Fylleslagsmål = Drunk Brawl (the not-cool kind)

Being sick for a longer period of time usually makes me cranky, as I can no longer partake in the social life I have built over the last years. Reaching a peak this afternoon, I have chosen to vent my rage on a personally heated topic that has been a concern for me lately. The rage-venting is also a good way of keeping me from headbutting a kitten out of pure blind frustration. I really don't want that, I like kittens.

The source of my fiery hatred this time around is the socially retarded nodheads that in their infinite wisdom have decided that Alcohol + Violence = Fun

Not only do the clever dicks always decide to beat the living bajeezus out of people every single time their alcohol-levels rise over zero, but they usually also take their fun sport of getting wasted and crushing skulls to events declared Alcohol-Free by the people behind it. The violent incompetents just can't seem to have any fun without getting drunk, and then proceeding to hit people, act aggressivly, scare kids, shit their pants and in other hilarious ways make an otherwise fun evening of hanging out turn into a nightmare for their victims.

Please understand me here, I have nothing against the fine breweries that is avaiable to us from shops around town. (Although I am not of legal age to be consuming them, yet. *Cough*) They more often than not lead to parties of pure awesome, sprinkled with the tiny epic moments like when, for example, the author found himself having a complete discussion with a female friend's teddy bear, or playing an unforgettable air-guitar alongside some friends to AC/DC's "Shook Me All Night Long."

It is when testosterone-addicted jerks find it neccesary to beat up some innocent random person because: (actual reasons!) "I don't like you!" or "You look funny" or the classic "He was looking at me!" Of course one cannot argue at these sharp wits and precise arguments. The worst is when the baboons performing their art of facebusting gets cheers or applauding comments from their peers. Where do people find logic in rooting for violence and excessive acts of stupidity and ignorance? OF COURSE they won't stop if they think it is acceptable! Still, the buffed up turds keep swinging, and keep getting pats on their backs from friends and lovers.

Yes, that is another concern of mine. Why do some of my opposite gender find this behavior, and the goons behaving this way attractive? In nine of ten cases they look like a bus ran over them, smell like doggy wee-wee and are about as interesting as the back of my hand. ( Presuming the back of my hand is plain, even and generally uninteresting.)
Are they attracted by the aura of alpha male-ness they emit? Or do the drunken fighters actually cover behind a facade of manliness and fist-to-face reason, while being completely functioning intelectuals with many interestin stories to tell?

My point is: Is it really neccesary for some males (and even some girls, yes I've been watching you) to fight while drunk? Cannot we all just get along, be at peace with ourselves and others, and have Hakuna Matata? It is perfectly possible, and highly recommended. Partying hard should be fun for everyone. Right?

ps: The dashing fellow portrayed in the picture on top is Olliver, a loyal companion of mine. Though quite deflated at the moment, he will rise again. He was at that moment enjoying a relaxing beer. The rascal had also stolen my hat

Statsoverhovud = Head of State = President

Today has been one of the rare occasins where my own presence has repelled me to such an extent that I have wished to be removed from my own smelly, yucky, throw-uppy body. Being sick has very few bright sides except getting your ass pampered. So I have been feeling like a smelly, yappy little rat that everyone has to care for and be of service to. I am only some years of domestication and a body-coat of fur away from being a Chihuahua. Repulsive little creatures. Please get the meaning behind my hateful words, I have nothing at all against the canine race, but if the little devil-spawns had been treated as the "dogs" they are supposed to be, and not some accessory for dumb daddy-girls around the world, I would at least show them some respect. I'll take a husky, labrador or even terrier over those things any day!

But these ramblings are not at all art of the topic that caught my (and a million other's) attention today. As most of the civilized world (and even a couple of teenagers) know, the United States of America has elected a new President. A black one, has some pointed out. To this I bow to the dust and applaud heartily. Now that Obama is in office, global warming has ended, alternative energysources will pop up like pimples on a teenage face and the world will generally be a much happier place. A world of no-echonomy-crisis-rivers and fluffy sugarcovered clouds. At least this is the impression I get from the media. The man has reached almost legend-status before even having an opportunity to begin his work. I do hope Barack will turn the tide and make USA a great example for the rest of the world, and solve all our problems, but it is important to realise that he is just one man. Yes, a man with a recognizeable amount of political power in his eager hands, but still just one man. Will the people of his country really continue to back him up if he starts making huge changes in their political ways and daily life? Right now the Force is strong in that one. He has around 70% of the people and senators and commons are with him. Still, he has a long way to go. I will be cheering for him, but I will also await results most calmly. Can he do it?

Sic Transit Gloria Mundi

Contemplating how I should commence this insanely little thing that is blogging, I suddenly find myself with colder feet than a groom that has just witnessed his beloved soon-to-be standing upright while on the toilet. The voices inside my head (we all have some, right?) starts rummaging about and flinging arguments at me like: You have already done so many interesting stuff this past year, you'll find nothing to write about NOW. Another one quietly confides: You can't write for shit, nobody is gonna read this! Then there are a couple that rambles on about how some potatoes are awesome, but I usually disregard those.

I think most people about to let their minds seep into the all-consuming beeing that is Internet are faced with some of the same thoughts: Will anybody enjoy this? Will anybody be inspired by this? Is it wise to publish pictures of my genitals here? So am I at the moment, but I have chosen to not be conserned, and let things be as things will. After all I have chosen to lead my life by the simple, yet difficult philosophy of Hakuna Matata. :) No worries.

Still, the first argument of me being done with all things exciting worries me. 08 was an awesome year containing nearly a hundred new friends, trips across the globe, diving to the bottom of an ocean and many other events that elude my mind at the moment. A question that arises is: Can 09 top this? I guess I'll have to see for myself. If I have already got any readers, thank you. I WILL entertain, confess, boast, discuss, check out and analyze as much as humanly possible in this blog.

Ps: My two strongest arguments for starting up a blog was that I want my meaning to be heard (at least by some) and since I am sick today (the messy kind, you don't wanna know. ;) ) I had to get off my ass and start typing. Words are afterall our most common and most powerful way of expression.

Pps: You will here find pictures of good things that happened to me in 08. To those of you not represented: I just couldn't find a picture good enough to show how important you are to me, so please hold no grudge.
(This was to all my boys, my intellectual soulmates at school, my family, my other friends and my cat, among others.)