Monday, February 28, 2011


I really, really love being from a country with a language that most people don't understand.
Holidays are great, because we can go around and talk out loud about people looking good/bad/being weird/awesome. It's awesome beyond imagination.
- At least until we get the stink eye. And even then it has potential for outrageous fun.

Oh... You didn't like my ginger joke?
My best friend and her family moved to California a couple of years ago, and I, of course, had to go visit her. A couple of times...

Anywho. One of the times we were shopping in some huge supermarket-thingy, CostCo or whatnot, and at the check-out counter sits this lady with really, really big and very fake boobs. If she had worn a sweater, it would've looked like she had two big balloons tied below her neck. On top of that she had an ass-ugly manicure.

Well... In Danish we have incorporated quite a few English term, especially young people. So my friend and I notice her boobloons and talk veeery discreetly about them, when my friend decides to let her dad know. (You know, he probably hadn't noticed them. Being a man and all...)

So, really loudly, my friend goes "FAR! CHECK OUT HENDES BOOBS!!!!!!!" Her father then makes the wrong decision of not acknowledging this elegant statement at all, so my lovely friend repeats, for this is a most important matter: "CHECK LIGE OUT HENDES BOOBS!!!!"
About this time I'm fighting for air, and barely holding myself upright, and her dad is focusing veeery hard on paying for the groceries and not making eyecontact with anyone, and the cashier is sending serious evil eyes at my friend.
In her sweet, innocent mind my friend wonders a bit why

1) The lady is sending us those evil stares. She obviously doesn't understand what we're saying - we're speaking Danish, and she's American. So... What's going on?
2) Her dad doesn't react properly to her tidbit of information, so she keeps up the statements. Come on, at some point he has to get it, right?

We make it through the line without getting murdered (I guess it was somewhere in her contract not to kill the costumers), and about the time we're out on the parking lot I've filled my lungs with just enough air to - through short, barely comprehensible sentences - tell her why I was gasping for air, and why her father decided not to check out our clever discovery.

Let's just say she was slightly embarrased.
And that we still laugh about it today.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

An Award? But Isn't That For People Who Like To Dress Up In Overly Expensive Clothing?

(Which I don't mind. I just need somebody to pay for the party. Any volunteers?)

Incredibleness happened. Again. I guess.
Maybe I should stop drinking so much, or perhaps I should keep up the good work since I get so many fun stories out of it.
This was not alcohol induced. Or actually just may have been, just not directly.

What happened was I got an award. For my blog. Who would've guessed?
Wait, don't answer that!
I got it from Kage Mrs. Rollins, whose blog you should go check out, even if you just came by my blog looking for pictures of more or less naked people.

-You know you're jealous!

After some research, I found out that the lovely piece of bling actually means I have to do stuff. I'm reminded, just a teeny tiny bit, of my childhood with chainletters and stuff. With I never got much out of. Well, this time - I'm on top of things! Mwahahahahahahaha.
I haven't been in the whole blogging-universe-thingy-licious-ish-thing for too long, so I'm only able to give you five new, or not new, blogs to stalk. Which you should. Because they're awesome.

Hyperbole and a Half (This will for sure have you rolling on the floor laughing at least a couple of times.)

The Gathering Storm (My good friend Michael. He likes to diss Twilight.)

Sugar Free Thoughts (I don't think there's any artificial sweetener either.)

The Didactic Pirate (Ninjas are awesome, but pirates definitely are too!)

Sex, Sequins + Sociopaths (The mighty blog/bloggess from where I got this award in the first place. At first I was thinking "Oh... I probably can't send it back," but then I figured that my blog = my rules, and that I've already bent them today, so why not just continue? Seems to work out fine for me.) 


You only got five blogs, but I won't cheat you for the 7 random things about me. Which you probably don't know. Warning: Sacriledge coming up.

1. I'm going to be the first female pope. That's right bitches beloved subjects, you'll all bow down to me some day. And give me money for my houses and clothes and whateverthehell I want. Willingly! Because that will ensure your road to Paradise. I'll be Charlotte I, and all future female popes (popettes?) will have to name themselves after me. Then I'll start taking ninja courses and be even more awesome.

2. I'm not actually religious even though I'm baptized (as a Protestant). When I was preparing to be confirmed, however, I figured out that this religion-thing wasn't really my thing. This will not be an obstacle on my road to pope/popessdom.

3. I like to read, like a good little geek. A small, annoying detail is, that once it's schoolwork it suddenly becomes at lot less interesting. It really doesn't matter what it is. Even NCIS became slightly less interesting when I discovered an excuse way to watch it for an exam.

4. I'm a teensy, weensy bit competetive. Just sometimes. *cough*... I don't know how I got both that and the "extreme laziness"-gene. Oh, and I love doing sports. How did this happen? It's like a trainwreck sometimes.

5. I'm addicted to a bunch of tv-series. It's actually really, really embarrasing. It's my guilty pleasure, and I can't seem to get enough. They also make me turn into a slightly judging gossip. There are even a couple of reality shows I'm addicted to. Megavideo is my friend. When they don't do their bitchy "infringement" thing. I might create a popely decree against it, once I've taken residence and so forth.

6. 2,4-dinitrophenylhydrazin. 'Nuff said.

7. Every now and then I try to find stuff by "ctrl+f" or thinking/saying "ACCIO [insert wished item]!" I just tried it on sushi, and was sorely dissapointed by the outcome. The day it actually does work I might faint.

I thought about writing some boring info, like "English is not my first language, but my second. Surprise!?" But I figured you already guessed that one.
I'm sorry it took me a while, but my teachers are (between blablablas) throwing a shitload of papers and essays my way.
Have fun!

Sunday, February 13, 2011

The Story About The Pagan Muffin-thief. Part 2.

It was new moon that very night, so it was pitch black, and the wind made the cool air freezing, chilling them to their bones. It was close to midnight, and the only sound aside the wind in the trees, was the clattering teeth of the three board-members.
The Joninanator and The Chrisoman, however, did not feel the cold of the night, for they had powers beyond those of humans. The Joninanator shot the board members a condescending look, and moved towards the heavy door ahead. It was unlocked, so the five people hurried in, spearheaded by The Joninanator. The room they entered was dark, but they followed the sound of muffled voices and reached a room dimly lit by candles. Two people were encircled by people in cowls. The candles flickered, and cast long shadows in the room. The five intruders discreetly watched and were not seen by the coven doing their ritual. They stood and watched in stunned silence, minutes or hours had passed, when the woman in the middle ended the ritual: “…we bid you hail and farewell. Hail and farewell.” 

They hurried off, for they dared not get caught lurking on these sinister and strange people. The three board members were stunned, but The Joninanator and The Chrisoman both bore smug looks on their faces as they rushed out into the night again.
The next day, the Pagan Muffin-thief was sitting innocently in Indiscreet Math when the headmaster walked in. He had a grave, serious look on his face, and told the class that he had an announcement to make. He looked directly at the Pagan Muffin-thief and declared that he was ashamed “to have such lying filth” at his school, and that “his kind” were not accepted. Heads turned, and the Pagan Muffin-thief felt his face turning five shades of red. But this was not the end. The headmaster proceeded to insist, that he would show the proof, and pulled out a video of the events of the ritual. When the video was over, the headmaster turned back to the Pagan Muffin-thief, and in what seemed to be slowmotion said “You. Are. Expelled.” The Pagan Muffin-thief then disappeared. Nobody saw how he did it, and all kinds of stories are being told about the event. Some say that he ran out of the door, faster than the wind, others that he melted into the shadows under his desk, and then there’s the story where he turned into a hawk, knocked over the headmaster, and flew out through a window while all the telephones in the room suddenly played Lady GaGa songs.

Hello, hello baby, you called I can't hear a thing. Pagan Muffin-thief left, so them phones are ringing...

Nobody knows exactly when it all happened. Some say that it was decades ago and that the Pagan Muffin-thief simply has the power of controlling all Lady GaGa songs – past, present and future releases – and some say that it was only last week.
Fact remains, that every now and then you can sense a presence in the shadows near a stand bearing muffins. It is the Pagan Muffin-thief, who has come to take your muffin. He will have his revenge one day, over The Joninanator and The Chrisoman, for his strength lies in the muffins he steals and consumes, which are great in numbers. The happy, delicious triple-chocolate muffin faced its end, but it was not sad.
For it is said, that all muffins eaten by the Pagan Muffin-thief goes on to live happily ever after in Elysium.  

At least that's what they think they saw...

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Beware, oh muffins of the Earth! (AKA The Story About The Pagan Muffin-thief. Part 1.)

I began writing this story just for the fun of it, inspired by one of my friends and a dream he had about getting kicked out of school for being pagan (which he isn't anyways...) It kinda took off, so I decided to break it into two, so it wouldn't get too overwhelming. The combination of his fantasy and mine, makes one weird story. Here we go...

Once upon a time there was a muffin. It was a happy, delicious triple-chocolate muffin, partially wrapped in elegant floral paper. It was lying in a basket with its extended family, enjoying the lights shining down from above, when suddenly a big hand grabbed it.
It was the hand of the Pagan Muffin-thief. The Pagan Muffin-thief moved like a whisper through the shadows, and was almost impossible to spot with the naked eye.
The Pagan Muffin-thief had haunted technological universities since he was young. Once, the Pagan Muffin-thief was enrolled in one of these universities as a happy, clever student. Every now and then he was known to yell odd things such as "CLEAVER TO FACE!" or "SUSHI! NOW!" or state things in a mathematical language that only few was able to understand. Despite these strange outbursts, he was liked by most. However, he had two archenemies: The Joninanator and her apprentice The Chrisoman.

The Joninanator - looking like a wrestler, but rocking a costume like Catwoman.

The Chrisoman - rockin' the pink. Only real men can wear pink... Right??

The Joninanator and The Chrisoman were plotting against the Pagan Muffin-thief, for they knew a secret. The Pagan Muffin-thief practiced a religion strictly banned by the university. So they made up a plan: To expose the Pagan Muffin-thief.
The Joninanator had spies in all places, and had by blackmail and threats gained the knowledge of time and place for the Pagan Muffin-thief's next ritual. She brought her faithful Chrisoman, and had also convinced some members of the board of the university to join them, for she would need witnesses to his evil deeds.

To be continued...

Friday, February 11, 2011

Adventures in Gypsyland. Part 2.

There are a bunch of things that I have to do before I die. Going to Australia and trying poledancing are currently pretty high on my imaginary list, and in Gypsyland I got a few others crossed off.
Even a couple I didn't know that were there - eating dried kiwi, for example. I guess it's good I don't know where to buy that where I live, because I was going through the ones I bought at an alarming rate while I had them.
Sugar is good, no?
Gimme that, bitch.

Anywho, on our last night in Barca some of the guys where talking about going to a stripclub, and being the curious person that I am, I wanted to join them. So I did, and a couple of the girls did too.
I'm not into girls at all, but I am/was intrigued. Stripclubs are pretty much clouded in a veil of mystery to girls like me. And probably also a bunch of girls not like me. So I was pretty excited to rip that damn veil o'mystery from those clubs.
Can you say anticlimax?
I must have seen too many Hollywoodproductions, because I expected a bunch of beautiful women, except their boobs would be way too big. And also very fake.

My expectation of a stripclub...
...and what I actually saw.

Well, their boobs were definitely not fake. They were... well... hanging. And their bodies weren't fit. One of them was even kinda fat. Ew.
I thought strippers were doing awesome tricks on the poles. Spinning, climbing... Dunno. Stuff! But they didn't.
Not many balloon-boobs or sexy mamas in there. I'm sorry I have such a perfectionist mind, but I want to see sexy strippers doing cool stunts! Is that so much to ask for?

Still, it was a really funny experience. The men in there was staring at us like they were thinking "why are they wearing clothes? So wrong. Women with clothes on are weird." Which was pretty funny.
Also I don't think those strippers were really strippers. They were probably just prostitutes, judging from the way they acted off-stage and from what some of the guys told me.
Oh well. Stripclubs - I'm not done with you yet. I'll be back!
- But not at that particular stripclub.

Quest: Go to Hollywood, get drunk, find cool stripclub, get drunker.