spoon to spread salsa over the top, if you're serving this to others than yourself, use mild salsa, I'm not joking. I don't care if "you have balls", the salsa flavour isn't supposed to dominate everything, and you are allowed to serve hot! - salsa at the side if you want.

Now slam the tray in the oven and time it for about 7 minutes. Use this time wisely to stack all the dishes and your mess into one corner of the kitchen and have some more margherita.

When the timer lets you know, check if the cheese has melted and is bubbling. Don't let it stay in for longer than 10 minutes in total, the nachos are supposed to be warmed and not burnt.

When it all looks perfect for your needs, take it out of the oven and serve hot.
if you'd like, best served with:
Guacamole and Sour cream to soothe a sensitive tongue, also hot salsa at the side for specially interested.

Can't go wrong! If you're a bad cook, just get your guests suitably drunk and they wont ever know.

Food fanatic

I woke up with the word "fanatic" in my head this morning, and I don't know why. I then proceeded to do what I like to do the most, which is to eat food.

So somehow, these two words got added together to create a seperate category of "Food Fanatics". Then I got to think of how great that would make it on my CV for later, you know:

- blah blah blah
- English and Norwegian pretty fluent, some random french
- Basic ability to understand Swedish and Danish
- Can count to ten in both Italian and German
- Sometimes I can remember the alphabet
- Know major parts of the times table
- Can draw chicken blindfolded
- Is also a Food Fanatic.

See how the Food Fanatic sort of finishes it all off so well? It adds elegance and gives an impression of having a rank, a meaning to yourself. Like a person that is engaged in political matters, or a person that is working hard to remove Nynorsk from the Norwegian students curriculum. And fanatic sounds so sophisticated if you don't know the exact meaning of it, you know. When you're not aware of it actually being obsessed with something.

I just need to define it. What is a Food Fanatic?

Stinky has left the building

My only big brother moved out of the house today.
You will know him as Skjalg, which is ancient norwegian for "Cross-eyed" or "bent", but I have also granted him other nicknames, such as "Sharky-tom", "Glaiks", "Glarg" and "Stinky". He seemed relieved about finally leaving. So did I.
In fact.
I didn't just seem relieved, I am relieved. But we're mostly talking general pleasure of privacy!

Because he didn't just go to live in our grandparents basement to study and get fat, he also left a void.
Granting me a new bedroom in the attic, a box full of batteries, a drawer full of condoms, some CD's, a tin full of coins and countless porn-magazines.

So I'll get plenty of privacy to listen to music, read un-sophisticated literature while stuffing condoms full of batteries and flipping coins.

After eight years sleeping in a hallway, you understand why I'm finally happy about getting Stinky out of the way. So, so long Stinky!
Take care! <3

Jellyfish is teh mean to me

Yesterday, I woke up with Gnarls Barkley's "Smiley Faces" in my head. So I had to battle with LimeWire for ages before it would finally give me a song that was not a faux. I then felt like a guilty pirate and I bought "Smiley faces" from iTunes instead.

I then had breakfast with my strange family, it was my cancer-infected-stepdads birthday, so we had set it all up nicely. We then packed our stuff and went to the beach! It was lovely weather and it was all wonderful and we were all alone and topless. My older sister and my older brother went to a very famous (and expensive) bakery called Pascal and bought this delicious chocolate cake that we enjoyed at the beach.

We even made our freaky water-hating rottweiller dive into the sea by own free will. Though as we went for a last little dip, this tiny jellyfish came out of nowhere when I was underwater, it had these long thread-tentacle thingies and grabbed my face and the entire right side of my body! Eeep. It hurt quite a lot. It was stinging and itching and hurting, making me restlessly moving around. Went home right after and hopped in the shower.

Then rubbed myself with the gel of wonders called Fenistil. It made it all better, in case of my face, it made the pain go completely away.

It certainly saved my day.
Thank you Fenistil, I love you!


I'm sure you've seen the TV-chef called Nigella Lawson. If I was a man I'd grab her by the ankles and drag her home with me! I'd club her in the head unless she cooked me lime parfaits and large buckets of chocolate mousse, then only to enjoy the meal together with her and her sparkly eyes.

I'm surely not obsessed with her! It's the thing that she does with the food she makes! Just the towers of cream, the tilting mountains of whatever deep fried and custard-filled. Whatever it would be next, it would be tender or soft or chilling-numb, perhaps even softly warm. The food! The way she stirs it, watches the butter melt and crackle until she pours batter in the pan and let's out satisfying "f-shhhhhs"es. She'll lick her fingers and hum with pleasure.

Just, somebody grab that woman!

And YES - before anyone asks - I have recently been watching BBC Food. Now go get Nigella Lawson before anyone else does it. Do it! Do it right now!

How are you by the way? Nice seeing you again. And like that, I close my post number 100. //Saluté!
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