Winter wonderland be damned

Winter wonderland Oslo may not be. The first snowstorm has made this vibrant city into a former Soviet republic in the late 80s and I don't care for it. I'm to thin for below zero temperatures and wind might easily knock me over.
Not to mention that since I'm no longer living in horrifying yet exquisite solitude, in a government owned silo, I now must overcome my hatred of other people and their habits and individual gross'ity.
As today when I, as the only un-hungover person (in the world probably), had to endure the smell of hungover men. I cannot elaborate on the unfathomable smell, because writing the words to describe it would make me vomit and reading them them would undoubtedly make you vomit especially in your, presumably, fragile state.
To escape the horrid smell of my disgusting roommates whom vomit in their rooms, climb in windows and bleed copiously while at it, I would have had to climb inside a large animal of some sort to keep warm.
Luckily I'll have to spend the next three-four days indoors in lukewarm libraries, if I can get up in the ungodly enough hour to get a seat at a Stalinesq desk and an uncomfortable and often broken chair in a leaky library called Sophus Bugge, writing to home-exams.
Ah, what doesn't one do for a completely useless Bachelors degree?
So, let it snow, let it snow, let it FUCKING snow!

Hare Krishna

Siren

Pictures of the magical me!

Oh sweet internet, has it been that long? I have been internet-less for almost a week today; it stopped working last Monday whilst I was in the midst of a week of two papers due at university. It was as is God was punishing me for being one of the lucky...well, many able to see Alice in Wonderland before its premier. Therefore I am now sitting in a beer/rave drenched computer room at the student radio craphole where I work (at least I don't need to wear make-up here, because I'm not here nearly enough for anyone to recognize me).

This is all beside the point of this post, because I'm really just popping by the internet to show you the pictures the lovely Anette Schive took of me last Saturday (right after seeing that man get chopped into tiny pieces by a moving train). She made me feel at ease under the circumstances and I think the pictures came out rather well:










Anette "the photographer" Schive has magical lensic powers. I assume you've seen some of my tagged images on facebook, how that gollum-like ugly duckling turned into the swan you see in these images, you'll have to ask Anette. See move of her work here, as well as contact information.

Pray for me in my internetless existence, Hare Krishna

Siren