Victory is mine..

Ok. Perhaps not victory, but a mild sense of personal pride for what many would deem a particularly modest achievement. I have found out how to embed YouTube clips direct in to the blog. No mean feat for somebody as unknowledgeable as my good self. So, for your viewing pleasure, I present 'Geordie Jeans':

Kulkorvar...

... är inte korvar. Och verkligen inte kul.

Alltså, nu skriver jag på svenska för första gången på den här bloggen. Det känns konstigt. Och bra. Mest bra. Anledningen till att jag skriver på svenska är, som ni väl redan har uppfattat, de här korvjävlarna. Det skulle inte funka att skriva om dem på engelska. I alla fall...

Jag är walesare och gillar därmed korv. Riktiga korvar alltså. Med kött i. För ungefär 24 kronor får du ca. 68 kulkorvar som innehåller:

Vatten, gris- och nötkött (34%), potatismjöl, fläsk - och svålprotein, svål, koksalt, antioxidationsmedel E325, E300, blodprotein av nöt och gris, socker, kryddor, potatisfiber, köttbuljongextrakt, arom, konserveringmedel E250, E262, rökarom

Hur kul är det nu?

Man ser tydligt att det innehåller rökarom. Gott. Den andra aromen då? Vad är det för arom? Är det bara allmän arom? Kan man köpa det?

Jag har letat lite efter vad de olika ingredienserna är men inte lyckats helt. Men E250 och 262 är konserveringsmedel. Bäde börjar på 'natrium' så jag antar att det är salt av något slag. Så koksalt plus två andra sorters salt. Kan tänka mig att köttbuljongsextrakten har salt i också. Fyra sorters salt! Hmmmmm...

Sugen? Inte? Tänkte väl det...

När jag på jakt efter information angående ingredienserna så hittade jag en rolig kommentar på någon matsida. Den lyder som följer:

"Förövrigt hatar jag korv. :D (hans smiley) Korv med bröd kan va gott dock, länge sen jag åt det. All annan korv tycker jag e äcklig."

Sakta i backarna! Vad sade du? Blir korven annorlunda bara för att man har bröd? Eller är det en speciell sorts korv som man bara får med bröd?

Äckligt!

Gott!

On the buses...

My friends. It seems that I have re-established my blogging routine somewhat. I am, therefore, reverting to 'the good old days' (about 2 months ago) where Sydsvenskan amongst others provided me with a seemingly endless supply of material.

Today's story comes from Sydsvenskan via Tysta Tankar. For those not able (or too lazy) to read the article, it goes a bit like this.

Man exposes himself to female passengers on a bus from Copenhagen and masturbates in front of them. Arrested upon arrival in Malmö. The women had apparently had the misfortune of being on the same bus as the man on the trip to Copenhagen. He, quelle surprise, had exposed himself and masturbated then too.

My questions are thus:

Why was he not arrested upon arrival in Copenhagen?

Why was he allowed back on the bus in the evening?

Assuming the women got up and moved, did he follow them?

If so, how was his balance affected walking down a bus aisle whilst otherwise engaged in self-love?

Can you walk up an aisle? It just sounds wrong. I've only ever heard of walking down the aisle. People walk down the aisle when getting married. Do they walk back up the aisle afterwards? Or is it down regardless?

Also, the t-shirt this guy was wearing should surely have given the game away!

"What do you mean 'Am I going to wank on this bus?' Whatever gave you that idea? Oh..."

More joy...

Just to be on the safe side before I hit the aforementioned horse-fodder.

Another Youtube clip which makes me laugh every time.

Enjoy! If you haven't seen Father Ted before now. Rent it, download it, whatever. Just make sure you see it!

A bit of positivity!

A lot of my blog entries are negative. Funny. But negative. So here is a little something to brighten our day now that winter is closing in on us quicker than sicky Elin has ploughed through series 3 of The West Wing.

A little clip from the You Tube that I found on another blog that I, as of yesterday, am a devoted follower of. She held a lecture for our course and it was probably the best lecture I've ever had. Better even than my old Italian Politics teacher's lecture on Machiavelli which opened with a Van-Damme 'Kickboxer' reference. It was that good...

Am currently writing a literature review together with Elin and it's to be handed in tomorrow. Meanwhile, my coursies are going to an 80s disco at KB. Hmmmm... What would I rather be doing?

Not to end on a negative note I should point out that the writing is going well. Warm dessert wine is being sipped and I soon shall be hitting the proverbial hay hoping that H will allow us a full nights sleep before we crack on with the essay tomorrow. Tomorrow will also see meat delivered to my door (thank you, Choco, Therese and Isabella). I love meat. Meat delivered to my door is going to be spectacular.

Meat!

Also, a mere 10 sleeps till we set off for honeymoon the first in Austria. Prima!

Leben. Ist. Gut.

The Wedding

As of 26th September, I am officially a married man. Nothing is different. I never really expected it to be.

Being non-religious both, we opted for a civil service which would be quick, free and devoid of any lord-thanking. We were told it would be a quick service but I am still shocked as to how short it was. The woman who wed us (who was sporting some kind of animal-print jacket, Leopard I believe) told us that being that the service would be in English it'd be shorter than the normal 3-4 minutes.

After about 90 seconds it was all over and I was invited, and I quote Leopard-Lady, to 'kiss the broad'! I accepted. Just prior to the service I must admit I introduced myself to L-L as Elin. Wasn't nervous. Honestly.

The party at Ängavallen was a triumph. Fantastic food was eaten. Great wine was drunk. Superb, emotive speeches were given (all of which were presented beautifully by toastmaster and blogger extraordinaire, Emma). Then the beer flowed, the dance floor filled, ties were wrapped around heads and a great time was had by all!

Also, I wore spiffing purple braces!

Poo-bags in Bokskogen

On Saturday, we (myself, Elin, Hjallis and another couple and their daughter) took the bus out to Torups Rekreationsområde more commonly known as Bokskogen. When one goes to the forest, one inevitably does the following:

• Eats/drinks far too much (in our case soup and bread, coffee, biscuits, scones, coffee and kanelbullar)
• Feels unbelievably tired after having walked around for a mere few hours
• Picks up a large stick to carry round
• Says thing like 'we should definitely do this more often', knowing full well it won't happen because one is a lazy townie!

After a few hours of walking we came across something that I have seen previously and been most irritated but have left it out of the blog. No more. You see, there are people, stupid people, who take their dogs out for a walk and then, after picking up Rovers' business with one of those little poo-bags (as all good dog owners do) they then proceed to throw said poo-bag on the ground again instead of a in a bin. Why? Why would you pick up poo only to throw it on the floor again? Surely the most unpleasant aspect is bending down and scooping up the poo? It can be squishy, for example. That's just not fun. But having picked up squishy poo, why not just dispose of it in the correct manner? All you are doing is preserving the life of aforementioned poo. Some poor curious squirrel is going to come along and rip open that bag and be subjected to a squishy, stinky unwelcome surprise. Poor squirrel.

This is not an isolated incident. I have seen it too many times for it to be a coincidence. Put your dogs damn poo in the poo-bag, put the poo-bag in a bin. Or take it home and throw on your own bloody floor where I don't have to see it and be annoyed. Say you'd bin it quick sharp if it was your own floor. Bloody poo-criminal!

Rant over!

Je suis rubbish

... my updating skills are pathetic. I was busy with getting married and all but still.

Just a short post as I'm muchos hungry. It seems that you can, if seriously lacking in inspiration, buy a gift voucher for COOP supermarkets to give to your loved ones. Or anyone else for that matter. I don't think COOP mind. Gift vouchers are a cop-out at the best of times... but for a supermarket? Disgraceful!