Monday, March 29, 2004

No computer and no TV makes Roy go crazy...

This "no computer"- thing is really starting to get to me. After having been used to being online every second I'm at home, and in constant reach of my friends on Messenger, having no computer is absolute rubbish. I can't even see what's on tv tonight for Pete's sake.

Well, we went to see Arsenal yesterday which was pretty good, a draw against United is never bad, though Arsenal deserved the win. The day didn't get any worse when we won the pub quiz and 9 pints. To be honest, John and Kristian did most of the work, but they put my name on it, and I wasn't late to take credit. After the game it seems there was some sort of bust up between the Arsenal players, which is stupid, especially considering the Nevilles were there to throw punches at.

We saw Good Bye, Lenin! and 25th Hour, which are both highly recomendable. And I've discovered that my moustache looks really silly, so that's probably going to go when I get home. Which is too bad, because It would be really cool to look good with a moustache.
Oh, and I had a weird dream where I was being chased by Erroll Flynn, who was dressed like a wizzard and throwing coloured magic balloons at me. And he was freakishly small. It was really weird, especially because i just remember his angry little face, and have had to ask people all day Who was that guy who played Robin Hood, because I don't really don't know a lot about Mr. Flynn...

Well, that's it for today.

Tuesday, March 23, 2004

Amazingly, my computer is still completely useless, and nothing has happened. I just figured I had to give some proof of life, before the blog was forever dismissed as being dead.
Remember to put your money on 2-1 to the Arsenal tomorrow.

Thursday, March 18, 2004

A fiddely-diddely fiddely-dee....

So, St. Paddy's Day is well and over, and it's return to normal doings. In a weird kind of St. Paddys' Day miracle my computer actually worked yesterday, but today it's as crap as useless as ever, so I've had to go use the computer at school. Mainly to check my email, and see if I'd won in the lottery (which I apparently didn't).

Paddy's Day was a bit of alright. There were a surprising amount of Irish people there, considering the relatively small town we live in, and there were the usual group of old Danish farts who were only looking to be pathetic and grope much younger women. If I ever become like that, please give me a good old punch up the bracket. And speaking of old Danish, a friend of mine had a birthday thing this morning, and served 'Gammel Dansk', which by the way is not a good cure for my wee hangover.

Do you remember those old Mark van Bommel-to-Arsenal rumours? Well, apparently he's decided to pull a Defoe, as he realized he's probably more of a Sp*rs player anyway... Apart from that, he's also a curly haired git, who was completely useless when Arsenal beat PSV.

Oh, and speaking of football, some guy came into the pub yesterday with a Blackburn scarf with a Union Jack on it. Not a smart move, unless you like having old, drunk Irish women screaming at you.
Oh, and I'll never understand Irish music. What's with that fiddle?

Wednesday, March 17, 2004

I wanted to write something about it being St. Patrick's Day an' all, but I can't come up with anything as cool as Mr. Arseblogger. So that's it. Now I'll go out and get a couple of pints. Happy St. Paddy's Day.

Tuesday, March 16, 2004

In the rapidly declining collection of VHS movies for rent, the only movie I could find that looked mildly interesting was Wilbur wants to kill Himself, which was a bit of a mistake since it is brutally dull. It looked okay on paper, and definitely had some potential, but it all got killed by an extremely slow pace and some dialogue which must have lost some details when it was translated from Danish to English. And don't even get me started on Danish prettyboy actor Mads Mikkelsen, who was unbelievably unbelievable as a Danish doctor with a German name and absolutely no acting talent. How he ever became famous in Denmark will forever be a mystery.

William Gallas is a cry-baby.

When I'm at my parents' place I usually go for a walk around town, and out to the nearby forrest, just to see what's going on in this very little community. Today was no exception, and I walked out to the forrest. On my way back from the forrest I went by the local scout's cabin. In the ditch outside the cabin I noticed there was a surprising amount of empty wine boxes, almost all of the label Don Garcia. As I went back towards town I could follow a trail of empty Don Garcias in the ditch. There was about 30 boxes of wine on that relatively short stretch, and I would like to pose the question: What the hell kind of scouts live in this town? And more importantly, what kind of badge do you get for drinking 30 liters of cheap red wine?

As always when I'm visiting my parents I don't quite know what to do with myself. I have a feeling I will go up to the video shop/local gas station tonight and see if they have any obscure movies I haven't seen yet. I have a pretty good feeling they'll have the complete works of the infamous Russian Indie movie tycoon Jerzy Bruckheimovich, including the classic satire on modern American society Le Roque, where he sublimely turned an abandoned prison into a mini version of Americas war with Iraq (7 years before it actually took place), except that there actually was weapons of mass destruction on Alcatraz. The ironi of that movie was was amazing. His latest opus Mal Hommes Deux delicately deals with problems of being a gay police couple in a Bush-era America where same sex marriage is illegal. Also Bruckheimovich, with his old marxist approach makes brilliant satire over a Neo-Facist American government that encourages vigilante cops with a shoot first, ask questions later-attitude (again the war in Iraq), but is unable to deal with the same people's alternative lifestyles. The very title Mal Hommes is a reflection of how the 2 protagonists fail to live up to the Bush administraions ideas of an Uber mench.

Yup, I think I'm going to see Mal Hommes Deux tonight.

Monday, March 15, 2004

Mediocre people do exceptional things alle the time

As earlier mentioned my computer is going through a difficult period, almost certainly ending with a severe case of death. Hopefully I will be able to buy a new used computer from one of my friends, and put my old harddisc into it thereby keeping all my old crap that I have written through the years. In the movie I suppose my computer will be played by Minnie Driver and I will be played by David Duchovny, and we will live happily ever after. Far fetched?

I'm listening to the Ok Go album I bought in London. I'm pretty sure that when they sing Mediocre people do exceptional things alle the time they're not singing about Manchester City beating the living daylights out of United. But they easily could be, and wouldn't it be great if they were?

And now we're talking about footie, I must say that I'm very impressed with how Kristian has combined his loves for Ray Parlour and Thierry Henry by designing arguably the first ever Parlour 14 shirt.

Since I have been working all week and my computer has been dead, I have precious little to report from the last 5 days, but now I have left the city for my parents country-side house/laundromat, so maybe I'll experience something interesting later and be able to make a decent post. And maybe I'll just watch bad reality tv all night...

Wednesday, March 10, 2004

I propose someone invents some sort of Googlectomy device that can remove specific words from your blog from Google.
Example: At one point I used a certain word to describe the girls from T.A.T.U. If you don't know exactly which word it is, I can tell you it is also the title of a book about Professor Humbert Humbert and a young girl. You know the word, eh? Ever since, I've had quite a few hits on my page by people looking for pictures of that sort of girls, doing different things. Now, I would like to remove that one word, not necessarily from my weblog, but just so people won't find my blog when searching for it on google.
I don't mind if people find my blog searching for Vinny Jones Drunken giraffe, Freddie Ljungberg hot rodeo moustache or whatever people like to search for. This site might even be their best bet. It's just that one simple word I would like to move. What to do, what to do. Somebody must invent the googlectomy!

Aarhus Sporveje is out of control!
A bus ticket in Aarhus cost 17dkr. To bring this into perspective a 10-pack of sausages, which will make dinner for 3/4 days, cost 14dkr. 1,5 liters of Light Coca Cola cost about 15dkr in the supermarked. A pint of beer is 25 at the pub. For me to go to work and back thus is about 34dkr out of the window. For 34 bucks I could buy actual food in stead of sausages.
Yesterday I got a ticket for riding the bus without a ticket, and it set me back 500 dkr, which is 60 bucks more than a ticket from London to Aarhus with Ryanair, or alternatively 33 10-packs of sausages. I was a bit bummed out about it, but in otherwise good spirits, when I went in there to pay my fine. One of my friends had told me I only had to pay 250 because I was a student. I didn't really believe him, but figured I'd better ask anyway. And then the old hag standing behind the counter went totally mad, going into a rant about how I certainly wasn't allowed to cheat with the busfare just because I was a student, and how other decent people had to pay extra because people like me didn't pay in the bus. So much for service. I like the fact that she just assumed I was some kind of anarchist/terrorist who never pay for anything and try to break down the system. I mean; there could have been a 100 reasons why I didn't buy a ticket. I'd forgotton my wallet. The gas station used to sell tickets, but have stopped for some reason, leaving me stranded in the middle of nowhere. The stone age busses don't accept credit cards, even though nobody carries cash these days. Or as it were, I thought I had 17 bucks in my pocket, but I only had 16. But she didn't really seem to care too much, so I chose not to go into a discussion with her, paid my fine, took some verbal abuse with a smile and got out of there. What a bastard of an old hag she was. The next time I for some reason fail to buy a ticket, because it happens to everybody, and I don't get caught, I will go back to Aarhus Sporveje and laugh at her old wrinkly face.

Monday, March 08, 2004

Location, Location, Location.

One of the guys I live with came into the kitchen earlier and made a minor rant; apparently the guy who lives over his room had decided to take a piss over the balcony (in broad daylight) while my friend had some towels hanging to dry on his balcony. I think when real estate people say it's all about Location, Location, Location, one of the "locations" is for not living beneath a balcony-pisser.
The idiot-frequency where I live is rising with a frightening pace...

Sunday, March 07, 2004

I just figured I would round up our trip to London by scattering some reviews of the stuff we saw. So here are 3 reviews of the Fountains of Wayne concert : Independent, Indie London, and The Guardian. I think I agree most with Independent, whereas it is obvious that the person from Guardian was 90 years old, didn't like loud music and subsequently spent all night in the bar or in the loo. In any case the review is complete rubbish.
There's also a review of When Harry Met Sally which, unsurprisingly, didn't get rave reviews. But for us it worked as a nice way to spend an afternoon.

Oh, and Arsenal hammered Pompey, in what turned out to be a pretty good way to start an evening.

Friday, March 05, 2004

Cheers, Gov.

So, I'm back from London and it was a really great trip. I tried Prawn-Cocktail Flavoured Crisps and Indian food for the fist time (we ate at "Two Guys From Kabul"), bad traditional pub food, loads of different beers. I saw Soho, Camden, Bayswater, Highbury, Tower Bridge and more tubestations than I'll ever remember. I heard Mile End at on a jukebox at The Golden Lion. We saw Fountains of Wayne at the Astoria (bought the T-shirt), and When Harry Met Sally starring Luke Perry and Alyson Hannigan which was really funny. I bought the new Hunter S. Thompson and Nick Hornby books. And I bought the Franz Ferdinand cd and the Dessert Sessions 9 and 10 with Josh Homme and PJ Harvey, which should be good. I bought some cool t-shirts.
And I developed a real afinity for British daytime TV, and I realised that the more times you say Jenny Agutter, the funnier it gets.

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