| Lifewise Unwise etc...wise |
[Oct. 28th, 2005|03:10 pm] |
| [ | Animus |
| | Tired | ] |
| [ | Cantus |
| | Folque - St. Stefans vise | ] |
Workwise:
I worked as an extra in a national commercial for "Toro" dinner sauces and gravies. So in two to three weeks, you might recognize me as "the guy pretending to be eating in the background of that gravy commercial". It earned me 1000 grunker* as well. Sweet!
Lingowise:
I finally took my latest exam in Latin, and I'm currently trying to learn Japanese. Nihongo-o yomimasu. Hai.
Dreamwise:
Last night I dreamt that I jumped ontop of a bridge while holding a towel, and suddenly the wind caught me and I was flying about 1000 m high up in the sky. It was an amazing feeling. Then I realized that I was going to die once I hit ground again. That too was an amazing feeling, accepting that death was coming. Of course, it was a dream, so naturally I made it safely back down. But still... uh... oh well.
*: norwegian money; approx the value of 14,5 kg of cheese |
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| Poop! |
[Sep. 15th, 2005|01:51 am] |
| [ | Animus |
| | Crappy... heh | ] |
| [ | Cantus |
| | Gaupe - Vannapostel | ] |
Say... am I the only one who gets a hesitating feeling whenever I put on boxers that say "!Solid"? |
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| Memory overload |
[Jul. 7th, 2005|01:41 am] |
I survived the Roskilde Festival. I didn't enjoy it so much this year, since I was more likely to sit down and cry rather than to actually go to the concerts, but it did feature, among a bunch of other sweetstuffs, four projects with Mike Patton, all of which took my fancy:
Kaada/Patton
Fantômas
Patton/Rahzel
Maldoror
So it's been an eventful last week. I'm however all sad and shook up. I don't know why. But anyway, I don't feel like writing more right now. Have to sleep. Nitey! |
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| Clear signs of recuperation |
[Jun. 19th, 2005|01:48 am] |
So...
Miscalculation: There'll be no hospitalization. Not yet, anyway. I don't know what happened. Them psychophants had me phooled. Shitfags. Ergo, alas, I'm still left over to my overmedicated, whining self, licking my wounds with a poisonous toungue. Keep thinking that the key to salvation is spartan lifestyle combined with childish play. Yarr. Will have to clear out my room and flush away my little satanic henchman, or computer, as some call it. I have too many "things". I want to make tings, like cartoons or comics, but I keep failing, and fall into dark mindscapes. My bastard mentors inside me keep carving me up, and shove me into little pink sausages and feed me to horny german leatherclad demons. I gasp and cry out my need for primordial barbarism; I want to run naked and roaring into a forest of grime and explode in a fountain of blood and screams and excrement. Delivery from my cowardice. I have to scratch and tear, gore my filthy sinner-hands into my stomach, through flesh and sinew and feces and rip out my innards and cut them into little pieces of dogfood. Grab my heart and soul, and gorge on all my fears, just lay bare all the sins and filth of my life and my past. Eat it all up and laugh manically while I gargle my spleen and masturbate onto my freshly cut out anus. And at the top of my feast of metaphorical body gook (of course it's all metaphorical; what, you think I'm some kind of sicko?), then I forgive myself. Just tell my constant nerves to go buttrape themselves with at rusty razor. Only then will I have peace...
Anyway, all this scatporn cleared out, however, my life still has no filling. I'm as empty a personality as they come. One idea for provisional means to satisfy this need for "purpose", is reading, under the alibi of becoming wiser. Let it be known at this point that I've read very few books; I read very slowly. Nevertheless, I just finished reading "Good Omens" by Gaiman and Pratchett. Damn fine reading, but I felt the ending left something to be desired. A few too easy solutions in the hazy roundup. But then again, it's hard to make a perfect apocalypse, and they almost did. Now I'm trying once more for "Steppenwulf" by Hesse, seeing as I only managed to get halfways through before the library wanted it back. So, I guess for the record, my "meaning of life" is reading. Hm. Deep.
You know... I really wanted to write something nice today. |
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| No reason to be Cool |
[Jun. 5th, 2005|02:07 am] |
| [ | Animus |
| | Moronic | ] |
| [ | Cantus |
| | Esperanza - Ursa Minor (etc) | ] |
I believe I shall resign from the World Wide Online Community for quite a while. Not that I update particularly often lately; but then again, if you knew how much annoyingly lardy, whiny bitching I spare you each day by not posting, you'd probably all hug me and give me lots of dollars. Anyway, it is my firm belief that my computer is if not Satan himself, then at least one of his favourite henchmen. And I am his ever obedient slave, as he ejaculates his DOOM all over my wrinkly ass. So, in other words, I need a little time off; a little rebellion, if you like. That, and I'm being shipped off to some asylum in a few weeks or so. Medicine's not working. |
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| You what now? |
[May. 26th, 2005|10:06 pm] |
| [ | Animus |
| | Lost | ] |
| [ | Cantus |
| | Mind Over MIDI - Head Odyssey | ] |
I may have reached an all time low now; I flunked my kendo-grading. Even the only one to do so too. Now I have nothing.
I rot. |
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| A quick fix of self pity |
[May. 8th, 2005|08:52 am] |
| [ | Animus |
| | Weak | ] |
| [ | Cantus |
| | Kraftwerk - Hall of Mirrors | ] |
Edronax. Citalopram. Cipramil. Modiodal. Ritalin. Fluanxol. Valergan. Melatonin. Risperdal. Zyprexa.
My bedroom is full of medicine. Yet still, I'm not better. Psychosis, psychosomatic aggravation, anxiety. Derangements within derangements. I don't know where to look or turn. There's no relief. How I yearn for rest.
I try to sleep, but then come the nightmares. Much too real nightmares. Every night. And thanks to narcolepsy, I never wake up. I'm locked inside my own body, running for my life. Dreads. Horrors. Blunders, even.
And worst of all, I fear, is that this is life. This is as good as it gets.
I rot. |
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| None too surprising... |
[Apr. 22nd, 2005|07:24 am] |
| [ | Animus |
| | Flat | ] |
| [ | Cantus |
| | Art of Noise - Eye of Needle | ] |
 | You scored as Mushrooms. Shrooms! You're still goin for one of the most natural drugs. You'd like to visit a whole other world, and see things you've never seen before. Fucking trippy.
Mushrooms | | 88% | Marijuana | | 69% | Cocaine | | 56% | Ecstacy | | 50% | Inhalents | | 50% | Alcohol | | 50% | None! | | 44% | </td>
What's your ideal drug?
created with QuizFarm.com |
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| Who needs a body? |
[Apr. 16th, 2005|10:54 pm] |
| [ | Animus |
| | Fubar | ] |
| [ | Cantus |
| | Esperanza - Cyber Jungle 2 | ] |
My body's rebelling lately. I'm freezing and shaking and sweating cold, yet I'm not "ill". I can't relax and constantly feel like blacking out and exploding into a pool of salty tears. It may well be my new medicine. It's a heavy anti-psychotic drug. I just finished with my amphetamine-like drug (ritalin) because, well, guess what; it made me sleepy. How can that be? Stupid medicine. Well, fuck me for bitching about my medicine.
I dreamt that I was my own father last night. There were some massive conspirations about, entailing, amongst others, a band of arab nomads who pretended to kill me and my son (me) on camera, in order to save us from the mother. She'd called my son "Monrose", something that made me very annoyed. I've slept a lot lately. Of the last 36 hours, somewhere close to 30 of them have been spent in Noddyland. Still, I'm as sleepy now as I was before. It's very hard for me to stay awake on a regular basis, but now I have no control anymore. Fell asleep during class, at my friends place, at dinnertable, at kendo and almost even while driving my motorbike. This is not very good.
Argh, by body's fucking me up again. Have to sleep.
Nana. |
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| As inspired by Britt, Matt and Kellie |
[Apr. 4th, 2005|05:45 am] |
| [ | Cantus |
| | Tom Lehrer - Wernher von Braun | ] |
#1:
Describe yourself using one band and song titles from that band | Created by naw5689 and taken 24107 times on bzoink! | | Choose a band/artist and answer only in song TITLES by that band: | Tom Lehrer | | Are you male or female: | "That's Mathematics" | | Describe yourself: | "Smut" | | How do some people feel about you: | "Poisoning pigeons in the park" | | How do you feel about yourself: | "Pollution" | | Describe your ex girlfriend/boyfriend: | "Who's next?" | | Describe your current girlfriend/boyfriend: | "When you are old and gray" | | Describe where you want to be: | "In old Mexico" | | Describe what you want to be: | "The old dope peddler" | | Describe how you live: | "The masochism tango" | | Describe how you love: | "The wiener schnitzel waltz" | | Share a few words of wisdom | "We will all go together when we go" | Create a Survey | Search Surveys | Go to bzoink! |
#2:
1. Post the names of 20 of your favorite musicians.
2. See who can guess which is your favorite song by each.
3. Once someone guesses right, bold that row and include the song.
01: JS Bach
02: Ulver
03: Kraftwerk
04: Bogus Blimp
05: Tool
06: Tomahawk
07: Morphine
08: Portishead
09: Bent
10: Amon Tobin
11: Tsuneo Imahori
12: Einstürzende Neubauten
13: DJ Shadow
14: Kid Loco
15: Brian Eno
16: King Crimson
17: Tipsy - Grossenhosen (busted by Åsmund)
18: Esperanza
19: Pink Floyd
20: Jan Johansson |
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| Mmm, bruises... |
[Mar. 7th, 2005|03:22 am] |
| [ | Animus |
| | Battered | ] |
| [ | Cantus |
| | Photek - 124 | ] |
Ah, and so I passed kendo grading. I now hold the grade of "4th kyu". I have no idea what that entails, but it sounds... nice? I also participated in the local championship. I have never even been sparring in kendo before, and there I was, having my debut in a championship. With armour and all. It was great; I didn't score any points, and I was basically downright slaughtered, but it was still great. I lasted a whole three minute round and lost by only one point in one of the matches, so I think impressed nevertheless, since nobody expected me to do anything else than to roll over and die. I think that, in time, this is something in which I might excel. I like the thought of that.
I now take the opportunity to quote the norwegian dubbing of "Asterix in Britain"; one of my absolute favourite cartoons
- "La oss dø med sverd i hånden"
- "For en ridderlig god idé!" |
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| O avuncule; quid feci? |
[Mar. 3rd, 2005|02:50 pm] |
| [ | Animus |
| | Lame | ] |
| [ | Cantus |
| | Tanita Tikaram - Twist in my Sobriety | ] |
I just had an exam in Latin; got an A! Yay! And yesterday they gave us a home assignment as well. I think I'll answer it as a comic about the everyday hero Caius Primus or something like that. Might be fun.
And if anyone wishes; please feel free add khem@online.no to your msn messenger. |
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| Omnipotence! Yeah! |
[Mar. 1st, 2005|07:12 pm] |
| [ | Animus |
| | Ambitious | ] |
| [ | Cantus |
| | Amon Tobin - Yasawas | ] |
So... Kendo grading in less than a week. I've never been to a martial arts grading before. I only have experience from boxing, where there's no such thing as grading involved. It's all about bag-punching, face-bashing and rope-skipping all from the start. Haven't done that in aeons though. Hm. I kinda miss it.
I always juggle zillions of projects, but I rarely complete any of them. I've therefore agreed with myself to prioritize getting my server and webpages up and running, in order to use them as a base for future experiments. I also promised to host some of Maria's photos and movie projects, so I cant postpone it any longer. I've got the domain and the server, and thanks to the good help of my room-mate Tore, I also got a nameserver. But there's still a bit of work to do in getting the servers online. And the fact that I have no clue whatsoever on how to do that, well, it doesn't actually help. I don't want to exploit poor Tore either. He's working very hard and he just had a bad run-in with the womankind. He looks burnt-out, and that worries me enough already. So if anyone's got a copy of "the rookies comprehensive guide to apache http server mastery", I'd be you slave for a week if I could borrow it.
Just for a sense of abundance, here is a short list of other projects:
* Arranged, obscene footage/documentary of myself; "the naked truth about ole"(?)
* AMV-work for Matt at Slacker Studios; currently working on Noir (anime) to music by Shellyz Raven
* Comic book in latin
* Various "art" collections/themes
* Swordsmanship; "theory, practice and etiquette for the modern swordmaster" (Hahaha, yes, corny, I know)
* Short stories
* Plastaline film
* Animation; both by hand and in Flash.
* Fight evil, then bring DOOM
There's plenty more, but who cares? Anyway, if anyone has ideas or suggesteions, please don't hesitate to unravel. |
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| (no subject) |
[Feb. 11th, 2005|01:08 am] |
| [ | Animus |
| | broken down | ] |
| [ | Cantus |
| | Tipsy - Suez Motel | ] |
Brain scan and blood samples turned out normal. So at least I don't have MS. Doctor's sending me to yet another specialist (a neurologist this time), which makes a total of 5. Since the Modiodal® medicine didn't work, I am to try amphetamine of some kind this time. Exciting!
Started training again. Pumping iron and stuff. Also joined Bergen Kendo Society; even got my own shinai (bamboo sword). I watched the intermediates fight yesterday. It looks so awesome! I can hardly contain myself while waiting to get into that armour, ready to wack and get wacked. Sure, it will leave me constantly bruized, but I'll be able to spank up anyone who points that out. |
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| Fridge Poetry |
[Feb. 6th, 2005|10:38 am] |
| [ | Animus |
| | Burnt-out | ] |
| [ | Cantus |
| | Ultrashow - Diana Rigg | ] |
In our appartment, we have instances of so called "fridge poetry"; tiny magnetic bricks, each containing a word, toghether with which you can add other bricks with other words on them, in order to form sentences, or "poetry". Even though it's an annoying waste of time, every now and then I end up with something interesting. All the examples below currently decorate our refrigerator:
#1
I love the smell of hairy nurse-holes in the morning
#2
My cold hand shivered
deep within her moist young sister
#3
Good God run away
all this poetry is gay
#4
Yes
I kiss men
but I never swallow
#5
Pink Lullaby
Girl, cry as I sting
your sweet virgin ring
while I luciously sing
of how boys are my thing
#6
The ugly girls
drink my fat old sex
#7
You
are
one
sad
country |
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grossenhosen's journal