Bye, bye Blogger!

Have decided to move my blog to Wordpress. Henceforth, you will find my words of wisdom at:

http://notmypenguin.wordpress.com/

More nostalgia...

This time in the form of Flying Viking Kittens which entertained me no end during university times in Bath. I also recommend you check out the Spongemonkeys if you were at all amused by those funky kittens.

Almost stealing from Emma..

but only almost. And completely inocently. It seems we have some kind of synergy. Good old Emma dishes out a skärpning to H&M for it's love-in with designers and the ensuing hysteria and I see said post just as I log in to give out about people queuing outside H&M, Hansa Compagniet or anywhere else for that matter before it opens on a Sunday. I'll be honest, no day is acceptable but least of al a Sunday. If you've something that needs buying so urgently, go on Saturday you fools. There are over 60 shops at Hansa... do people really think that many others are going to go there at midday on a Sunday, go to the same shop and buy the same item they had their eyes on and it just happens to be the last one in stock. Of course they're not... they went on Saturday! Better still... they all queue up and then stroll in so casually so they don't look foolish. Erm, too late!

Best get down there early, Kalle! You never know...

Rispeck!

Was just browsing on the old YouTube. I was looking for some good A-Team/Mr.T clips to have a chuckle at but instead came across this pearler of a clip. Mr.T, as we all know, would do anything for the kids but that doesn't mean the great man will allow a no-good punk lipping off to his momma. Oh my, no! Respect to all the mothers out there, Mr.T-stylee...



Brilliant, I'm sure you'll agree.

Finally...

I've been slack. Incredibly slack. Laziness and a lack of inspiration have been the principal causes of said slackness. Alas, no longer. I am making a triumphant return. Like Wispas.

'Tis but a short post as technically I should be reading Paddy Clarke ha ha ha as part of my course. A short coffee break has allowed me to get back on the blogging wagon. What fun it has been! Enjoy my friends...

A tip... play the video in fullscreen mode.

inactivity

Due to the following

-a presentation
-a honeymoon
-an essay
-a broken computer

Essay should be done and dusted by mid-morning tomorrow leaving me a little blogging time before I jet off to Warsaw for the weekend. In other news, today I saw a grown man wearing an overall (a kind of jumpsuit for winter climes that I do not know the English word for) It was multi-coloured. He had a thin brown belt as an accessory. It was ace! What I didn't understand, however, was why he wore a baseball cap. Surely if it's that cold you'd put a proper woolly hat on. Also, baseball is bloody awful!

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!

Hairdressers and their infinte creativity

Firstly, apologies (again) for the slackness in regards to blog updating in recent times. I have, oddly enough, been quite busy with school, Hjalmar, football and primarily wedding stuff. It is now a mere four days away and everything is yet to fall in to place. Some smart-arse, sceptics among you may be inclined to point out that things to not just fall in to place and it takes planning and organisation to make things like weddings run smoothly, but this is not my forté so a considerable amount has been left to the proverbial eleventh hour. Anyhoo, I'm sure it'll be fine come Saturday.

Otherwise my day has been spent at school where I had my first meeting with my mentor. All is well and I'm happy with my placement school in Rosengård! I have also wandered around Malmö looking for shoes for Hjalmar... all to no avail! I also wanted to find a back-up tie in case the one I've ordered doesn't materialise but Hjallis was having none of it.

Now, to the main point of the post... hairdressers and creativity. This is a rough estimate but there are about 700 million hairdressers in Malmö. And I think it's fair to say that 99% have brilliant names. So inventive...

Today, I passed my absolute favourite ever:

'Hair Force One'... genius. The idea of naming your salon after the aeroplane of the president of the US of A doesn't just come to mere mortals like myself... only to those on a higher intellectual and creative plain. Hairdressers clearly belong in that group that roam that cerebral highveld.

In other news, my team were in Sydsvenskan today after winning our Australian Rules football competition. Huzzah!

Here it is... Hair Force One! I doff my cap to thee!

A long overdue update...

This weekend has been a bit of a non-event in all fairness. A case of acute lumbago (ryggskott for you swedes) during training put paid not only to my plans to play football on Saturday but also stopped the stag-night festivities planned by my dear friends. Shame!

Instead, I pretty much felt sorry for myself. Friday, in particular was decidedly rubbish! Following the instructions from the doctor I attempted to keep myself moving and succeeded only in wandering around Malmö like a lost war veteran... who may or may not have soiled himself depending on your angle of viewing. Also did a quite a few pregnant-woman-two-handed-pushes-to-bottom-of-back-whilst-breathing-out-forcefully numbers!

Sunday was more productive. Bread was baked with the help of Hjalmar. His first time. 4 litres of soup, the split-pea variety, was made. General cleanig was done. Muchos delicious meat devoured in the evening. A most pleasing food-day.

*Picture tonight*

Monday was spent taking care of a feverish Hjalmar. A lot of Alfons Åberg and Thomas the Tank Engine has been watched.

As of yesterday, I'm officially a student again. Joy of joys! Should have much more time for blogging...

ON/OFF

I can't be the only person to have noticed that the ON/OFF advert jingle goes as follows:

We aim to please,

and if you're not satisfied we're down on our knees!

Hmmmm...

Enough said, really.

Nerdiness!

I was browsing the sport pages on dn.se only to come across, much to my astonishment, an article about Englands' recent triumph over Australia in the Ashes (Cricket stuff, for those not in the know).

Now, I like cricket. Have grown up with it. I get it. People in Sweden, through no fault of their own, generally don't. Generally to the tune of 99.9%. I can accept cluelessness and bored, vacant stares when I enthusiastically attempt (in vain) to explain the game to Swedes. It's pretty much par for the course!

However, if one publishes an article on the topic of cricket and, more specifically, the Ashes 2009 then I expect a lot better. Especially if it is a high-end newspaper like Dagens Nyheter. The article was full of erroneous statements and inaccuracies that I will not go in to now. Needless to say, I was highly peeved and took out my frustration using a little tab that allows you to suggest corrections to their articles and sending them a small essay with the mistakes that needed correcting.

2 days later... they've only gone and updated it! Victory is mine! I took on Dagens Nyheter and won! They did not change all I demanded. They are still referring to The Oval (cricket ground) as the Mecka of international cricket. Fools! If there is to be a 'Mecka' then surely it would be the ground known to all with any knowledge of cricket as 'the home of cricket', Lords!

This picture displays adequately my feelings upon seeing they had taken heed of my message:

I am the Ultimate (cricket-mistake-in-sweden-correcting) Warrior

I am also a huge nerd!

Tabloids, glossies and 'sex'

This is a topic that popped in to my head last week that I've been meaning to bring up since. It would have appeared sooner but I've been busy. When not busy, I've been lazy.

I should clarify what I mean before continuing. I am referring specifically to the combining of the word 'sex' and another word to create new words. I say tabloids and glossies as this is predominantly where I have come across such bastardisation of the english language but indubitably there are others guilty of the linguistc crime. Examples, I hear you cry...

One of the earliest examples I came across was the now classic 'Sex-pert'. An expert on the topic of sex. Usually some kind of agony aunt giving advice to those who require it on a host of carnal matters. This person is almost always referred to as 'our resident sex-pert' because a normal expert is just not as raunchy and fun! From this early misdemeanour the problem has spiralled out of control. I am a staunch advocate of lists as those (few) people who read my blog will no doubt concur. Here is another, this time with words regularly paired with 'sex':

• 'Sex-pertise' - The aforementioned Sex-pert is often asked to provide their 'sex-pertise'. A natural progression to ease our way in. Occasionally, the words are doubled up in the same sentence which is particularly heinous.
• 'Sex-ploits' - Sexual exploits of person or persons (usually a minor celebrity).
• 'Sex-capades' - See 'sex-ploits'.
• 'Sex-tasy' - A certain kind of ecstasy obtained only via the medium of sex.
• 'Sex-tacular' - Now we're really scraping the barrel!
• 'Sex-athon' - I kid you not. I've seen it used!

Here are some more innovative ways I think the formula could be used:

• Sex-communication - to be expelled from the church on grounds of sexual discrepancies.
• Sex-ploitation - Exploitation of the word sex to make something appear more interesting than it really is.

Innuendo - IN YOUR ENDO! (Thank you kindly, Scrubs!)

False advertising?

Saw this in the shop the other day...

Reading the label would suggest that this jam would contain oranges, right? Wrong!

Closer inspection would reveal that the closest thing to orange in this jar was 'orange acidity regulator'. Whatever that is? My initial thought was that it would regulate the acidity of the oranges, but there aren't any. So it might be an acidity regulator with either orange colour or taste or both. Where is the acidity coming from though if there are no oranges? Worrying!