Archive for June, 2011

No, I’m not talking about cocain or any other reference to drug. You fucking junkie. Just because it seems like I’m constantly high on something, doesn’t mean that I actually am. Well, I’m usually high on caffeine and sugar, but that’s a legal substance, even though I abuse it as well as I can.

I’m talking about Coca Cola, the stuff that I consider black gold. Screw oil. The world would survive without it. I wouldn’t survive without coke. Coke should be given on perscription simply because it brings new life to your body. I can feel like I’ve just had a train run over me and then had the neighbour’s cat pee on my leg after I slipped in dog shit, and then have a glass or can of coke and then be a new person. It’s better than redbull. Redbull sucks donkey balls compared to coke. If Jesus had any sense, he would have ignored the request of turning water into wine and make it into coke instead. People would have gone apeshit and he probably wouldn’t have been nailed up to a cross. “Guys, think about it. This is the dude that gave us coke. We might be stupid, but we’re not that retarded.”

So you might be wondering why I want it on perscription. Well, the thing is that here in Norway after you’ve spent 1800 NOK(or something like that. That’s the last number I’ve heard at least) on medicine perscribed by you for your doctor due to long lasting or chronic disease, the government will pay for the rest. So if I( I don’t give two fucks about the rest of the people) could get it on perscription, I could have the government pay for my coke.

Now you might wonder why I want this delicious and life bringing liquid on perscription, when the propaganda calls it unhealthy and that it will ruin your teeth and toes and whatnot. Now these are of course all lies put out by the vegetable and smoothie industry, trying to make sure that you buy their so called “healthy” crap instead of the nourishing coke that will bring your body to life.

We’ve all been there. The morning after. You feel like shit. You wanna throw up and your head is hammering like the fast beat of a bad porn movie. You look around and you see half naked strippers on the bed and on the floor, drooling and condoms on their face. You stagger into the bathroom and everything from last night comes out and you feelĀ  a micro orgasm as you empty your bladder, and a small sense of victory that you didn’t spill anything on the floor. You look into the mirror and instead of seeing yourself you see Quasimodo after a 24 hour shift of bellringing in the Notre Dame.

Then you stagger over into the kitchen, feeling like you’ve run a marathon that’s only an upwards hill before you finally reach the fridge. With the effort of a Strongman competitor you open the fridge door, and there inside the fridge you see the holy grail of hangover cures. An ice cold can of coke. With the final effort of a dying man you grab the can, open it and try to ignore the loud sound that almost ruin your eardrums, and even already as you can smell it you feel a spark of life growing in you. Then you raise the can to your lips, take a sip, and instantly you feel your body react like Popeye after getting a mouthful of spinach. You realise that this heavinly drink was in fact given to man from God himself to cure hangover. Every drop of coke that enters your body brings new life, and you realise that Jesus didn’t ressurect Lasarus; he only gave a really hungover Lasarus a cold coke.

That’s why coke should be on perscription.


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And an awesome wailing was heard throughout heaven as the terrible hand of the Lord struck upon the earth. And as Almighty God created you, now He calleth you home.


I’m angry. I’m actually furious. Sometimes it’s good being angry, but it kinda sucks when you don’t have a face or an object to turn your anger against. Usually you have a face that you wanna punch, like your neighbour or maybe his kids, or you have an object you wanna crush, like the new IKEA furniture that just won’t stick together even though you’ve looked at the manual 20 000 times and you’re still none the wiser.

You might wonder what has brought on this fury before you settle for the thought that I just had a fart that smelt a bit worse than I expected and because of the stench I’m now in a very sour mood(can’t hit a smelly fart, no matter how much you want to), but that’s not true. What has brought on the rage is a faceless monster who is among those people who should be hanged by their neck until dead. Since I have time(and obviously so do you since you’re reading this shit), I will tell you why.

A couple of days ago my cousins boyfriend was at work. He was outside doing something(I dunno what he was doing, but I doubt it was anything productive) when he heard a little noise. The little noise was a cute little kitten. I’ve seen a picture of this little kitten and it’s melt-your-heart cute. He found this kitten 100 meter from the freeway. No houses, waters or rivers nearby, just office buildings, warehouses and the freeway. Someone had just thrown this little kitten out of their car while driving 90 km/h and hoped that traffic would take care of the rest. Luckily, the kitten which I have named Scarface(he has a little wound on his nose) survived and is now in two pairs of cat loving hands.

The kind of people that do this brings out total fury in me. One thing is killing a kitten, that can be somewhat justifiable if it’s just done quickly and no pain. Not having the balls to do it and just hope that the scared little kitty will be run over by a car is not justifiable in any way. This is why I should be dictator of the world. These kinds of people would be taken care of by the worst sociopaths and killers the world can produce and they would recieve a long, painful and agonising death. I’d bring up old torture methods from the Middle Ages and I would come up with a couple of new ones. After the torture and inevitable death of these people(and I use that term very loosely) they would be beheaded and their heads would be mumified and put on a stake as a warning to everyone else.

Some people should not own animals, simply because they are worse than animals themselves. It’s one thing if you have a dog you can’t control because you don’t have the balls to discipline it or you don’t know how to control it, but for the love of God, there’s a limit to what any functional or non functional, just or unjust, society can handle. These people ought to die terrible deaths, hopefully inventive deaths as well. Hanging and beheading is too good for them. Maybe in the end.

I want one of those guys in front of me, exposed to torture, be given a James Bondish licence to kill and a gun and as I point the gun to their forehead I would look into their eyes and utter the quite epic quote from Boondock Saints II that you see above. Then I pull the trigger and I’ll let The Grim Reaper come and collect their so called souls and drag them down to hell for eternal suffering without relief(make sure you empty your bladder before you go, never know if the facilities down there are sanitable).

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… to a man. Yes, there are a few things you should never expose a man for, especially not if he is your partner. Consider this little post an educational introduction into the male phsyce. I do this to help humanity and maybe make the world a better place for us men and thus also you women(lies. I was told that by publishing educational blog posts I’d recieve money”.

1) What are you thinking about? Never EVER ask your man this question. It’s simple. This question may make us men panic. It’s not a problem if we’re thinking about work or school or anything like that. Then we’ll just spew out the normal boring stuff. However, this question may send a man into panic due to several different reasons;

1) He may not be thinking of anything at all and he’s quickly trying to come up with something smart to think about so that he doesn’t seem like a complete idiot. Usually this results in an even dumber thought, like “I think roses are prettiest when they are pink”. If you listen very carefully after hearing this statement, you’ll hear the sound of the man’s self esteem and value shatter and in the next toilet visit he’ll shit it out like a bad bunch of tacos.

2) He’s thinking of other women. Maybe he just saw a woman across the street with an increadibly hot ass and he thought “that is a nice ass”. That can be it. Or he could be thinking of your sister and how much he’d want to do her in your bed. So when being asked the question he has a choice to either appear like a complete idiot or a perv. You’re basically asking him what kind of rope he wants to hang himself with.

3) He’s fantasising. Not about other women, but about how awesome it would be to be part of a SWAT team that has to storm the building across the street. Or maybe he’s thinking that the roof of the tall building down the street is perfect for a sniping position. Anyway, when asked he’ll either talk about pretty roses or he’ll tell you how awesome it would be to be a sniper sitting on the building over there, and once again you’ll hear the sound of shattered self esteem tacos.

Luckily, I already have a defense ready, which will be “Yellow roses are pretty, but I’d like to see blue ones” because I know people already think I’m an idiot.

2) Make jokes about his penis. Don’t you ever joke about his manhood. It’s not nice. Actually it’s devestating. You’ll hear guys call each other “needledick” and other names implying they have a small cock. This is different. The difference between a man calling another man needledick and a woman calling her boyfriend/husband needledick are the same as a little pebble on the beach and something the size of Jupiter. It’s just not acceptable to do such a thing. Self esteem tacos will follow.

3) Try to make him believe farts and burps are not funny. Because they are! End of discussion!

4) The silent treatment. All men fear it and try to avoid it. If we piss a woman off and we get the silent treatment, it’s torture. So, why should you women not use it? Because it has limited effect for longer periods of time. Before you know it he will realise that jacking off isn’t as bad as he thought it was and take out works well as every meal of the day. The end result is a shitload of noodle boxes around the house and no tissues. So in reality, this just backfires on you since the man has the ability to not care at all. Sucks to be you.

These 4 starters should help you get started with your new partner. Have a good read, and try to understand that I’m actually helping you with this shit. I have not exposed any big secrets, I’m just trying to make it easier for you and your newfound hubby to live in a little less misery then what you’re already doomed to live in.

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I must say, I’m impressed. As I’m writing this my blog has over 150 views, something I didn’t think would happen. I just wrote and I thought this blog would die in the big blog massgrave graveyard. However, it’s been viewed more times than I thought it would, so if there are any regular readers out there, thank you.

I know 150 isn’t much, but to me it’s actually a lot. I’m not one of these celebreties that makes everyone go “omg! Angelina Jolie is writing about her digestion! Must read about celebrity poo!” Nor does it take up the big things in the news, like Libya, bin Laden and the shitstorm in FIFA(which is just as well, considering that wordpress would probably shut me down if I did). It’s not a commercial blog that says which sort of make up and shaving cream you gotta wear. It’s just a blog about things that nobody really cares about. Maybe that’s why I can be bold and call this blog Vox Populi – The voice of the public, because that’s what we usually talk about. Some of our conversations are about what a major prickhead Strauss-Kahn is(you gotta be biggest bighead in the universe if you have a last name that actually means King), but most of our conversations are about things that only a few of us really care about. Is there really anyone apart from your friends and family that gives a shit if you had a good day today? I hate to be the one who breaks it to you, but no.

Anyway, on to some good stuff. My ranting. Youtube is a wonderful place. On youtube you can find music, funny clips and guides how to open a can of Tuna with rubber band(never searched for it, but you probably can). However, there’s a bunch of useless crap on youtube, things that people should be punished for uploading. Death penalty might be taking it a bit too far, but breaking every finger they have should be a minimum.

I’m talking(of course) about those that upload brag videos. If you’re searching for a song and the 100 first search results are vids of shitheads that feels the need to brag to the world that they can actually play the guitar and thinks they’re as talented as Lenny Kravitz when in reality they’re as talented as a freshly laid pile of camel manure. These exhobitionist that think they’re the most awesome people in the world because they can kinda play the intro to Europe – Final Countdown on an untuned piano after one year of intensive training. If you feel increadibly good then show it to your friends when they’re drunk, and they might actually have the decency to lie to you and tell you that you’re decent. Until then, be a decent human being and spare the world for your lack of talent. Go to Idol or Shitty country’s got talent and make a fool of yourself for everyone there.

There’s another group of people that should have their webcam shoved down their throat. These annoying pieces of shit that spams youtube with their videoblog. 95% of them have an increadibly annoying voice that buries deep in your head and stays there constantly buzzing like a half dead fly trying to take off. “What about the remaining 5%” you may wonder. Well, they’re just so god damn ugly that you want to wash your eyes with chlorine and then claw them out and burn them while screaming “God, someone please remove the images!!!” This is a good example of what you’ll look like after seeing their faces.

All that said, there are a lot of good singers out there who uses youtube to promote themselves in ways that wasn’t possible before. Danielle Ate The Sandwich is a good example, simply because she can play an instrument and her texts are original, which is more than what can be said about 70% of all rappers(there’s the commercial. Now present the dough!). Rebecca Black is a horrible example, however it’s a good example as to why people with good music taste should be given dictatorship over what can and can’t be posted. It would be for the greater good.

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Ok, I’m not John the Revelator. I bet I’m as far from a biblical person as you can get it, unless you’re looking for the most evil of assholes in the Good Book. Like I’ve always said; I have a seat saved for me in hell, in the VIP section along with Hitler, Thatcher and Justin Bieber when he dies(I know God can forgive everything, but I doubt he can forgive Justin Bieber. Gotta be the exception that confirms the rule).

Speaking of the most evil creature the devil has ever placed on Earth, some lowlife paprazzi took some great photo’s of Bieber and his girlfriend(paparazzi is a lowlife because he’s forced to follow Bieber. How low on the paparazzi ladder can you get?) on a beach. After this, the girl’s twitter account was spammed with pre-teen girls saying how they were going to kill her etc. I think we should thank whoever came up with twitter(can’t be arsed to look it up) for this invention. Now the health authorities can only find the people behind the different twitter accounts and lock them all up as phsyco’s.

Know what? I just came up with the greatest reality program EVER. It’s simple; 10 bieber fans in a room and say that one of them might get to have a 5 min convo with the son of the devil himself. Close the door and see what happens. Probably yelling, stupid insults and then catfight. I think it could be entertaining to watch. At least it would be better than a lot of the other reality TV shows that’s out and about. I didn’t know that Selena Gomez(apparantly that’s the future Princess of Hell) was a lesbian.

A quick riddle: What do you do if you’re in a room with Rebecca Black and Justin Bieber and you have a gun with only one bullet? You shoot Rebecca Black, rip of her arm and beat Justin Bieber to death with it.

Enough talk about the son of the Devil. We’re off and delving into the month of June, which I’m willing to bet is named after the ancient godess Juno(once again, can’t be arsed to look it up). The summer has now officially started. And guess how it started here; cold, wind, rain. How awesome is that??? I live on the northern hemisphere, which means that when we arrive at June it’s supposed to be summer, not some shitty weather that we’re supposed to have in November(which is a really shitty month, btw).

COME SEE EBOUE!(sorry, I have a certain weird type of tourettes that’s not really diagnosed, but I’m pretty sure I have something similar.)

I wish I had some more strange shit to say, but I’ll come back to that later. I can be rather random, so you’ll see statements like “Ronaldo is a greased up cunt that left Utd. because he got tired of recieving surprise buttsex from Rooney and Rio” when I’m talking about the similarities between Christianity and Islam and the religion of Jimmy the Weirdo who believes crap is holy, and God will show himself if he gathers 100 kg of green poo. I’ll leave you with the image of a huge, smelling green pile of shit. And yes, I am sick and disgusting

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