Wednesday, June 29, 2005

Happy Birthday

My birthday is coming up. July 25. I'm not excited about it. No matter how old you get, they treat you like a kid. You are 50 years old, you still have to blow out the candles. There is always one candle that stays lit. Then the rest of the group has to help out, because you could not possible do it on your own. Yeah, you managed to blow out 15 candles within 3 seconds and you almost pass out and land your face in the cake.
The rest of the group has to help out. Among that group is a person know as, the spitter. You do not want people like that near a candle lit cake. Specially if it's cake you are going to eat.
Later on you have to open the presents, otherwise you are rude. I hate the pressure when opening presents. Everyone is watching you. It's like, will he make it or not. First you have to struggle to open the present, which was wrapped 10 times with duct tape. Thank you uncle Joe, you are a real handyman. When you finally open it up, you have to pretend to like the gift. Always shit. Like sandal's. Sandal's are waste. It's like, where the fuck is the other half of the shoe. It's only half of a shoe. Go back to the store and ask for the other half. You've been ripped off.
Every year you get a bottle of perfume from someone. " I love you but you smell like shit. That's why I bought you this bottle of perfume". "Thanks Tiffany, THANKS".
There is always people you don't know at your birthday party. How the hell did he get here? People you don't like and don't know.
At the end of the day you have to say thank you to all the people you did not invite. You have to thank them for coming to a party you did not want to be a part of in the first place.

Monday, June 27, 2005


I have a great understanding with women. I don't get them and they don't get me. They don't give me what I want and I don't get what I want. If a women likes you, she gives you tiny subtle hints. It could be something like, if she bends down to tie her shoe lace and at the same time she brushes against the leg with her left hand in a 23 degree angle while looking not directly at you. These are clues not even the best code decipher working for the pentagon could crack.
I ask people for advice, they tell me to just be myself. Wow, that is ground breaking. And here I'm trying to be Superman, McGyver, Cool Dude. Side note: Cool Dude is a character I made up myself. His cool.
I try to (s)talk to women. When I talk to a woman I'm attracted to, I don't know what to say. I can't be myself. Inside my head there is a voice encouraging me to say stuff. "Dude, say something. Say something funny". I do, then I find out it was not a good idea. "Dude, you shouldn't have said anything". Damn you voice.
When I talk to women I'm not attracted to, I can be myself. I'm relaxed. I can be funny. I can talk with them. I wish I could do that with the one I'm attracted to. I think I know why that is. When talking to the ones I'm not attracted to, I know that nothing is going to happen. On a sub conscious level, I don't give a damn if they like me or not. Thus, I can be myself.


Everyone wants to be smart. Or they want people to think that they are smart. I'm smart. That's what I'm told. Everybody I know tells me I'm smart. Well, they add another word after the word smart. Like mouth or something. Smart mouth, that's the one. Hey, at least there is something smart about me, right? I celebrate that every Friday. Two beers, because after that I pass out due to my smart mouth.
On a side note. This is the first time the spel checker said, "No Errors Found". Yet another reason to celebrate.

Saturday, June 25, 2005


I finally did it. I made a pathetic video of a short stand up routine. I'm now a part of the stand up contest. The contest is to write a funny script or to make a short video of stand up routine. The funniest contributor wins. The winner gets to perform at the annual stand up festival in Oslo, august 22.
Fingers crossed.

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

Help! My Phone is possessed

I got to get myself a new cell phone. The speaker is broken. When talking on the phone with someone, it sounds like I'm talking with Satan. That's scary. Maybe Lucifer is really trying to contact me. And to think of all those nights spent in the woods.
I'm never really sure what exactly the other person is saying. I have to go "excuse me" all the time. After 11 "excuse me's" they tend to get pissed and hang up. When I meet them, they ask me what the fuck is wrong with me. I ask them, "Is that a vain in your forehead, or are you just really pissed to see me"? I tell them the truth as I want to see it. The phone is possessed, I say. At nights, it wakes me up and says all kinds of mean things. Like, "Toy with me", "I want to talk right now".
Although, it gets a totally different meaning when said by a woman.
It's Siemens, what else can you expect.

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Comedy Festival

Every year, Stand Up Norway arranges a stand up festival in Oslo. All the pros are gonna be there. What's so special about this year is, they have contest. The contest is to write the funniest jokes, scripts etc. The winner gets to perform at the festival. This could be a huge opportunity for me. Yet there is a part of me that hopes I don't win.
I have never performed comedy on a stage, ever. If I win, which I doubt, I guess I just have to suck it up and do what I really wanna do.

I have been advised to write every day. To write down absolutely every thing. I have to be honest, I haven't done that. I try to come up with excuses for not to write. Like, did I leave the toilet seat up. Or, did I wash my hands today. Hey is that a spider. Let's see how long it will survive in this jar. This will be my new project for the next 3 days. I will focus on the jar and spider only. This could maybe cure cancer.
By now I have run out of excuses. So I have compiled a list of excuses. Every day I spend 30 minutes to write a new list of excuses. Some of them are:

Visit relatives 4 times a week. Hang out at the DMV. Make new friends at the DMV. Investigate different types of smells. Speaking of smells. Don't hang out with a guy named Curly at the DMV.
Today I parked my ass and wrote for almost an hour. Jokes that is. My goal is to write at least 15- jokes everyday. Or write as much as possible for an hour.

Sunday, June 05, 2005

Vegas baby

I love to travel. I would really like to visit Vegas one day. The entertainment capital of the world. If I go to Vegas, it is for one reason. To see Copperfield live. I have never seen him live. I have never seen a stage performance live. I told a friend of mine about it because she has been in the US. All she gave me was warnings. Do not travel alone and such. If I do I'm not going to enjoy the trip. I will constantly be looking over my shoulder. She said health insurance isn't free in the US, unlike in Norway. And if you have ever been in Norway on purpose, you will notice that it's a totally different country. I was fine before I asked her, but now she has me really freaked out. I could always go with my friends, but it's not going to happen. They will never go. They would rather go on a fishing trip. Catch and releasing fish isn't fun anymore. Maybe because I'm not 10. I have passed the phase where poking fish was fun. Vegas, fishing. The difference in the entertainment value is indescribable. I really want to go though, despite my friends warning. Although I have picked up some advice from an intern in NY. When walking down the streets, look crazy. Make it look like you are about to snap any minute. The crazy people never turn on each other.

Thursday, June 02, 2005

Catch and release

The fishers on TV never keep the fish. They measure it, weigh it, and then let it go. Isn't the whole point of fishing to provide food if you don't have the money to buy it?
Now if those people bought a gold fish as a pet. Would they keep it? Or would they release it back into the wild? On the table would probably be a fish bowl with water and the decoration, but no fish.
If these people were to buy a hooker. They would bring her home. Place her on a scale to weigh her, then measure her. Then let her back onto the streets.
If the navy had a catch and release program for terrorists, it might look something like this:

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Wednesday, June 01, 2005


Everyday I have to struggle to pick out little outfits for myself. I try to look my best. Let's just say, dog shit doesn't become candy when wrapped in silk paper.
Sometimes I try to be clever and combine different type of clothing. Even that's not good enough for the fashion police. I get remarks like, that doesn't look good on you, your head is too big for that shirt, that's what you are wearing? Mother could be very cruel.
The other day, a friend of mine asked me when am I going to cut my hair. That's what she said. Cut my hair. Cut my own hair, is that what she is getting at? Considering I don't have that much scissor experience like her, because my mom would not let me touch a pair of scissors until I was 15. Here she is insulting me. Why don't you just take a pair of scissors and stab me.
I could maybe do it. I would have to practice first though. I could like, cut strips of paper.
Second thought, I wont get my hair done. If I do, I'm gonna pick the worst hair cut ever. Just to annoy her even more.