Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Cliffhanger- The Cliff Clavin Corner
Dentists have recommended that a toothbrush be kept at least six feet away from a toilet to avoid airborne particles resulting from the flush. In layman terms this means that one should never keep their toothbrush in the bathroom, because flying pieces of poo will stick to it and who wants to brush their teeth with poo? On a similar topic; Turtles can breathe through their butts. It sure feels like some people do the same...sigh
Peace from the Cliffmeister
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
A chicken I relate with
I would also like to add before I start counting sheep that I am very much enjoying the world's dullest blog. I don't know whether it's because I am a dull person myself or because I have a sick sense of humour. http://www.wibsite.com/wiblog/dull/ I think this person is a genius...
Lege atque lacrima!
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
A new addition: The Cliff Clavin Corner
I have decided to add a little novelty to my blog, I call it, drumroll please... The Cliff Clavin Corner. It's contents will be absolutely useless information, as this blog didn't have enough of that already... For those of you unfamiliar with Cliff Clavin, he is the happy, yet ackward postman who frequented the Boston joint Cheers in the eighties and early nineties. Cliff lives with his mum, who incidentally is also Bunny, Trey's mum in Sex and the City. A busy mommie that one ay? Cliff, who has always been a favourite of mine, has what I call Clavin knowledge, i.e. he knows absolutely everything about things that don't matter at all. Cliff is played by John Ratzenberger, a multi-talented man who has also played Hamm the piggy bank in Toy Story, has a red belt in karate and owns a conservation-conscious packaging company. A good man this mr. Ratzenberger! So, now I have provided a whole bunch of useless information for the first ever Cliff Clavin Corner. Now only for the icing on the cake: when facing danger, the octopus can wrap six of its legs around its head to disguise itself as a fallen coconut shell and escape by walking backwards on the other two legs.Credo Elvem ipsum etiam vivere
Monday, February 20, 2006
Did we buy Tesco?
I have to say that this viking takeover is imminent, or perhaps it has already happened..I went to the lovely Tesco Metro today in order to buy ingredients for a new curry experiment, which was an absolute success... fry chicken with salt and mild curry powder. Add cream and mango chutney. Boil rice. Eat and enjoy... That was a slight detour, so now back to the story. I bought Tilda Basmati rice at Tesco. I start reading the instructions, because although I am a pretty decent cook, boiling rice always puzzles me somewhat. Aow shite, that was another detour. I swear it is true, I am one of those intolerable people who destroy good stories...an example: Friend: "Did you know what happened to Anna? She was at home, just reading a book and three guys broke into her house and beat the living crap out of her". Me: "Noooo, really? Which book was she reading?"... So, again, back to the story. I am reading the instructions and they just were so, well understandable. I rub my eyes in surprise and yes, they are in Icelandic! It said on the packet "Made in Great Britain", well in Icelandic of course. So my question is, have we bought Tesco or Tilda or have we perhaps gone and bought Britain itself this time around? Ha ha ha, the British thought they had kicked us out for good in 1066, but no my friends. We seem to be back, but this time we're not killing some Celtic dudes with broad swords and burning Christian churches, no no no. This time we're back with with modern viking weapons, called Nasdaq and FTSE.
Lobster and Fame and then we ride to Asgard!!!
Sunday, February 19, 2006
Af ruslastuðlum
Stundum getur maður ekki orða bundist og þá bloggar maður á íslensku. Ég hef miklar áhyggjur af ruslastuðli Tjallans. Hvernig gat þessi þjóð verið alheimsherra á sínum tíma? Þetta virðist vera fólk sem er hreinlætisfatlað. Eiginlega er mér fyrirmunað að skilja að breska þjóðin skuli ekki löngu vera útdauð úr bakteríum af eigin heimilum. Já, ég hreinlega lýsi eftir hreinlegum Tjalla...fundarlaunin eru vegleg, Ajaxbrúsi og eldhúsrúllur! Já, kallið mig þröngsýna en ekóli og salmónella eru ekki þau örlög sem ég hef óskað mér. Guði sé lof fyrir Grikkina, þeir eru þrifalegir og dásamlegir sambýlingar...mörg hjörtu og rokkstig til þeirra! Lengi lifi Sjöfn sápugerð!
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
My bloody Valentine
So, it's Valentine's Day...again. It is a day the English seem to take very seriously, red is the colour in every shop, hearts pink and red everywhere, and chocolates, oh, loads of chocolates. To me this day, being without a significant other, symbolizes failed relationships and the evil and tasteless men who I am rid of, praise Jesus! So, the stores won't get any money out of me today...erm... apart from the lovely bottle of Bourgogne that I purchased since nobody sent me a card, a box of chocolates, let alone a bottle of spirits. And yes, it's RED wine, so there you go.
Instead of falling into a deep pit of depression, I have decided to down that bottle, listen to cheerful music like The Sex Pistols' Pretty Vacant and contemplate on bad relationships. My mind e.g. wanders to ms Glenn Close in Rabbit in the Pot Day. It's really good being single when you think of relationships like that. The film Enough with JoLo and that super cute psycho guy also comes to mind, hmmm as well as The Burning Bed, Sleeping with the Enemy, need I continue? If you are thinking what about Sleepless in Seattle and The Notebook, then I reply: Shush!
Bottomline, Valentine's Day is evil and even dangerous. If you are not convinced and need further evidence... then check out the movie Valentine...if you are a prom-queen and refuse to dance with the ugly nerdy guy in junior high, he will return some years later, hunky as hell, also psycho as hell, with a nose-bleed problem, wearing a Valentine's mask and he will drown your ass in a jacuzzi; just ask Denise Richards, she'll verify.
Happy V-day y'all
Sunday, February 12, 2006
Time travellers of the world unite and take over
Tonight I felt like I had mastered the art of time travelling. Yes, it is true...well almost true. While walking home from the Castle Tavern (which has been invaded and conquered by L L Bean and bright paint, yuck) I had the strangest feeling of deja vu. It was like stepping back in time and place, say around 14 years to downtown Reykjavík. All the pubs here close at 1 am, abysmal but real, and all the alcohol infused youngsters marched or actually stumbled out of the diverse (only kidding) dives. It reminded me of the Reykjavík of my youth before the opening hours were extended to I'll keep this joint open until all the pubsters have passed out. When everything closed at 3 am, we underage Ice-drunks would crawl down to the city centre and meet all the other drunkards. It was a blast and the people you hadn't already met in your club, would emerge from the 5 other "restaurants" in town. We would then sit on fences and sing, scream and drink some more until the break of dawn. That Reykjavík has unfortunately died. Now the clubs, pubs and what have you not's are innumerable and no way in hell to actually to meet someone you actually know in the pub of your choice. The point of the story is that St Andrews really is a little shithole, truly an adorable one but still a shithole, that brings me back in time by the young soon to be alcoholics sitting on fences, singing, screaming and drinking some more. The difference is that they scream in English and only keep this behaviour up between the hours of 1.05 am till 2.00 instead of rejoicing intoxicated the coming of the first light of day. Ahhhh, I miss the good old days-- but I am also quite glad that they have gone into the oblivion of time passed because honestly, sitting on a fence for hours in the middle of the night in the North Atlantic really has a nasty cooling effect on one's bottom half...
Hic!
Hic!
Sunday, February 05, 2006
Who am I?
Well guys, according to this quiz my alter Disney ego is the little mermaid Ariel. Whoopee! I have always liked her, she has red hair like me, likes the ocean like me and she's Nordic as in created by the Danish guy with the big nose, a certain Mr. Hans Christian Andersen; actually I don't mean that I was also created by him...help mommie... rather that he is Nordic like me...and here's the discription:"You scored as Ariel.
Your alter ego is Ariel, the little mermaid! You are a dreamer, and you often want what you can't have. You can be rebellious and sometimes disobey your parents to get what you want." So there we have it; the real reason why I don't like eating fish! I am like Ariel and fish are my friends, and it's mean and rude to eat your friends. So those of you who bug me for being a picky eater...I wouldn't invite you to dinner and then announce that the main course is your long-time friend so and so! I believe this whole thing has now been settled once and for all, no more bugging me about not eating fish thank you all very much. If you want to learn more about your alter egos, click here http://quizfarm.com/test.php?q_id=3049. I seriously hope that none of you turn out to be Cruella De Ville and if so...stay away from my pets!
Peace
Neds vs Eurovision
So, the past midnight scene in St Andrews might be a bit sad with Neds strolling past my house singing at the top of their lungs: I’m a Wanker! And how right they are… Neds and wankers just seem to fit perfectly together, like two sides of the same coin to be quite honest. Actually, come to think of it, I should perhaps not be so quick to judge these poor little Neds and their barely dressed little female friends. I mean, hell, I come from the land of the ice and snow as Led Zeppelin sang so famously all these years ago and erm…the Icelandic Eurovision scene is well, a tad bit wacky (I want to point it out straight away that the Microsoft Word type/write-correctly-gadget didn’t recognize the word “wanker” and wanted to change wankers to winkers…but didn’t put any objection to the word Eurovision… a conspiracy of the literate? Yes, I would abso-bloody-lutely say so!). Of course, we haven’t reached Ned’s standard (wherever the one and only Ned might be…), but the latest horrific scandal of my nation’s almost 20 year old Eurovision-participation history is that one of the songs in the pre-contest has accidentally leaked out on the internet. Oh, the shame! I don’t think a proud nation such as mine can ever deal with the repercussions of this horrible thing. Even one of the other songwriters has filed a lawsuit! Surely an incident like this would only happen on the mainland, the habitat of the Euro-corrupt bastards. Anyway, the translated lyrics of the infamous songs go something like:Hey you disgustingly cool, I am talking to you…born in Reykjavik, no out of town freak…I know I’ll win the fucking final… Congrats Iceland that I was born here, I’m Silvía Nótt and all you are rooting for me! Eurovision nation will have a seizure when I arrive…my song is disgustingly cool, not at 90s revulsion, it is tough o.k. is not gay…I am here to stay. The other bitches in the competition have pimples on their faces…
And so it goes. Actually I have to add that this is all naturally so much cooler in the Icelandic non-translated version, yes, because it rhymes in that one…
I honestly believe this song, Eurovision Nation, could win, I just hope they won’t translate the lyrics which are sort of offensive towards the rest of Europe. Now all we have to do is add these stupid tribal drums that seem to hit the “right” spot among the other so-called Eurovision nations. Oh well, after the atrocity of last year’s Eurovision in that ungrateful shithole they call Kiev…See what premature democracy has done to these people dammitt? Not letting that gorgeous Icelandic song into the final…Shame on you Eastern Europe! Communism was too good for you! Ok, I think I’m going a teensy weensy overboard here…Anyway, for the next Eurovision, incidentally hosted in the interestingly and unmistakenly roofless houses on that Greek hill…VOTE ICELAND!! P.s. To listen to the glorious masterpiece press this... http://www.keithm.utvinternet.ie/audios/Silvia.mp3
Greetos cheetos
