I mean to say, "Herre min GUD!"
How do they do it? I mean the Gym culture, here I go again and call me a grumpy old git but at least I go to the gym to train and break a sweat in a t-shirt and a pair of shorts of sweat pants.
But on Planet Gym there is a fashion that goes against every rule of decency ever written!
Why would a grown man do strength training in a pair of spray on cycle long pants ( down to the calf muscles) and add this on with a tennis sun Keps (the ones that look like a normal baseball hat but the top is removed for some unknown reason and its trendy in a gym...) I mean away ti frikk!
Then we have Messrs Wrestlers who actually have the brass neck to turn out in their spandex and grunt at every rep..oh. and of course we wrap it up little mr Bullied at school who trains in X-training boots !! indoors with a heel cos he's the height of a dwarf. This reached new heights when everyone wore those huge boots with cheap chrome bits attached..God it was pathetic....
Then of course we have the Protein burgers who leave more smog around the machines as they eat 40 grams of whey protein five times a day. Of course nobody has warned them that this will seriously damage their internals and that the body will excrete out the excess of what it doesn't require. That would amass to a lot of smog and toilet runs for Mr peewee.
The most amusing aspect is the fact that there is also a catwalk on Planet Gym for the ladies.
Regardless of shape and size they must have that slinky little Better Bodies number that the gym told them looked GREAT on them...somebody lied...and you watch in amazement as the sharks circle the new victims to the pit bull pit waiting to "help them out...".Sometimes you can count the dimples and of course its like crossing the Sahara with the amount of camel toe going on..and the make up.Why can't anyone explain that the make up may end up on their tank top after 40 minutes on the StairMaster..amusing
All this is fine, let them enjoy themselves! yes..fine..but, hold on.They're not training,Mr and Misses IQ ,they're standing around machines you want to use making a spectacle of themselves and attracting as much attention as they can..This is what tears me up. This ain't a frikken coffee shop or food market as usually the conversation lands around how much Keso or Chicken fillets you managed to stack down, or the cost of the latest Herman Munster clog to make you look bigger...
I've seen the giants of Planet Gym sneak into crannies in the back of the dressing room with the inside of a kinder egg..Of course it was a small plastic helicopter they found when they opened up the two plastic halfs..Then its straight out for a smog breaking record, coffee chat at the leg extension machine and followed up by spray date move on a innocent victim whose fallen over board..
Oh well, monday night I made my trip to Planet Gym, they probably feel I should be in a wheelchair and its disgusting I dare to walk in and disturb their hobby...
Oh well, I wouldn't miss this spectacle for the world.As I said, who needs a tv when you can visit Planet Gym?
áyé
Please note that today, monday, has been a very "tongue in cheek" monday :-)
Monday, March 19, 2007
Great Expectation Qoutes.
Abraham Lincoln:
The best thing about the future is that it only comes one day at a time.
Alexander Pope:
'Blessed is the man who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed' was the ninth beatitude.
Alice Walker:
Expect nothing, live frugally on surprise.
Anna Quindlen:
It's important to remember that feminism is no longer a group of organizations or leaders. It's the expectations that parents have for their daughters, and their sons, too. It's the way we talk about and treat one another. It's who makes the money and who makes the compromises and who makes the dinner. It's a state of mind. It's the way we live now.
Brian Tracy:
Whatever we expect with confidence becomes our own self-fulfilling prophecy.
Candace Bergen:
People see you as an object, not as a person, and they project a set of expectations onto you. People who don't have it think beauty is a blessing, but actually it sets you apart.
Cervantes:
Those who will play with cats must expect to be scratched.
Charlotte Bronte:
Life is so constructed that an event does not, cannot, will not, match the expectation.
Dame Edith Evans:
I can't imagine going on when there are no more expectations.
Dennis Wholey:
Expecting the world to treat you fairly because you are a good person is a little like expecting the bull not to attack you because you are a vegetarian.
Edward de Bono:
Unhappiness is best defined as the difference between our talents and our expectations.
Ellen Galinsky:
Cultural expectations shade and color the images that parents-to-be form. The baby product ads, showing a woman serenely holding her child, looking blissfully and mysteriously contented, or the television parents, wisely and humorously solving problems, influence parents-to-be.
Goethe:
Treat a man as he is, he will remain so. Treat a man the way he can be and ought to be, and he will become as he can be and should be."
Henry David Thoreau:
We must learn to reawaken and keep ourselves awake, not by mechanical aid, but by an infinite expectation of the dawn.
Henry David Thoreau:
We are always paid for our suspicion by finding what we suspect.
Henry David Thoreau:
Our circumstances answer to our expectations and the demand of our natures.
Henry Ford:
If you think you can, you can. And if you think you can't, you're right. also attributed to Mary Kay Ash
Joan Didion:
To free us from the expectations of others, to give us back to ourselves--there lies the great, singular power of self-respect.
John Lubbock:
What we see depends mainly on what we look for.
Leo Buscaglia:
Never idealize others. They will never live up to your expectations.
Mark Twain:
Always do right--this will gratify some and astonish the rest.
Mark Twain:
A thing long expected takes the form of the unexpected when at last it comes.
Mark Twain:
Climate is what we expect, weather is what we get.
Mary Decker Stanley:
I've always got such high expectations for myself. I'm aware of them, but I can't relax them.
Mary Kay Ash:
Aerodynamically the bumblebee shouldn't be able to fly, but the bumblebee doesn't know that so it goes on flying anyway.
Michael Jordan:
If you accept the expectations of others, especially negative ones, then you never will change the outcome.
Patricia Neal:
A master can tell you what he expects of you. A teacher, though awakens your own expectations.
Patricia Neal:
A master can tell you what he expects of you. A teacher, though, awakens your own expectations.
Samuel Johnson:
As I know more of mankind I expect less of them, and am ready now to call a man a good man, upon easier terms than I was formerly.
Thomas Alva Edison:
If we did the things we are capable of, we would astound ourselves.
Thomas Jefferson:
I'm a great believer in luck and I find the harder I work, the more I have of it.
Victor Frankl:
A man who becomes conscious of the responsibility he bears toward a human being who affectionately waits for him, or to an unfinished work, will never be able to throw away his life. He knows the "why" for his existence, and will be able to bear almost any "how."
Walt Whitman:
Reexamine all that you have been told in school, or in church or in any book. Dismiss whatever insults your soul.
Yogi Berra:
You got to be careful if you don't know where you're going, because you might not get there.
The best thing about the future is that it only comes one day at a time.
Alexander Pope:
'Blessed is the man who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed' was the ninth beatitude.
Alice Walker:
Expect nothing, live frugally on surprise.
Anna Quindlen:
It's important to remember that feminism is no longer a group of organizations or leaders. It's the expectations that parents have for their daughters, and their sons, too. It's the way we talk about and treat one another. It's who makes the money and who makes the compromises and who makes the dinner. It's a state of mind. It's the way we live now.
Brian Tracy:
Whatever we expect with confidence becomes our own self-fulfilling prophecy.
Candace Bergen:
People see you as an object, not as a person, and they project a set of expectations onto you. People who don't have it think beauty is a blessing, but actually it sets you apart.
Cervantes:
Those who will play with cats must expect to be scratched.
Charlotte Bronte:
Life is so constructed that an event does not, cannot, will not, match the expectation.
Dame Edith Evans:
I can't imagine going on when there are no more expectations.
Dennis Wholey:
Expecting the world to treat you fairly because you are a good person is a little like expecting the bull not to attack you because you are a vegetarian.
Edward de Bono:
Unhappiness is best defined as the difference between our talents and our expectations.
Ellen Galinsky:
Cultural expectations shade and color the images that parents-to-be form. The baby product ads, showing a woman serenely holding her child, looking blissfully and mysteriously contented, or the television parents, wisely and humorously solving problems, influence parents-to-be.
Goethe:
Treat a man as he is, he will remain so. Treat a man the way he can be and ought to be, and he will become as he can be and should be."
Henry David Thoreau:
We must learn to reawaken and keep ourselves awake, not by mechanical aid, but by an infinite expectation of the dawn.
Henry David Thoreau:
We are always paid for our suspicion by finding what we suspect.
Henry David Thoreau:
Our circumstances answer to our expectations and the demand of our natures.
Henry Ford:
If you think you can, you can. And if you think you can't, you're right. also attributed to Mary Kay Ash
Joan Didion:
To free us from the expectations of others, to give us back to ourselves--there lies the great, singular power of self-respect.
John Lubbock:
What we see depends mainly on what we look for.
Leo Buscaglia:
Never idealize others. They will never live up to your expectations.
Mark Twain:
Always do right--this will gratify some and astonish the rest.
Mark Twain:
A thing long expected takes the form of the unexpected when at last it comes.
Mark Twain:
Climate is what we expect, weather is what we get.
Mary Decker Stanley:
I've always got such high expectations for myself. I'm aware of them, but I can't relax them.
Mary Kay Ash:
Aerodynamically the bumblebee shouldn't be able to fly, but the bumblebee doesn't know that so it goes on flying anyway.
Michael Jordan:
If you accept the expectations of others, especially negative ones, then you never will change the outcome.
Patricia Neal:
A master can tell you what he expects of you. A teacher, though awakens your own expectations.
Patricia Neal:
A master can tell you what he expects of you. A teacher, though, awakens your own expectations.
Samuel Johnson:
As I know more of mankind I expect less of them, and am ready now to call a man a good man, upon easier terms than I was formerly.
Thomas Alva Edison:
If we did the things we are capable of, we would astound ourselves.
Thomas Jefferson:
I'm a great believer in luck and I find the harder I work, the more I have of it.
Victor Frankl:
A man who becomes conscious of the responsibility he bears toward a human being who affectionately waits for him, or to an unfinished work, will never be able to throw away his life. He knows the "why" for his existence, and will be able to bear almost any "how."
Walt Whitman:
Reexamine all that you have been told in school, or in church or in any book. Dismiss whatever insults your soul.
Yogi Berra:
You got to be careful if you don't know where you're going, because you might not get there.
Flowers and Curtains....
One shouldn’t judge. Correct.
So how come when I hear stories about guys who go to Ikea twice a week, make flower arrangements and sew curtains and enjoy it, I'm I simply old fashioned in believing....well, you know. And before we label , no the person in question doesn't “bat for the other side”.
So, is it the new generation.Well not really, these guys are in their mid thirties.
I feel my upbringing was very Scottish conservative which would actually explain rather a lot, it has taken 20 years for me to become less chauvinist and I’m fairly sure I didn’t know the word “humanist” all those years ago and of course a feminist to me was an ugly bird with a shaved head, dock martins who basically couldn’t get laid so she burnt her bra (despite not having anything to hang in it..) and claimed injustice on the world.
I realise it is strange to grasp the different cultures and their upbringing.It is hard to understand when your stuck in the middle which is why I don't get the metrasexuals, the flower arrangements and the home economics for men that enjoying baking bread and sewing curtains..
Having being expelled from Public school I ended up in the Musselburgh Grammar, the most disliked school by the teachers federation along the east coast.Ironically,
Musselburgh has a sign on the way in that states “Welcome to Musselburgh, the Honest Toon”. Yeah right, as honest as the “The Port of Tortuga” and the only home economics we were involved in was metal shop and woodwork. You can imagine. Coincidence that the teachers name was a Mr Shank. Respect or face the belt.
The grammars top bully, a Mr Rae was growing a beard at 12 and by the age of 15 had murdered a girl as she was going to beat up his then girlfriend. So dinner money bullying wasn’t really the norm.The accidental murder caused the largest civil family street war Mussi had ever witnessed and you were best to be aware of who was in the Kindergarden pubs when you had your pint.
Not sure but guys were guys , and fighting was honourable and an accepted part of growing up. Not sure if that’s just a Scottish (british ) culture but as soon as it was backs to the wall you knew what you had to do.
With age and reflection of course you see things in a different light, but at the same time it isn't easy to wipe out the stuff that was made backbone prio.Plumber mates found it amusing to pick up crap on the street and throw it around as they were "used to it.." was an interesting concept. Even to this day most of the builders in Scotland walk around in jeans and a t-shirt and the difference over here is amazing, I'll never forget being kitted out when I started working as a builder in Uppsala. very Professional.Maybe things have changed in the 20 years I’ve been gone..although I’m fairly sure the scots don’t carry black bags around in their pockets to pick up the dog crap so maybe the plumbers still throw it at each other…
My trade was self taught mc mechanic at the age of 16/17. I opened my own shop and at the same time started building my own projects. When it came to priorities it was making sure we had the bikes ready and tuned for either the coast road run between Mussi and North Berwick or better still a whole day of insanity on the A7 between Edinburgh and Galashiels. We lost a few mates down the years but they we’re separate incidents and never when we were out with 8 – 12 bikes on a full speed cannonball run.
If you had a sofa, table and tv at home you had enough, even curtains were a luxury and the kitchens were workshops were the only utensil or eqiupment used was the kettle to boil the instant coffee and of course a large T pot. To this day you'll find it the same and I'll never forget taking an ex. of mine over to see a friend who works as a wrench on racing cars. It was difficult to get her to walk into the house and for her to see a car engine in front of the tv on a stand in front of the tv and a block on the sofa was a lasting memory.Also the fact that he had no carpets left and mentioned he'd had a "bird" over the night before..
So, as I started saying flower arranging and sewing curtains just wasn't our way. This doesn't make it wrong but sometimes I do feel that people have a misunderstanding as to how we perceive things and it’s not just some macho rubbish. It’s backbone fiber
And to be honest, I don’t really resent the Scottish way.
So how come when I hear stories about guys who go to Ikea twice a week, make flower arrangements and sew curtains and enjoy it, I'm I simply old fashioned in believing....well, you know. And before we label , no the person in question doesn't “bat for the other side”.
So, is it the new generation.Well not really, these guys are in their mid thirties.
I feel my upbringing was very Scottish conservative which would actually explain rather a lot, it has taken 20 years for me to become less chauvinist and I’m fairly sure I didn’t know the word “humanist” all those years ago and of course a feminist to me was an ugly bird with a shaved head, dock martins who basically couldn’t get laid so she burnt her bra (despite not having anything to hang in it..) and claimed injustice on the world.
I realise it is strange to grasp the different cultures and their upbringing.It is hard to understand when your stuck in the middle which is why I don't get the metrasexuals, the flower arrangements and the home economics for men that enjoying baking bread and sewing curtains..
Having being expelled from Public school I ended up in the Musselburgh Grammar, the most disliked school by the teachers federation along the east coast.Ironically,
Musselburgh has a sign on the way in that states “Welcome to Musselburgh, the Honest Toon”. Yeah right, as honest as the “The Port of Tortuga” and the only home economics we were involved in was metal shop and woodwork. You can imagine. Coincidence that the teachers name was a Mr Shank. Respect or face the belt.
The grammars top bully, a Mr Rae was growing a beard at 12 and by the age of 15 had murdered a girl as she was going to beat up his then girlfriend. So dinner money bullying wasn’t really the norm.The accidental murder caused the largest civil family street war Mussi had ever witnessed and you were best to be aware of who was in the Kindergarden pubs when you had your pint.
Not sure but guys were guys , and fighting was honourable and an accepted part of growing up. Not sure if that’s just a Scottish (british ) culture but as soon as it was backs to the wall you knew what you had to do.
With age and reflection of course you see things in a different light, but at the same time it isn't easy to wipe out the stuff that was made backbone prio.Plumber mates found it amusing to pick up crap on the street and throw it around as they were "used to it.." was an interesting concept. Even to this day most of the builders in Scotland walk around in jeans and a t-shirt and the difference over here is amazing, I'll never forget being kitted out when I started working as a builder in Uppsala. very Professional.Maybe things have changed in the 20 years I’ve been gone..although I’m fairly sure the scots don’t carry black bags around in their pockets to pick up the dog crap so maybe the plumbers still throw it at each other…
My trade was self taught mc mechanic at the age of 16/17. I opened my own shop and at the same time started building my own projects. When it came to priorities it was making sure we had the bikes ready and tuned for either the coast road run between Mussi and North Berwick or better still a whole day of insanity on the A7 between Edinburgh and Galashiels. We lost a few mates down the years but they we’re separate incidents and never when we were out with 8 – 12 bikes on a full speed cannonball run.
If you had a sofa, table and tv at home you had enough, even curtains were a luxury and the kitchens were workshops were the only utensil or eqiupment used was the kettle to boil the instant coffee and of course a large T pot. To this day you'll find it the same and I'll never forget taking an ex. of mine over to see a friend who works as a wrench on racing cars. It was difficult to get her to walk into the house and for her to see a car engine in front of the tv on a stand in front of the tv and a block on the sofa was a lasting memory.Also the fact that he had no carpets left and mentioned he'd had a "bird" over the night before..
So, as I started saying flower arranging and sewing curtains just wasn't our way. This doesn't make it wrong but sometimes I do feel that people have a misunderstanding as to how we perceive things and it’s not just some macho rubbish. It’s backbone fiber
And to be honest, I don’t really resent the Scottish way.
Bein' Oirish in the wrong place and the wrong time
If friday was quiet, the saturday wasn't, for today would be a day of rugby training, then 3 games at the Dubs which of course would have feverish Oirishmen drunk as skunk from 0730 in the morning with the tarmac Guinness poured all day.
Best comment of course came at the touch which had a record 24 players, and of course the comment came as "you may be bloody 40 but you have the legs of a 25 year old".Always nice to hear! Touch to me was the highlight of the entire weekend as it was the first time I managed to do the whole session without pulled hamstrings or sore knees, so whatever was happening a few weeks before must have got sorted.Awesome !!!!!!
It was also the last day of Frk clubhouse as we know it as the seniors moved all the furniture outside to rip the guts out.The new GRF has started.
"I'm I too old, is it too late? Where's the feeling gone, will I remember this song,The show must go on!"
For the second day in a row I donned the Hugo Boss suit as I felt this was correct for the age thing and made my way down to the dubliners for all day rugby.
France win championship giving Scotland wooden spoon, England get what they deserve from the Welsh and Ireland make Italy wake up and smell the Cappuccino.
Once again I ended the night early with some Famous and friends in good conversation and I feel that's enough to divulge into.
"I wanna go home, take off this uniform and leave the show"
As already pointed out Sunday was recovery day and an entire day of comedy was back on with a friend who needed help to stop some slight anxiety following the previous evenings activities..
That story would fill this blog but fortunately not mine to tell thank Christ...
"...was caught red handed showing feelings,
showing feelings of an almost human nature"
So now it's under a week to go before we head off to London and take on another adventure.
Planning and preparation have taken over and now its a simple case of performance and ensuring we don't lose anyone on the way.
Mondays a new day and as I said on Friday its time to turn the page and look ahead.
"The way you made them suffer, your exquisite wife and mother
feels me with the urge to defecate!"
Best comment of course came at the touch which had a record 24 players, and of course the comment came as "you may be bloody 40 but you have the legs of a 25 year old".Always nice to hear! Touch to me was the highlight of the entire weekend as it was the first time I managed to do the whole session without pulled hamstrings or sore knees, so whatever was happening a few weeks before must have got sorted.Awesome !!!!!!
It was also the last day of Frk clubhouse as we know it as the seniors moved all the furniture outside to rip the guts out.The new GRF has started.
"I'm I too old, is it too late? Where's the feeling gone, will I remember this song,The show must go on!"
For the second day in a row I donned the Hugo Boss suit as I felt this was correct for the age thing and made my way down to the dubliners for all day rugby.
France win championship giving Scotland wooden spoon, England get what they deserve from the Welsh and Ireland make Italy wake up and smell the Cappuccino.
Once again I ended the night early with some Famous and friends in good conversation and I feel that's enough to divulge into.
"I wanna go home, take off this uniform and leave the show"
As already pointed out Sunday was recovery day and an entire day of comedy was back on with a friend who needed help to stop some slight anxiety following the previous evenings activities..
That story would fill this blog but fortunately not mine to tell thank Christ...
"...was caught red handed showing feelings,
showing feelings of an almost human nature"
So now it's under a week to go before we head off to London and take on another adventure.
Planning and preparation have taken over and now its a simple case of performance and ensuring we don't lose anyone on the way.
Mondays a new day and as I said on Friday its time to turn the page and look ahead.
"The way you made them suffer, your exquisite wife and mother
feels me with the urge to defecate!"
Sunday, March 18, 2007
..if u should go skating on the thin ice of hot life..
indeed...you'll pick up on the fact that it's "recovery" sunday and the headphones are on with one of the greatest peices of work ever made, "The Wall".
"I've got a little black book with me poems in"...
The wine has gone, the Famous Grouse Bill Mclaren Rugby 15 special addition has been uncorked and despite this it was a very mild weekend.
Birthday friday I was fortunate to be allowed the day off work and due to the fact that I've been feeling off I just took it easy and watched some comedy classics, Ricky Gervais Xtras, Grumpy olf men Xmas special and the Office Xmas special.Does make you homesick for the sense for the british sense of humour and of course slightly nostalgic.
Don't think many believed me when I said I wasn't big on birthday celebrations and the fact that I turned forty was in my mind no milestone in my Life Project.
"mamma do you think they'll drop the bomb?, Mamma do you think they'll like this song? Mamma do you think they'll try and break my balls?mamma do you think I should be a wall?"
However, due to the crisis that has been ingrained into me over the past months I felt it was my obligation to do something a bit special, so I shaved the head and headed down to the local gym for a 15 minute blast in the artificial incinirator, so I could prepare for my iminenet death of course.I came out none the better for that.
"look mummy, there's an aeroplane up in the sky..."
Birthday lunch was also to be a special , Macdonalds Mcbacon with the new frys...A classic case of " Party of one again, Mr Johnson?".Well, not really.
Day went by and to be honest the worst memory was having to pass on what I'd managed to put into myself the previous evening (see previous post)but no more on that painful account.
Then I received a surprise call informing me that some of the lads had decided enough was enough and that I was to head over to a wee party in the Ghetto for 18.00 for some rum, sodomy and the lash. That was a great surprise and it was good to feel that people actually made the effort.
"ooh I need a dirty woman, ooh I need a dirty girl"
And basically that's the most important thing for me, people who make the effort. Pressing a key into a computer to send an ecard for any occasion isn't making the same effort as going out a buying a card, signing it, buying a stamp and going to a post box.Right?
I was very impressed in the fact that I received an A4 birthday card from Hyresgästsföreningen.One of three cards received that were actually personally signed.
"I can feel one of my turns coming on, one of my bad days.."
So basically it's all about making an effort and it was awesome that some guys went out of their way to put something on. And I will return the gesture to them. My present from them was quite remarkable to say the least and can't really be explained , you have to see it to believe it.It's a photograph taking by anon at the stockholm 10's around 10 years ago.More amusingly it was nicely framed and put next to a candle so I did ask if they had prepared a wake for me.
So, Boyz nite, 42 inch screen connected to internet..,for some unknown idea Billy Idol became popular on youtube..booze ran out including the whiskey and gin and we shared some old stories and of course the horseshit came up to the knees as it should , good times. I didn't end up making it home that nite either, asking for shelter instead to avoid waking up alone..
"don't give in, without a fight,
hej you, out there on your own sitting naked by the phone,Open your heart, I'm coming home"
And that was that. I got some sms's from everybody I kinda knew would send an sms and of course some long distance phone calls were incoming and made the day. One of three members of the surviving relatives contacted anyway, maybe I missed a call...or two...
"Ive got amazing powers of observation,
and that is how I know, when I try and get through, on the telephone to you,
they'll be nobody home"
Ive got wild staring eyes
and Ive got a strong urge to fly,
but Ive got nowhere to fly too....
When I pick up the phone, there's still nobody home"
So as I predicted it was a day of reflection, some people made the effort and I suddenly joined a new number.
The text is of course from "The wall", its ongoing as I write..
"I've got a little black book with me poems in"...
The wine has gone, the Famous Grouse Bill Mclaren Rugby 15 special addition has been uncorked and despite this it was a very mild weekend.
Birthday friday I was fortunate to be allowed the day off work and due to the fact that I've been feeling off I just took it easy and watched some comedy classics, Ricky Gervais Xtras, Grumpy olf men Xmas special and the Office Xmas special.Does make you homesick for the sense for the british sense of humour and of course slightly nostalgic.
Don't think many believed me when I said I wasn't big on birthday celebrations and the fact that I turned forty was in my mind no milestone in my Life Project.
"mamma do you think they'll drop the bomb?, Mamma do you think they'll like this song? Mamma do you think they'll try and break my balls?mamma do you think I should be a wall?"
However, due to the crisis that has been ingrained into me over the past months I felt it was my obligation to do something a bit special, so I shaved the head and headed down to the local gym for a 15 minute blast in the artificial incinirator, so I could prepare for my iminenet death of course.I came out none the better for that.
"look mummy, there's an aeroplane up in the sky..."
Birthday lunch was also to be a special , Macdonalds Mcbacon with the new frys...A classic case of " Party of one again, Mr Johnson?".Well, not really.
Day went by and to be honest the worst memory was having to pass on what I'd managed to put into myself the previous evening (see previous post)but no more on that painful account.
Then I received a surprise call informing me that some of the lads had decided enough was enough and that I was to head over to a wee party in the Ghetto for 18.00 for some rum, sodomy and the lash. That was a great surprise and it was good to feel that people actually made the effort.
"ooh I need a dirty woman, ooh I need a dirty girl"
And basically that's the most important thing for me, people who make the effort. Pressing a key into a computer to send an ecard for any occasion isn't making the same effort as going out a buying a card, signing it, buying a stamp and going to a post box.Right?
I was very impressed in the fact that I received an A4 birthday card from Hyresgästsföreningen.One of three cards received that were actually personally signed.
"I can feel one of my turns coming on, one of my bad days.."
So basically it's all about making an effort and it was awesome that some guys went out of their way to put something on. And I will return the gesture to them. My present from them was quite remarkable to say the least and can't really be explained , you have to see it to believe it.It's a photograph taking by anon at the stockholm 10's around 10 years ago.More amusingly it was nicely framed and put next to a candle so I did ask if they had prepared a wake for me.
So, Boyz nite, 42 inch screen connected to internet..,for some unknown idea Billy Idol became popular on youtube..booze ran out including the whiskey and gin and we shared some old stories and of course the horseshit came up to the knees as it should , good times. I didn't end up making it home that nite either, asking for shelter instead to avoid waking up alone..
"don't give in, without a fight,
hej you, out there on your own sitting naked by the phone,Open your heart, I'm coming home"
And that was that. I got some sms's from everybody I kinda knew would send an sms and of course some long distance phone calls were incoming and made the day. One of three members of the surviving relatives contacted anyway, maybe I missed a call...or two...
"Ive got amazing powers of observation,
and that is how I know, when I try and get through, on the telephone to you,
they'll be nobody home"
Ive got wild staring eyes
and Ive got a strong urge to fly,
but Ive got nowhere to fly too....
When I pick up the phone, there's still nobody home"
So as I predicted it was a day of reflection, some people made the effort and I suddenly joined a new number.
The text is of course from "The wall", its ongoing as I write..
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Well at least I have my health...
..well, not really.
Having spoilt myself in my favorite sushi bar (which was unusually empty) I washed it down with;
A mix of Masi, Citadon, Volteraine, Dahls chocoboll, Häag-Dazs strawberry cheescake, mars bar and finally a pint of Brämhults Nypressade Apelsiner...Jesus, am I sick or pregnant?
With the continuation of a permanent headache I'll be happy not only if my stomach handles the mix of suger and omega 3 but simply taking for granted that I'll wake up in the morning.
I'll not sit until 12.01 and wish myself a happy 40th. That would be even sadder than...whatever.
For me the 16th march will always be a day of reflection over the past years, family, girlfriends, trips made and not made, opportunities taken and missed and of course the constant reminder that I'm still here, my achievements and lack of them as well as the dishes , the cleaning and of course the laundry..
I don't think I'd be the only person who would want to trade in some of the memories of the past, but in perspective of course the memories I recall that I would trade are mostly around deaths and hospital visits. It will be a day of reflection and of course there will be a lot of decisions made and also decisions forgotten, reasoning and regrets as well as believing in my own foundations.
It will be strange to walk around and look at strangers thinking, it's my 40th today don't you know.But thats tomorrow and another day.Carpe Diem indeed.Lets hope I wake up first, now where did I put those pills...
áyé
Having spoilt myself in my favorite sushi bar (which was unusually empty) I washed it down with;
A mix of Masi, Citadon, Volteraine, Dahls chocoboll, Häag-Dazs strawberry cheescake, mars bar and finally a pint of Brämhults Nypressade Apelsiner...Jesus, am I sick or pregnant?
With the continuation of a permanent headache I'll be happy not only if my stomach handles the mix of suger and omega 3 but simply taking for granted that I'll wake up in the morning.
I'll not sit until 12.01 and wish myself a happy 40th. That would be even sadder than...whatever.
For me the 16th march will always be a day of reflection over the past years, family, girlfriends, trips made and not made, opportunities taken and missed and of course the constant reminder that I'm still here, my achievements and lack of them as well as the dishes , the cleaning and of course the laundry..
I don't think I'd be the only person who would want to trade in some of the memories of the past, but in perspective of course the memories I recall that I would trade are mostly around deaths and hospital visits. It will be a day of reflection and of course there will be a lot of decisions made and also decisions forgotten, reasoning and regrets as well as believing in my own foundations.
It will be strange to walk around and look at strangers thinking, it's my 40th today don't you know.But thats tomorrow and another day.Carpe Diem indeed.Lets hope I wake up first, now where did I put those pills...
áyé
pass it on...
Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense who has
been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was since his
birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape.
He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as knowing
when to come in out of the rain, why the early bird gets the worm, life
isn't always fair, and maybe it was my fault.
Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more
than you earn) and reliable parenting strategies (adults, not children, are
in charge).
His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well intentioned but
overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a six-year-old boy
charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from
school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding
an unruly student, only worsened his condition.
Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job
they themselves failed to do in disciplining their unruly children.
It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent
to administer Panadol, sun lotion or a Band Aid to a student - but could not
inform the parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an
abortion.
Common Sense lost the will to live as the Ten Commandments became
contraband, churches became businesses, and criminals received better
treatment than their victims.
Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar
in your own home and the burglar can sue you for assault.
Common Sense finally gave up the will to live after a woman failed to
realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her
lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.
Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents, Truth and Trust; his
wife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility; and his son, Reason.
He is survived by three stepbrothers; I Know My Rights, Someone Else is to
Blame, and I'm A Victim. Not many attended his funeral because so few
realized he was gone.
If you still remember him, pass this on. If not, join the majority and do
nothing.
Anon
been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was since his
birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape.
He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as knowing
when to come in out of the rain, why the early bird gets the worm, life
isn't always fair, and maybe it was my fault.
Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more
than you earn) and reliable parenting strategies (adults, not children, are
in charge).
His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well intentioned but
overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a six-year-old boy
charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from
school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding
an unruly student, only worsened his condition.
Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job
they themselves failed to do in disciplining their unruly children.
It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent
to administer Panadol, sun lotion or a Band Aid to a student - but could not
inform the parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an
abortion.
Common Sense lost the will to live as the Ten Commandments became
contraband, churches became businesses, and criminals received better
treatment than their victims.
Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar
in your own home and the burglar can sue you for assault.
Common Sense finally gave up the will to live after a woman failed to
realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her
lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.
Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents, Truth and Trust; his
wife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility; and his son, Reason.
He is survived by three stepbrothers; I Know My Rights, Someone Else is to
Blame, and I'm A Victim. Not many attended his funeral because so few
realized he was gone.
If you still remember him, pass this on. If not, join the majority and do
nothing.
Anon
another day in paradise...
Ever thought about that, for every second that passes is a part of your history.
how many live in the past? How many think of their future? It's pretty correct in saying that you can't make the hands move forward, you can watch them moving past, so your best bets living in the present and to wait and see whats coming around the next corner, without guessing?
Just a thought..
So, work is work.Frightening prospect to think that you spend more time with the people you work with than the people you love at home or friends and family, and yet you hardly know them.Or maybe not. 40 hours a week working. Depends on how late you stay up and what you do with your time.Then of course you have the weekends..suppose it evens out. However, you still spend a lot of time with people that you hardly know, (there are exceptions to this rule of course..)
And for everyday that goes past I convince myself more and more that TV has become the Babylon Whore of our civilisation and you'd have to be very naiv if you didn't understand that your being controlled to what your watching and how your thought patterns are being guided.
Throw the frikken babysitter out and breathe! You stop reasonable sense and thinking.
In hindsight I remember the major xmas sales were all based on TV's, lcd or plasma.42 inch of Big brother or O.C. Ok, maybe there is a time and a place for just switching into veggie state, but that has become abused and now we struggle to get out of it.I'm sounding old.Oh dear.
I laughed today as I walked through Göteborg listening and thinking , " ah, the sounds of Gbg" when it fact it was the sounds of amplified Peruvians playing "smoke on the water" on pan pipes, the sound echoing throughout the lower quarters..frikken dreadful
And on the otherside a new shop was being built and modified by some Polish workers who funnily enough decided to grind some girders in the polak way, which is to say the metal shards spraying all over passers-by..Hilarious.So you had Power pan pipes mixed with Grinder and a stage show from Wasp..Nobody of course would have noticed if there had been a TV switched on and hanging in the middle of the square..
I heard a comedian once say that wars would never have been fought if they'd flown helicopters over the troops with TV's as everybody would have stopped and watched TV.Doesn't matter where you are nowadays, they're all switched on, even in clothes shops.
And the worst of course, well it has to be the people who buy a gym card , put on their nano and run on a running machine indoors watching a tv with the sound off...what the fuck???
This is nearly as bad as those busy bee fathers who are "made" to take a parental day and you hear them talking business on their mobile phones whilst their kids look completely bored out of their wits..sad sad little men!
I was hoping there may have been something a wee bit more special with my last day as a 3 something.But all I got was a huge bill from TFF and a reminder to pay the telenor mobile bill.
Gotta get out of the rat race,
áyé
how many live in the past? How many think of their future? It's pretty correct in saying that you can't make the hands move forward, you can watch them moving past, so your best bets living in the present and to wait and see whats coming around the next corner, without guessing?
Just a thought..
So, work is work.Frightening prospect to think that you spend more time with the people you work with than the people you love at home or friends and family, and yet you hardly know them.Or maybe not. 40 hours a week working. Depends on how late you stay up and what you do with your time.Then of course you have the weekends..suppose it evens out. However, you still spend a lot of time with people that you hardly know, (there are exceptions to this rule of course..)
And for everyday that goes past I convince myself more and more that TV has become the Babylon Whore of our civilisation and you'd have to be very naiv if you didn't understand that your being controlled to what your watching and how your thought patterns are being guided.
Throw the frikken babysitter out and breathe! You stop reasonable sense and thinking.
In hindsight I remember the major xmas sales were all based on TV's, lcd or plasma.42 inch of Big brother or O.C. Ok, maybe there is a time and a place for just switching into veggie state, but that has become abused and now we struggle to get out of it.I'm sounding old.Oh dear.
I laughed today as I walked through Göteborg listening and thinking , " ah, the sounds of Gbg" when it fact it was the sounds of amplified Peruvians playing "smoke on the water" on pan pipes, the sound echoing throughout the lower quarters..frikken dreadful
And on the otherside a new shop was being built and modified by some Polish workers who funnily enough decided to grind some girders in the polak way, which is to say the metal shards spraying all over passers-by..Hilarious.So you had Power pan pipes mixed with Grinder and a stage show from Wasp..Nobody of course would have noticed if there had been a TV switched on and hanging in the middle of the square..
I heard a comedian once say that wars would never have been fought if they'd flown helicopters over the troops with TV's as everybody would have stopped and watched TV.Doesn't matter where you are nowadays, they're all switched on, even in clothes shops.
And the worst of course, well it has to be the people who buy a gym card , put on their nano and run on a running machine indoors watching a tv with the sound off...what the fuck???
This is nearly as bad as those busy bee fathers who are "made" to take a parental day and you hear them talking business on their mobile phones whilst their kids look completely bored out of their wits..sad sad little men!
I was hoping there may have been something a wee bit more special with my last day as a 3 something.But all I got was a huge bill from TFF and a reminder to pay the telenor mobile bill.
Gotta get out of the rat race,
áyé
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
"Does your conscious bother U"...
Well, frankly yes it does..
Had to stay at home having finally realised that it just isn't normal to have a headache for four days in a row. So I felt rest may cure the problem but it didn't. I am so tired of feeling under the weather and in classic Grumpy fashion I put the entire blame on this country and the Chernoybl effect! I've never been so susceptible to disease in my life.
Beautiful warm weather for the time of year had me deciding to walk to the Capio Axess as I knew I'd be there for a while, so book in hand off I went.
Suffice to say the book is finished and if you enjoy a good book I can recommend "The Alchemist" by Paulo Coelho which was in turn recommended to me by someone who lives to the content already.
When I turned the last page I realised that the lifetime of this blog is only two days before it gets shut down. As you have already read its "Turn the page" on the 16th and the blogs final chapter, which has been a very important one for me, will be closed. Not sure for how long but I have received some positive feedback and I also realise I have some unfinished stories but they will have to wait and / or be replaced by new adventures.
The three hour wait finally ended up with no specific answers to what was, to be fair, a non specific problem.I didn't really expect a catscan to look for a tumour the size of a basketball.
I was stupid enough to mention that I had played the previous weekend which isn't very sensible.The Doc wasn't the friendliest which would have been nice having waited so long..
Anyway,350 kronks later and I'm stacked with Citadon and Volteraine, a speedball mix I'm informed I can mix.The old RED Triangle boxes now disused by the state.
(By the way, The Police are playing the Globe, Stockholm and if you wanna listen to the best rim shot drummer go and listen...Copeland is the man for rimshots and I don't mean toilet jokes!)
So , to end on Mr Cohen,
So were drinking and were dancing
And the band is really happening
And the johnny walker wisdom running high
And my very sweet companion
Shes the angel of compassion
And shes rubbing half the world against her thigh
Every drinker every dancer
Lifts a happy face to thank her
And the fiddler fiddles something so sublime
All the women tear their blouses off
The men they dance on the polka-dots
And its partner found and partner lost
And its hell to pay when the fiddler stops
I loved you when our love was blessed
And I love you now theres nothing left
But sorrow and a sense of overtime
And I miss you since the place got wrecked
By the winds of change and the weeds of sex
Looks like freedom but it feels like death
It something in betwen, I guess
Its closing time.............
Had to stay at home having finally realised that it just isn't normal to have a headache for four days in a row. So I felt rest may cure the problem but it didn't. I am so tired of feeling under the weather and in classic Grumpy fashion I put the entire blame on this country and the Chernoybl effect! I've never been so susceptible to disease in my life.
Beautiful warm weather for the time of year had me deciding to walk to the Capio Axess as I knew I'd be there for a while, so book in hand off I went.
Suffice to say the book is finished and if you enjoy a good book I can recommend "The Alchemist" by Paulo Coelho which was in turn recommended to me by someone who lives to the content already.
When I turned the last page I realised that the lifetime of this blog is only two days before it gets shut down. As you have already read its "Turn the page" on the 16th and the blogs final chapter, which has been a very important one for me, will be closed. Not sure for how long but I have received some positive feedback and I also realise I have some unfinished stories but they will have to wait and / or be replaced by new adventures.
The three hour wait finally ended up with no specific answers to what was, to be fair, a non specific problem.I didn't really expect a catscan to look for a tumour the size of a basketball.
I was stupid enough to mention that I had played the previous weekend which isn't very sensible.The Doc wasn't the friendliest which would have been nice having waited so long..
Anyway,350 kronks later and I'm stacked with Citadon and Volteraine, a speedball mix I'm informed I can mix.The old RED Triangle boxes now disused by the state.
(By the way, The Police are playing the Globe, Stockholm and if you wanna listen to the best rim shot drummer go and listen...Copeland is the man for rimshots and I don't mean toilet jokes!)
So , to end on Mr Cohen,
So were drinking and were dancing
And the band is really happening
And the johnny walker wisdom running high
And my very sweet companion
Shes the angel of compassion
And shes rubbing half the world against her thigh
Every drinker every dancer
Lifts a happy face to thank her
And the fiddler fiddles something so sublime
All the women tear their blouses off
The men they dance on the polka-dots
And its partner found and partner lost
And its hell to pay when the fiddler stops
I loved you when our love was blessed
And I love you now theres nothing left
But sorrow and a sense of overtime
And I miss you since the place got wrecked
By the winds of change and the weeds of sex
Looks like freedom but it feels like death
It something in betwen, I guess
Its closing time.............
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
The General never sleeps...
..but he wish he bloody could!
02.11 and it's tuesday morning, way too much going on up the grey cells..
patterns of play from 2003 with the national side, to blitz or not to blitz, edges, 6 meter zones, leeching bla bla bla leave me alone!!!
..and then the sudden impulse to read the entire story of the Manhatten Project from the ties between the infamous Marie Curie to Robert Oppenhemier..then I just had to look at the pictures of the bombs "fat boy" and "little Boy"...
Last night I awoke at 04.30 with nightmares, suddenly had the front cover of the worst film ever made "The hills have eyes" on my mind and now this..doesn't bode well.
To make matters even more interesting I recieved a package from my mother today which was basically a packet of chocolate eggs, a solid chocolate calender from Thorntons and two wee packets of chocolate white buttons..My mother still hasn't realised that I'm trying to cut back on chocolate but it has been in her backbone still I was a wee laddie to give me chocolate on my birthday.So thats what I got. Shame she didn't pack any balloons...
and of course I've started on the chocolate and its 02.17...
áyé
02.11 and it's tuesday morning, way too much going on up the grey cells..
patterns of play from 2003 with the national side, to blitz or not to blitz, edges, 6 meter zones, leeching bla bla bla leave me alone!!!
..and then the sudden impulse to read the entire story of the Manhatten Project from the ties between the infamous Marie Curie to Robert Oppenhemier..then I just had to look at the pictures of the bombs "fat boy" and "little Boy"...
Last night I awoke at 04.30 with nightmares, suddenly had the front cover of the worst film ever made "The hills have eyes" on my mind and now this..doesn't bode well.
To make matters even more interesting I recieved a package from my mother today which was basically a packet of chocolate eggs, a solid chocolate calender from Thorntons and two wee packets of chocolate white buttons..My mother still hasn't realised that I'm trying to cut back on chocolate but it has been in her backbone still I was a wee laddie to give me chocolate on my birthday.So thats what I got. Shame she didn't pack any balloons...
and of course I've started on the chocolate and its 02.17...
áyé
Monday, March 12, 2007
First day of Spring?
Well it felt like it today and for the first time the moods of winter darkness disappeared to a brighter mood all around. Due to the amount of freon on the planet we still don't know if its not gonna be fashionable for snow in april, but for now you would swear it was spring, at last.
Last week seemed to be the longest week ever but today just sped by, heading towards my impending date of conception of course where nothing is planned.And why should it be, middle of the month and basically a hypocrisy to celebrate after all I never celebrate the others.
What has been planned is the 3 day tour of London to play the London Welsh. With a player troop of 24 from Sweden, 1 from France and 4 who are based in London it will be something to remember. Unfortunately our ever faithful team Manager can't make it due to his mother turning the 70 mark so I'm not only in charge of the battle but also the planning of the trip. So far so good anyway, with an entire guesthouse booked for Team Sweden Rugby (no other guests..) and the flights already booked as well. Our South African capped coach will be coming in to reaffirm what forward play is all about and I will be dealing with the backs again.There is a lot of work and planning to be done in a very short time but I'm sure the trip will do us a lot of good and of course will solidify the team for our next two tests.
There is no doubt that it is a privilege to be involved with such a squad of players who work hard to retain their position, not only through their technical skill but also their strength in character and ability to be a team player.It's not always plain sailing and sometimes you have to have respect for someone and not necessary like someone in close quarters but still have the same goal.
I'm on RICE now again, *suck*
R est
I ce
C ompression
E levation
The left hamstring is basically pulled or torn and there is no miracle treatment apart from R I C E.Worst part is that even stretching isn't the way to go. Looks like the "Gas" may be getting too much for the rest to keep up, but I'm sure a course of Tai Chi or Yoga would help, just not now..
Talking of injuries, a friends knee got swollen to hell on saturday and very hot so just to ensure she would be better she decided to go shopping on the sunday..Amazing...I had to meet up and supply the Volteraine perscription drugs AND hang around as she did her shopping..sometimes the quest for the ultimate top or shoes seems too much.
áyé
Last week seemed to be the longest week ever but today just sped by, heading towards my impending date of conception of course where nothing is planned.And why should it be, middle of the month and basically a hypocrisy to celebrate after all I never celebrate the others.
What has been planned is the 3 day tour of London to play the London Welsh. With a player troop of 24 from Sweden, 1 from France and 4 who are based in London it will be something to remember. Unfortunately our ever faithful team Manager can't make it due to his mother turning the 70 mark so I'm not only in charge of the battle but also the planning of the trip. So far so good anyway, with an entire guesthouse booked for Team Sweden Rugby (no other guests..) and the flights already booked as well. Our South African capped coach will be coming in to reaffirm what forward play is all about and I will be dealing with the backs again.There is a lot of work and planning to be done in a very short time but I'm sure the trip will do us a lot of good and of course will solidify the team for our next two tests.
There is no doubt that it is a privilege to be involved with such a squad of players who work hard to retain their position, not only through their technical skill but also their strength in character and ability to be a team player.It's not always plain sailing and sometimes you have to have respect for someone and not necessary like someone in close quarters but still have the same goal.
I'm on RICE now again, *suck*
R est
I ce
C ompression
E levation
The left hamstring is basically pulled or torn and there is no miracle treatment apart from R I C E.Worst part is that even stretching isn't the way to go. Looks like the "Gas" may be getting too much for the rest to keep up, but I'm sure a course of Tai Chi or Yoga would help, just not now..
Talking of injuries, a friends knee got swollen to hell on saturday and very hot so just to ensure she would be better she decided to go shopping on the sunday..Amazing...I had to meet up and supply the Volteraine perscription drugs AND hang around as she did her shopping..sometimes the quest for the ultimate top or shoes seems too much.
áyé
Weekend..ends
Well there goes another weekend and it's been busy.
Since 6 weeks ago I've had to try and sort out a medial ligament and pulled hamstring and saturday I put the old frame to the test and went to touch. It was a great run out and despite pulling the hammy on the first "Gas" I survived the 2 hours.
To my disappointment I'm now having severe difficulties walking downstairs, which generally means an anterior cruciate ligament problem as opposed to a medial ligament.
Having had two operations on the right knee for "popping on a step" I'm kinda dismayed that the left is now starting to play up.Gonna have to work the rehab to survive.yeye..whatever ;-\
Talking of Mr Gas, the old liquor "Bögar" hit the colours on saturday night, one after the other from Peach to Dumle, kalua to Loppolia(??) and got Nostaligic over some Copenhagen 7's 9 years ago where groups of people sat in a circle smoking Jamaicas finest and ended up in a narko's with plastic bottles being thrown at the roof, deep heat being applied in a lassies hot pants, toothpaste and shampoo wars at 04 in the morning, people believing they were insects and "buzzing" over everyone and of course last but not least the changing famous six-pack becoming shitpack (due to skidmarks) and going down in the legend books for doing a 3-kamp with the infamous "Speed Dragon ladies...more than enough said...Good times and it now does seem like a long way away..
Saturday and sunday have been days in the pub with rugby filling the agenda and 6 nations.
Summary, well Scotland can feel proud they nearly beat Ireland and managed to just about kill O'Gara in the process who got such a headlock he went unconscious at the bottom of a ruck!
Italy beat the Welsh in a match that will be remembered by the referee being English..
England who I tipped would beat the French did so in an entertaining match.
Weekend has also had some serious meetings which will hopefully come good and news will be revealed if a certain contact pushes thru.
As I said it's time to turn the page and my time is coming real quick and the pathways are being laid down slowly and surely with contracts and some new direction. All very positive and adventurous which has given me some new optimism.
Rugby live starts in two weeks with the trip to London.Flying out early friday morning we meet our biggest challenge with the strongest squad turning out. A match plan is finalised called S.S.R.s and all the documentation has to be done before we arrive.It is the accumulation of two seasons of National work and we shall hopefully get the performance against London Welsh that we can take onwards and keep for 2007.This will also include defensive patterns which will be top of the list at 14.00 on the 24th.
So, basically no time for planning anything for friday.Too much work to do and to be honest there seems to more hype from others about my impending death than myself.
Last but not least , a letter received this evening also reminds me of another pathway that hopefully will be followed soon, or no. Basically Amazing Grace, which is apt considering the result this weekend.
áyé
Since 6 weeks ago I've had to try and sort out a medial ligament and pulled hamstring and saturday I put the old frame to the test and went to touch. It was a great run out and despite pulling the hammy on the first "Gas" I survived the 2 hours.
To my disappointment I'm now having severe difficulties walking downstairs, which generally means an anterior cruciate ligament problem as opposed to a medial ligament.
Having had two operations on the right knee for "popping on a step" I'm kinda dismayed that the left is now starting to play up.Gonna have to work the rehab to survive.yeye..whatever ;-\
Talking of Mr Gas, the old liquor "Bögar" hit the colours on saturday night, one after the other from Peach to Dumle, kalua to Loppolia(??) and got Nostaligic over some Copenhagen 7's 9 years ago where groups of people sat in a circle smoking Jamaicas finest and ended up in a narko's with plastic bottles being thrown at the roof, deep heat being applied in a lassies hot pants, toothpaste and shampoo wars at 04 in the morning, people believing they were insects and "buzzing" over everyone and of course last but not least the changing famous six-pack becoming shitpack (due to skidmarks) and going down in the legend books for doing a 3-kamp with the infamous "Speed Dragon ladies...more than enough said...Good times and it now does seem like a long way away..
Saturday and sunday have been days in the pub with rugby filling the agenda and 6 nations.
Summary, well Scotland can feel proud they nearly beat Ireland and managed to just about kill O'Gara in the process who got such a headlock he went unconscious at the bottom of a ruck!
Italy beat the Welsh in a match that will be remembered by the referee being English..
England who I tipped would beat the French did so in an entertaining match.
Weekend has also had some serious meetings which will hopefully come good and news will be revealed if a certain contact pushes thru.
As I said it's time to turn the page and my time is coming real quick and the pathways are being laid down slowly and surely with contracts and some new direction. All very positive and adventurous which has given me some new optimism.
Rugby live starts in two weeks with the trip to London.Flying out early friday morning we meet our biggest challenge with the strongest squad turning out. A match plan is finalised called S.S.R.s and all the documentation has to be done before we arrive.It is the accumulation of two seasons of National work and we shall hopefully get the performance against London Welsh that we can take onwards and keep for 2007.This will also include defensive patterns which will be top of the list at 14.00 on the 24th.
So, basically no time for planning anything for friday.Too much work to do and to be honest there seems to more hype from others about my impending death than myself.
Last but not least , a letter received this evening also reminds me of another pathway that hopefully will be followed soon, or no. Basically Amazing Grace, which is apt considering the result this weekend.
áyé
Friday, March 9, 2007
IWD
Friday evening and its 21.51.Masi time, packet of Right ultra and the laptop.
Been a long week.
Conversation today at work covered "International Womans Day"...My working partner admitted to have taken out (read forced..) his girlfriend out to celebrate IWD.
I laughed. I'd discussed this subject the previous day with another proud celebrator of IWD.
I asked;
"so, when is International Mens day"?
to which I got,
"Every other day!"
Well this made me ponder and pose the question,
"so your celebrating a day that we "men" have decided to patronise you with, by actually giving you one day in the year with a title...and that is a celebration?"...
I mean, somebody MUST be taking the piss or what??
Sweden has always appeared to be a leading country of the world when it comes to womans equality.It is also the very same country that invented the male Metrosexual and the first official mens makeup store was opened in Malmö. Enough said on that subject.
Even the smell of mens sports dressing rooms have changed from liniment to hair gel and when guys start looking for a socket in the wall for their journeyman hairdryer..bloody hell
But makeup..shaving yourself downstairs and keeping trim, ok.But Makeup.
And the worst thing about it is that I hear the local lassies arguing the point that its okay if a man takes care of himself..."makeup"..err...NO!!! NO!! No!!
People seem to have also forgotten the biggest failure EVER made by H&M..remember the Man Skirt...yes indeed, And I will admit to actually knowing a rather large Rugby player who was also a web designer mention that he wore one to work....
SKIRTS, MAKEUP and a travelbag for HAIRSTYLE!! I reckon I now understand International womans day. We haven't actually given them a day at all, its for all the metrosexuals to get their kit on and show off their feminism..
However, despite living in a country where its quite obvious who wears the long pants it is released now and again in the papers that Swedish woman do in fact have a preference for Biker types, builders and basically good old fashioned men.So basically still enjoy a bit of sweat and rough, thank frikk for that!Otherwise I'd be down to Top shop for pop socks, a mini and then some kanebo mascara and spot remover...
Changing the subject but keeping line with the abuse, tomorrow evening is possibly the best summary of the attitude and culture (to generalise of course now that Bingo Lotto has gone down the tubes..) as its the Melodifestival final!!!
That's right, millions of people will be sitting infront of Shlagerpop shite and making a huge effort to make a memory of it. The front of the newspapers have hyped up this day of mourning for the past months, pages and pages on shit whilst countries around the world have civil wars and Iran announce they're pleased about their nuclear possibilities..We get "Uggla humiliated" on the front page or "Linda can't sing but has huge breasts"..
Right there, right now.A tradition.
Like Kalle Anka every year at 15.00 on christmas day we have the tradition of Melodifestival finalen.
So for Metrosexuals tomorrow is the ultimate. Shlager, skirts and makeup and a huge party to show off their latest hair style and designer mens bra...
jeez
áyé
Been a long week.
Conversation today at work covered "International Womans Day"...My working partner admitted to have taken out (read forced..) his girlfriend out to celebrate IWD.
I laughed. I'd discussed this subject the previous day with another proud celebrator of IWD.
I asked;
"so, when is International Mens day"?
to which I got,
"Every other day!"
Well this made me ponder and pose the question,
"so your celebrating a day that we "men" have decided to patronise you with, by actually giving you one day in the year with a title...and that is a celebration?"...
I mean, somebody MUST be taking the piss or what??
Sweden has always appeared to be a leading country of the world when it comes to womans equality.It is also the very same country that invented the male Metrosexual and the first official mens makeup store was opened in Malmö. Enough said on that subject.
Even the smell of mens sports dressing rooms have changed from liniment to hair gel and when guys start looking for a socket in the wall for their journeyman hairdryer..bloody hell
But makeup..shaving yourself downstairs and keeping trim, ok.But Makeup.
And the worst thing about it is that I hear the local lassies arguing the point that its okay if a man takes care of himself..."makeup"..err...NO!!! NO!! No!!
People seem to have also forgotten the biggest failure EVER made by H&M..remember the Man Skirt...yes indeed, And I will admit to actually knowing a rather large Rugby player who was also a web designer mention that he wore one to work....
SKIRTS, MAKEUP and a travelbag for HAIRSTYLE!! I reckon I now understand International womans day. We haven't actually given them a day at all, its for all the metrosexuals to get their kit on and show off their feminism..
However, despite living in a country where its quite obvious who wears the long pants it is released now and again in the papers that Swedish woman do in fact have a preference for Biker types, builders and basically good old fashioned men.So basically still enjoy a bit of sweat and rough, thank frikk for that!Otherwise I'd be down to Top shop for pop socks, a mini and then some kanebo mascara and spot remover...
Changing the subject but keeping line with the abuse, tomorrow evening is possibly the best summary of the attitude and culture (to generalise of course now that Bingo Lotto has gone down the tubes..) as its the Melodifestival final!!!
That's right, millions of people will be sitting infront of Shlagerpop shite and making a huge effort to make a memory of it. The front of the newspapers have hyped up this day of mourning for the past months, pages and pages on shit whilst countries around the world have civil wars and Iran announce they're pleased about their nuclear possibilities..We get "Uggla humiliated" on the front page or "Linda can't sing but has huge breasts"..
Right there, right now.A tradition.
Like Kalle Anka every year at 15.00 on christmas day we have the tradition of Melodifestival finalen.
So for Metrosexuals tomorrow is the ultimate. Shlager, skirts and makeup and a huge party to show off their latest hair style and designer mens bra...
jeez
áyé
Thursday, March 8, 2007
Pet Hate and perverts...snippet
For years and years I've preached the same thing;
"cover your mouth when you yawn"
"cover your mouth!!!"
"cover your frikken MOUTH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
but no.They just keep yawning and showing their tonsils..The entire frikken race..it must be the farmer upbringing and I hate it! How hard can it be????
However, the upside has now being realised.Sure, a guy opening his gullet as wide as he can is a frikken slob and can swallow flys, but now lets concentrate on the lassies...
Yes indeed, its a perverts paradise..thousands of girrrrrrrrrls everyday being "Good girls" and opening wide..marvelous for the fantasy.
It's become a favorite like the "Please swallow that banana" preversion we all love, (girls that I know and in my vicinity spoil the trick by breaking the banana into pieces before eating simply to ruin my slavering around them..hihi)
So young 'uns, gawp wide away...open wide...good girl...there u go....
I've asked for too long, now I think I'll start enjoying :-)
áyé
"cover your mouth when you yawn"
"cover your mouth!!!"
"cover your frikken MOUTH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
but no.They just keep yawning and showing their tonsils..The entire frikken race..it must be the farmer upbringing and I hate it! How hard can it be????
However, the upside has now being realised.Sure, a guy opening his gullet as wide as he can is a frikken slob and can swallow flys, but now lets concentrate on the lassies...
Yes indeed, its a perverts paradise..thousands of girrrrrrrrrls everyday being "Good girls" and opening wide..marvelous for the fantasy.
It's become a favorite like the "Please swallow that banana" preversion we all love, (girls that I know and in my vicinity spoil the trick by breaking the banana into pieces before eating simply to ruin my slavering around them..hihi)
So young 'uns, gawp wide away...open wide...good girl...there u go....
I've asked for too long, now I think I'll start enjoying :-)
áyé
The next stage
Well half way there.
Any regrets.No.
Any plans. Yes indeed.
The past months have really been a time to reflect on a lot of things. With 8 days to the dreaded day when I can no longer like Porches without been told I'm having a crisis or indeed wear clothes that I enjoy without a similar remark will be the next tens years.
Sad but true but too many have reached their comfort zone and have plateaued way too early.
It's not me that's pathetic, its them.It's just that society has made them into branded cattle and they out number the few that wont let sleeping dogs lie...and die.
The "turn the page" Chronicles are basically being written so I can start erasing the cache memory and start afresh with new adventures, as I've realised they have been less.
The comfort zone is so easy and comfortable to accept. But before you know it you wake up and realise your too old to do that real adventure, not just hotels and money.
I have never understood the concept of study till your 25, get a job till your 65 and by that time you have saved up enough money to retire and enjoy a nice time in Blackpool.
Christ, if your a bloke your lucky to have 10 years left...
Nope. I want to have "turn the page" Chronicles after the next ten years so I can countdown, the only difference being that perhaps they're not as dramatic as I don't think I could maintain that level of drama.And of course there are only 16 of many many more.But as I said, out of the comfort zone and some new adventures are on the way. To ensure that I will have to make sacrifices and decisions based on gut feeling and see where the pathway leads.
I have responsibility's now that I didn't have back then and they will be taken into account. At the end of the day your your own person though and you have to take those pathways or take the easy way out and get in the q for the society brand mark.
Which one will you choose?
áyé
Any regrets.No.
Any plans. Yes indeed.
The past months have really been a time to reflect on a lot of things. With 8 days to the dreaded day when I can no longer like Porches without been told I'm having a crisis or indeed wear clothes that I enjoy without a similar remark will be the next tens years.
Sad but true but too many have reached their comfort zone and have plateaued way too early.
It's not me that's pathetic, its them.It's just that society has made them into branded cattle and they out number the few that wont let sleeping dogs lie...and die.
The "turn the page" Chronicles are basically being written so I can start erasing the cache memory and start afresh with new adventures, as I've realised they have been less.
The comfort zone is so easy and comfortable to accept. But before you know it you wake up and realise your too old to do that real adventure, not just hotels and money.
I have never understood the concept of study till your 25, get a job till your 65 and by that time you have saved up enough money to retire and enjoy a nice time in Blackpool.
Christ, if your a bloke your lucky to have 10 years left...
Nope. I want to have "turn the page" Chronicles after the next ten years so I can countdown, the only difference being that perhaps they're not as dramatic as I don't think I could maintain that level of drama.And of course there are only 16 of many many more.But as I said, out of the comfort zone and some new adventures are on the way. To ensure that I will have to make sacrifices and decisions based on gut feeling and see where the pathway leads.
I have responsibility's now that I didn't have back then and they will be taken into account. At the end of the day your your own person though and you have to take those pathways or take the easy way out and get in the q for the society brand mark.
Which one will you choose?
áyé
Prt 2, burns, eviction, reptiles and the judge...8 of 16
So there I was on crutches with my mate.
The car was buggered and so was my right foot. I had 5 boxes of Temgesic morphin based tablets and enough bandages and water to replace the gauze and bandages on my foot for the months ahead.It would be painful, as every time I moved the skin ripped and the blisters were like gold balls..
I went back to my pad only to be approached by the head of the bostadsförenningen. The girl who I rented the flat from with a second hand contract had been evicted as she hadn't paid rent for several months..despite receiving money from me every month..I had to move today.On crutches. This guy was a bastard and one day I will get my revenge.Lofas and shirts poof.
So several of my mates came around and loaded up the land rover with my stuff which was quickly packed as I'd lived out of a booze cabinet due to the consumption of "Drivers" and single out life.
I was loaned my mates flat as he lived with his girlfriend.The only question was if I had a problem with reptiles..Pourquoi?
Well, you see K* had a long history of importing and selling illegal reptiles.
His flat was 45q/m and was basically a strong hold of cages in glass and steel filled with everything from plate spiders to cobras to weirdo reptiles I don't even know the name of. He had built a large cage for two south american animals that had bear in their name.They resembled Gremlins and he warned me that they were very very strong and also made strange singing noises at all hours...fuck me, and I'm sleeping here I thought...
There is a rumour that French Foreign Legion soldiers never sleep.To ensure this in basic training the sergeants go around and bang the butt of a rifle into their face if they do. I have a simpler method to maintain the eye open at all times..Sleep in a reptile house...
And they did sing...they sounded like amplified cats when they cuddle up on your chest and murr..but this was frightening..Cute singing Gremlins who were very very strong...and I couldn't outrun a cockroach on these crutches...
I hung out with K* but it became too much when I entered the world of others who imported illegal snakes and assorted reptiles. The Alligator Snappers we're the final straw and I believe the local bike club released two into the local river where they could survive..Instead of a description I suggest you google Alligator Snappers and picture them in a tank in a dark tank in a bedroom....
That summer was basically morphine, gauze, pain and dead skin. It took around two months to grow back.No training meant basically coaching on crutches and then without crutches.
Homeless, burns, no car with no insurance, single, no ability to train and no job. It felt like the dark ages.And of course no family within a couple of thousand miles.
But I did get some serious religious thoughts and believed that a God had given me a chance.
Stranger in a strange land indeed..
The court case turned out as a joke. I still have the paperwork.
First of all, they said I fell asleep at the wheel, hence no brake marks..(The police had drawn in brake marks in their own papers!)
Remember the Englishman? He witnessed that I was so aggressive that I tried to run away from the scene of the crime..(the fire brigade had to cut me out!)
Despite the witness of the cyclists they still maintained that I had fallen asleep and could see no other reason why I veered right so quickly?? At the same time the Police put the witness forward that stated that the two cyclists had come up to the car, looked in and then gone away from the scene having seen that I was alive..
I had official paperwork from specialists stating that with 2.4 in the blood and with the shock of the burns that could not have come from the car, I was basically trying to save my life subconsciously.. They felt it was a normal thing to do under such circumstances.
Last but not least the Judge started preaching about blackouts and over consumption of booze.
I just thought back to all the midsummer's and times I'd watched Swedes doing their party trick of "drink till you drop" and basically told him so.
"Whatever you say or think, I walked home with no intention to drive! I rest my case!!"
And..so did he. 3 months, öppen anställt during the summer.
Tackarrrrrrrrrr.........
Next up on turn the page, a past tense, "Sweden prison, better than Public school"
áyé
The car was buggered and so was my right foot. I had 5 boxes of Temgesic morphin based tablets and enough bandages and water to replace the gauze and bandages on my foot for the months ahead.It would be painful, as every time I moved the skin ripped and the blisters were like gold balls..
I went back to my pad only to be approached by the head of the bostadsförenningen. The girl who I rented the flat from with a second hand contract had been evicted as she hadn't paid rent for several months..despite receiving money from me every month..I had to move today.On crutches. This guy was a bastard and one day I will get my revenge.Lofas and shirts poof.
So several of my mates came around and loaded up the land rover with my stuff which was quickly packed as I'd lived out of a booze cabinet due to the consumption of "Drivers" and single out life.
I was loaned my mates flat as he lived with his girlfriend.The only question was if I had a problem with reptiles..Pourquoi?
Well, you see K* had a long history of importing and selling illegal reptiles.
His flat was 45q/m and was basically a strong hold of cages in glass and steel filled with everything from plate spiders to cobras to weirdo reptiles I don't even know the name of. He had built a large cage for two south american animals that had bear in their name.They resembled Gremlins and he warned me that they were very very strong and also made strange singing noises at all hours...fuck me, and I'm sleeping here I thought...
There is a rumour that French Foreign Legion soldiers never sleep.To ensure this in basic training the sergeants go around and bang the butt of a rifle into their face if they do. I have a simpler method to maintain the eye open at all times..Sleep in a reptile house...
And they did sing...they sounded like amplified cats when they cuddle up on your chest and murr..but this was frightening..Cute singing Gremlins who were very very strong...and I couldn't outrun a cockroach on these crutches...
I hung out with K* but it became too much when I entered the world of others who imported illegal snakes and assorted reptiles. The Alligator Snappers we're the final straw and I believe the local bike club released two into the local river where they could survive..Instead of a description I suggest you google Alligator Snappers and picture them in a tank in a dark tank in a bedroom....
That summer was basically morphine, gauze, pain and dead skin. It took around two months to grow back.No training meant basically coaching on crutches and then without crutches.
Homeless, burns, no car with no insurance, single, no ability to train and no job. It felt like the dark ages.And of course no family within a couple of thousand miles.
But I did get some serious religious thoughts and believed that a God had given me a chance.
Stranger in a strange land indeed..
The court case turned out as a joke. I still have the paperwork.
First of all, they said I fell asleep at the wheel, hence no brake marks..(The police had drawn in brake marks in their own papers!)
Remember the Englishman? He witnessed that I was so aggressive that I tried to run away from the scene of the crime..(the fire brigade had to cut me out!)
Despite the witness of the cyclists they still maintained that I had fallen asleep and could see no other reason why I veered right so quickly?? At the same time the Police put the witness forward that stated that the two cyclists had come up to the car, looked in and then gone away from the scene having seen that I was alive..
I had official paperwork from specialists stating that with 2.4 in the blood and with the shock of the burns that could not have come from the car, I was basically trying to save my life subconsciously.. They felt it was a normal thing to do under such circumstances.
Last but not least the Judge started preaching about blackouts and over consumption of booze.
I just thought back to all the midsummer's and times I'd watched Swedes doing their party trick of "drink till you drop" and basically told him so.
"Whatever you say or think, I walked home with no intention to drive! I rest my case!!"
And..so did he. 3 months, öppen anställt during the summer.
Tackarrrrrrrrrr.........
Next up on turn the page, a past tense, "Sweden prison, better than Public school"
áyé
turn the page 7 of 16..Burns unit and 999(pt 1 of 2)
Its past tense 7.
I was single for the first time in a long time and it had been my choice. But due to the culture shock had become a big fan of Tequila and Orange juice, what my friend deemed call a "Driver.."
So we would head out monday to monday on the town and as I worked as a Bar Manager we had VIP to all the late night after works. Most of the 7 months are now like a scene from Excaliber but one night would change my life and bring God into the picture.
I was once again out at Club Dacke. My mate worked there and some of the rugby lads and gals went there and simply got down and out on Ginbyme's and Drivers. I remember it was a night were I dodged the overhead spots as I had finally realised I was loosing my hair..so dancing it wasn't to be..
I remember walking home, at least 2 kms back to my bachelor pad which was an extremely cool top flat in a house which had a tower on the side with stairs that led up to my top floor flat.
Once home I switched on the cooker and put some olive oil in the cast iron frying pan with the idea of making some food.
All of a sudden I realised I'd dropped and spilled the contents of the frying pan onto my right foot..Due to the amount of alcohol in my system I couldn't have reacted so fast but my first instinct was to call the ambulance as my foot was a red and brown colour.
I dialled "999" and waited...nothing
I dialled 999 and nothing again..Well I mean to say, there wouldn't be would there..
So I managed to squeeze on a pair of black leather shoes over the burns now feeling a pain on my top lip that was also burned.I ran down to my Golf Mk1 Gti and off I went, full speed to the hospital..
The rest comes from court case witnesses as its too vague for me.Apparently I had been driving like Shumaker when 2 cyclists had come out of nowhere, no stopping at stop sign and making me swerve right. Now, facts are facts , if I hadn't been that drunk I wouldn't have over reacted so quickly.
As it was the sharp right I took to miss the cyclists that were around 30 metres away took me over a large grass embankment, missing a tree by a metre and going into the front of a stone building at over 100km/h.I do remember hitting the brakes and shouting something like "ah shit..." before hearing a massive smashing sound and eating the windscreen, steering wheel and engine..
So, there I sat. Trapped in the car like a sardine in its tin but without a quick pull to get me out.
I was alive, delirious and scared. I couldn't get out.And I started worrying about fire...I started freaking out big time trying to get out..
At this point a woman poked her head in and said she had phoned the police and ambulance. And, maybe she could ask her husband to talk to me as he was ...English..
Now, keep in mind the situation I really didn't mean to be rude, but an Englishman wasn't exactly what I needed and he heard that, "get ti fukk ya frikken bastarr"...etc..
The fire brigade, ambulance and police arrived and all I remember were the jaws breaking the roof off and looking left to see somebody use a syringe on me...and that was that......
When I opened my eyes I saw a rather attractive nurse dressing my right foot. She said she was new and would have to leave as the stench of the burns were making her feel bad. I asked her if she knew what had happened, had I been in a taxi crash?She knew nothing.
I managed to make it to a phone on crutches and phoned a friend and asked if she could go around and see if my car was in the parking lot.It wasn't and at this point I had no recollection.
Two policemen turned up and informed me that I had been in a car accident and that I'd register a blood content of 2.4 per mil..I had no idea what I was doing in my car and was worried if anyone else was injured.No was the reply.
At this point I did what I really didn't want to do.I bought a packet of smokes and went out onto the roof to ponder.I hadn't smoked for three months and had instead started long distance cycling with a friend.But boy I remember draggin on that cigarette..
My best mate who had been working at Club Dacke turned up in his land rover and drove me first to the scene of the accident. It was frightening to see the track marks and black brake marks leading up to the stone wall, reminded me of "The time machine"..I realised then how lucky I had been.
Then we went off to where the car had been taken. It wasn't a car anymore. I felt sorry for it.Ironically the fuel injection system had already been nicked off it by the workshop boyz..
This was to be part one of a part two, as just as I thought things couldn't get worst, they did...
áyé
I was single for the first time in a long time and it had been my choice. But due to the culture shock had become a big fan of Tequila and Orange juice, what my friend deemed call a "Driver.."
So we would head out monday to monday on the town and as I worked as a Bar Manager we had VIP to all the late night after works. Most of the 7 months are now like a scene from Excaliber but one night would change my life and bring God into the picture.
I was once again out at Club Dacke. My mate worked there and some of the rugby lads and gals went there and simply got down and out on Ginbyme's and Drivers. I remember it was a night were I dodged the overhead spots as I had finally realised I was loosing my hair..so dancing it wasn't to be..
I remember walking home, at least 2 kms back to my bachelor pad which was an extremely cool top flat in a house which had a tower on the side with stairs that led up to my top floor flat.
Once home I switched on the cooker and put some olive oil in the cast iron frying pan with the idea of making some food.
All of a sudden I realised I'd dropped and spilled the contents of the frying pan onto my right foot..Due to the amount of alcohol in my system I couldn't have reacted so fast but my first instinct was to call the ambulance as my foot was a red and brown colour.
I dialled "999" and waited...nothing
I dialled 999 and nothing again..Well I mean to say, there wouldn't be would there..
So I managed to squeeze on a pair of black leather shoes over the burns now feeling a pain on my top lip that was also burned.I ran down to my Golf Mk1 Gti and off I went, full speed to the hospital..
The rest comes from court case witnesses as its too vague for me.Apparently I had been driving like Shumaker when 2 cyclists had come out of nowhere, no stopping at stop sign and making me swerve right. Now, facts are facts , if I hadn't been that drunk I wouldn't have over reacted so quickly.
As it was the sharp right I took to miss the cyclists that were around 30 metres away took me over a large grass embankment, missing a tree by a metre and going into the front of a stone building at over 100km/h.I do remember hitting the brakes and shouting something like "ah shit..." before hearing a massive smashing sound and eating the windscreen, steering wheel and engine..
So, there I sat. Trapped in the car like a sardine in its tin but without a quick pull to get me out.
I was alive, delirious and scared. I couldn't get out.And I started worrying about fire...I started freaking out big time trying to get out..
At this point a woman poked her head in and said she had phoned the police and ambulance. And, maybe she could ask her husband to talk to me as he was ...English..
Now, keep in mind the situation I really didn't mean to be rude, but an Englishman wasn't exactly what I needed and he heard that, "get ti fukk ya frikken bastarr"...etc..
The fire brigade, ambulance and police arrived and all I remember were the jaws breaking the roof off and looking left to see somebody use a syringe on me...and that was that......
When I opened my eyes I saw a rather attractive nurse dressing my right foot. She said she was new and would have to leave as the stench of the burns were making her feel bad. I asked her if she knew what had happened, had I been in a taxi crash?She knew nothing.
I managed to make it to a phone on crutches and phoned a friend and asked if she could go around and see if my car was in the parking lot.It wasn't and at this point I had no recollection.
Two policemen turned up and informed me that I had been in a car accident and that I'd register a blood content of 2.4 per mil..I had no idea what I was doing in my car and was worried if anyone else was injured.No was the reply.
At this point I did what I really didn't want to do.I bought a packet of smokes and went out onto the roof to ponder.I hadn't smoked for three months and had instead started long distance cycling with a friend.But boy I remember draggin on that cigarette..
My best mate who had been working at Club Dacke turned up in his land rover and drove me first to the scene of the accident. It was frightening to see the track marks and black brake marks leading up to the stone wall, reminded me of "The time machine"..I realised then how lucky I had been.
Then we went off to where the car had been taken. It wasn't a car anymore. I felt sorry for it.Ironically the fuel injection system had already been nicked off it by the workshop boyz..
This was to be part one of a part two, as just as I thought things couldn't get worst, they did...
áyé
Tuesday, March 6, 2007
Turn the page 6 of 16 Gbg - Newcastle..
Keeping on the boat theme we move a couple of girlfriends and years forwards.
This time I had booked a trip to Newcastle as my girlfriend had decided to study.Long distance relationships are as easy as Sudoko on magic mushrooms.
This time I was travelling with her best mate at that time. Everything started off well and we headed from Gbg via Norway and then into Gods Wrath, the North Sea.
I come from a family of fisherman , not sure if this is the reason as to why I'm never seasick or if its just my poor balance, but lets just say I'm happy whether or not its genetic or not.
For everything went Balder. Up and down, side to side, up and down...
The restaurants closed. People disappeared. I've never seen such an empty ship so early in the evening. I sat and ate a chocolate pudding and drank a Champis looking at the empty tables covered in food and drink that had fallen over. L* had gone to our berth (with window, never again would I face rum, sodomy and the lash..).
I went to the cabin and she lay there looking like the Green Goblin. She refused to move from her bunk. By this time I was laughing at the fact that you could count the air time the boat was getting on the up and then the seconds we were falling on the down. I had been out to look around at the boats and escape routes, this is always my routine on a boat.
You could feel the engines struggling and vibrating hard , it felt and sounded like the propellers were coming out of the water.
The worst (or best :-) feeling was when we were hit by the side at the same time we we're going up or down..it felt like we would simply capsize at any point.
All of sudden the Captain (or someone) made an announcement on the tannoy. I actually started wondering if this was it, the ultimate adventure, boats sinking and we're gonna have to save the woman and children first! and the band played on...
But no, we had turned around. The 1 hour forwards into Moby Dick territory had taken 3 hours to get back towards Norway. The North Sea had said no to our passage and it was luck that we weren't having to pay the ferryman with coins for our eyes! (dramatic huh!)
We returned to Gbg and were offered to stay over at Novotel for a night and then driven home or driven to Landvetter where a plane was made available to fly us to Newcastle .
L* stayed. She wouldn't test fate and get on a plane and was obviously shook up.
I had promised my girlfriend I would be there , and a promise is a promise. So tired but happy to be back on dry land I headed towards landvetter and made the trip.
No drama. Not sure how many times that its been the case that a boat has had to turn back.
One thing I will never forget though was the sheer power of the sea.
It treated the thousands of tons boat as if it was nothing.Just a paper cup.
Respect, 'cos if you don't you lose the fight.We threw in the towel thank God.
áyè
This time I had booked a trip to Newcastle as my girlfriend had decided to study.Long distance relationships are as easy as Sudoko on magic mushrooms.
This time I was travelling with her best mate at that time. Everything started off well and we headed from Gbg via Norway and then into Gods Wrath, the North Sea.
I come from a family of fisherman , not sure if this is the reason as to why I'm never seasick or if its just my poor balance, but lets just say I'm happy whether or not its genetic or not.
For everything went Balder. Up and down, side to side, up and down...
The restaurants closed. People disappeared. I've never seen such an empty ship so early in the evening. I sat and ate a chocolate pudding and drank a Champis looking at the empty tables covered in food and drink that had fallen over. L* had gone to our berth (with window, never again would I face rum, sodomy and the lash..).
I went to the cabin and she lay there looking like the Green Goblin. She refused to move from her bunk. By this time I was laughing at the fact that you could count the air time the boat was getting on the up and then the seconds we were falling on the down. I had been out to look around at the boats and escape routes, this is always my routine on a boat.
You could feel the engines struggling and vibrating hard , it felt and sounded like the propellers were coming out of the water.
The worst (or best :-) feeling was when we were hit by the side at the same time we we're going up or down..it felt like we would simply capsize at any point.
All of sudden the Captain (or someone) made an announcement on the tannoy. I actually started wondering if this was it, the ultimate adventure, boats sinking and we're gonna have to save the woman and children first! and the band played on...
But no, we had turned around. The 1 hour forwards into Moby Dick territory had taken 3 hours to get back towards Norway. The North Sea had said no to our passage and it was luck that we weren't having to pay the ferryman with coins for our eyes! (dramatic huh!)
We returned to Gbg and were offered to stay over at Novotel for a night and then driven home or driven to Landvetter where a plane was made available to fly us to Newcastle .
L* stayed. She wouldn't test fate and get on a plane and was obviously shook up.
I had promised my girlfriend I would be there , and a promise is a promise. So tired but happy to be back on dry land I headed towards landvetter and made the trip.
No drama. Not sure how many times that its been the case that a boat has had to turn back.
One thing I will never forget though was the sheer power of the sea.
It treated the thousands of tons boat as if it was nothing.Just a paper cup.
Respect, 'cos if you don't you lose the fight.We threw in the towel thank God.
áyè
turn the page 5 of 16 Edinburgh - Peking...err no..
Petrol head story. "Musselburgh to Uppsala"....
I've made the most insane decision of my life and planned to drive to Uppsala on a race tuned Yamaha 350 lc two stroke.Your not meant to ride more than 40 minutes on these headbangin' machines.
Evening before I notice the crankcase oilseals have busted so the engine is upside down on the garage floor and I've lifting the bottom of the block up to replace them the cheating way.
3 hours sleep as I have a long journey ahead to Harwich.It's the boat leaving and its a sunday morning, 0630 when the Allspeeds bark into life.I don't have much luggage but enough and off we go. To ensure I keep good time I have planned everything so I'll have at least two stops, lunch and basically rest the wrists as its a racing crouch.
After around an hour and I come to a stand still. Middle of nowhere, 0730. No petrol in the tank. *suck*..I seem to remember remaining optimistic, but thats probably Captain Efterklok thinking..I started pushing the bike and it started raining. It wasn't too long before I came to a petrol station , around 2 miles.I was so happy until I read the times;
monday to friday 0700-
saturday 0800-
sunday 0900-
NO!, NO!, NO!,NO! (get my point...)It was only to wait and hope the owner came sooner and bought my rush story.He came at 8.45. No mobile phones , no mp3s, no psp.Nope, just the sound of rain and the occasional car going past with the harsh sound of tyre to road.
Off I went again, making sure I'd mix the oil and fuel correctly (race bike, no oilpump).
It was wet.Really wet. I remember it was one of the only days in the history of the British Golf open that it rained 24 hours.And it wasn't drizzle, I was looking at the rain bounce through my visor and it seemed like 3 cm(Bounce is how far the rain bounces back up after its hit the road..your hoping for 0 bounce).I used a trick from the 40's in these conditions, cut a raw potato in half and rub the sap over the visor.Rain bounces off it like one of the new chemicals..
In this weather and on a 350 cc you tend to get over taken by everything including trucks that appear to spill their guts and try and suck you back in after they go past.It's no fun, but I had a boat to catch and an adventure I swore I wouldn't fail to finish!I drove to the inside line as the potato juice was gone and visibility to zero.Due to the petrol problem I couldn't stop apart for more, it was a 6 hour trip with 3 pitstops and I had covered myself with binbags from the garage.
I must have shut down.
Suddenly I had arrived and as I drove towards the boat to see the car q I suddenly had a policewoman waving at me frantically, I pulled in and took off my helmet only to hear the worst noise ever coming from the exhaust pipes.It had been too much for them and both had cracked.
Then I suddenly realised I had no air in my front tyre.No matter, I parked up on the boat and headed to my 4-berth shared cabin on deck "below humans" where the general talk is of Rum , sodomy and the lash!
I took off my racing leathers which were yellow and brown and very '70ish.Or as they say nowadays, very retro..
The rain had stained the colours onto my skin and I looked like a banana and chocolate chew bar.My fellow berth pirates looked in amazement as I starting thinking of excuses as to why they shouldn't rape me..
After a couple of hours of sleep as I was exhausted I went to find someone who could point me to a local workshop. I was allowed to remove my pipes and take them deep into the bowls of the ship and weld them back together.An interesting exercise when in the middle of the north sea.
By the time I'd welded and refitted them it was late.
Next day we landed in Gothenburg and I headed off with new optimism.It was october and I hadn't really considered the cold.The darkness came a lot sooner and I remembered what my friend had told me, that
"Moose are attracted to high pitch sounds in the dark"
So basically from Orebro to Uppsala I was in a permanent "shitting bricks" crouch as I stared into the pitch blackness with only a small headlight awaiting the sign of two eyes and 200 kilos of curious Moose..This was actually worst than the first part as it was a complete unknown and the darkness over extenuated the fear factor.But I kept going.
By the time I hit the outskirts of Uppsala everything seemed to have whitened up, but on reflection that was probably just the effect of streetlights after so many hours of darkness.
I'd made it. Sounds like a piss in the ocean, but the pride factor was there. For petrol heads to do such a tour of duty on a race tuned powerjetted elsie is a feat, and she made it as well.
áyé
I've made the most insane decision of my life and planned to drive to Uppsala on a race tuned Yamaha 350 lc two stroke.Your not meant to ride more than 40 minutes on these headbangin' machines.
Evening before I notice the crankcase oilseals have busted so the engine is upside down on the garage floor and I've lifting the bottom of the block up to replace them the cheating way.
3 hours sleep as I have a long journey ahead to Harwich.It's the boat leaving and its a sunday morning, 0630 when the Allspeeds bark into life.I don't have much luggage but enough and off we go. To ensure I keep good time I have planned everything so I'll have at least two stops, lunch and basically rest the wrists as its a racing crouch.
After around an hour and I come to a stand still. Middle of nowhere, 0730. No petrol in the tank. *suck*..I seem to remember remaining optimistic, but thats probably Captain Efterklok thinking..I started pushing the bike and it started raining. It wasn't too long before I came to a petrol station , around 2 miles.I was so happy until I read the times;
monday to friday 0700-
saturday 0800-
sunday 0900-
NO!, NO!, NO!,NO! (get my point...)It was only to wait and hope the owner came sooner and bought my rush story.He came at 8.45. No mobile phones , no mp3s, no psp.Nope, just the sound of rain and the occasional car going past with the harsh sound of tyre to road.
Off I went again, making sure I'd mix the oil and fuel correctly (race bike, no oilpump).
It was wet.Really wet. I remember it was one of the only days in the history of the British Golf open that it rained 24 hours.And it wasn't drizzle, I was looking at the rain bounce through my visor and it seemed like 3 cm(Bounce is how far the rain bounces back up after its hit the road..your hoping for 0 bounce).I used a trick from the 40's in these conditions, cut a raw potato in half and rub the sap over the visor.Rain bounces off it like one of the new chemicals..
In this weather and on a 350 cc you tend to get over taken by everything including trucks that appear to spill their guts and try and suck you back in after they go past.It's no fun, but I had a boat to catch and an adventure I swore I wouldn't fail to finish!I drove to the inside line as the potato juice was gone and visibility to zero.Due to the petrol problem I couldn't stop apart for more, it was a 6 hour trip with 3 pitstops and I had covered myself with binbags from the garage.
I must have shut down.
Suddenly I had arrived and as I drove towards the boat to see the car q I suddenly had a policewoman waving at me frantically, I pulled in and took off my helmet only to hear the worst noise ever coming from the exhaust pipes.It had been too much for them and both had cracked.
Then I suddenly realised I had no air in my front tyre.No matter, I parked up on the boat and headed to my 4-berth shared cabin on deck "below humans" where the general talk is of Rum , sodomy and the lash!
I took off my racing leathers which were yellow and brown and very '70ish.Or as they say nowadays, very retro..
The rain had stained the colours onto my skin and I looked like a banana and chocolate chew bar.My fellow berth pirates looked in amazement as I starting thinking of excuses as to why they shouldn't rape me..
After a couple of hours of sleep as I was exhausted I went to find someone who could point me to a local workshop. I was allowed to remove my pipes and take them deep into the bowls of the ship and weld them back together.An interesting exercise when in the middle of the north sea.
By the time I'd welded and refitted them it was late.
Next day we landed in Gothenburg and I headed off with new optimism.It was october and I hadn't really considered the cold.The darkness came a lot sooner and I remembered what my friend had told me, that
"Moose are attracted to high pitch sounds in the dark"
So basically from Orebro to Uppsala I was in a permanent "shitting bricks" crouch as I stared into the pitch blackness with only a small headlight awaiting the sign of two eyes and 200 kilos of curious Moose..This was actually worst than the first part as it was a complete unknown and the darkness over extenuated the fear factor.But I kept going.
By the time I hit the outskirts of Uppsala everything seemed to have whitened up, but on reflection that was probably just the effect of streetlights after so many hours of darkness.
I'd made it. Sounds like a piss in the ocean, but the pride factor was there. For petrol heads to do such a tour of duty on a race tuned powerjetted elsie is a feat, and she made it as well.
áyé
Turn the pages...
It's catch up time so here we go:
Turn the page 3 of 16
Sitting with Chuck D and Flavour Flav (of Public Enemy) as well as the entire Anthrax backstage at the Brixton academy watching cricket and taking it easy. Flav is the most amazing character I'd met, with different huge clocks swaying around his neck and rapper clothes he just busted rymes 24/7 to everthing..unbelievable.Lets just say Chuck D had attitude and presence..
Anyway, there we are all staring at a game of cricket and after about 5 minutes of silence Charlie (Anthrax drummer from da Bronx) turns to Flav and says in the most serious tone;
"Why da fuck don't they throw the bat when they run..?" 5 minutes of silence followed...
Turn the page 4 of 16 "One night in Soho "
Bunch of us headed south to watch anew group that we all revered, their first gig ever on British shores at the Lyceum Ballroom in London.The band, Metallica when they still we're teenagers.
Standing out back and Cliff Burton, the now deceased bass player (awesome!) comes out the back with a bunch of notes and asks us to go and buy some tinnies. So we head off and come back from the offy with a lot of beer. Hetfield and Burton come out and start drinking, and drinking and its not so long the beers are finished. No backstage pass but a good craic.
Gig awesome and then...
Okay, maybe we should have planned a bit better. No where to go, so we start walking around the streets of london and its getting late.All of a sudden and everything is looking a bit grim. Bricktop replicas are walking around and we realise we've arrived in perverts mecca, Soho.
It's a 24 hour wank stain on the face of london town and we're been magnetised to it..paranoia starts setting in as people start giving the familiar stare of "u lost...) so we scramble into kebab restaurant.
The three of us start buying kebabs and eating them as slow as you can go to ensure we can stay there.We decide for one to keep eating and keep guard while the other 2 catch a catnap.Of course this requires the pointman to keep eating and replacing the kebab. Things are getting desperate on the third kebab...
It's becoming apparent that project kebab shop aint gonna work...
Finally I go up and ask the owner if we can crash there. He's closing shop at 0800 in the morning and he says we can grab a booth at the back, not a problem. I start thinking about an elastoplast on the old starfish and the concept of sleeping is impossible as there is so much going on.Young kids keep running in and out and dealing with a rather large "geeser"(maybe also on project kebab?) and I'll never forget his wry smile and gold tooth..no shit sherlock!
I didn't sleep. The other two did.
At 0800 we left and walked to the train station to head north. Was it worth it..in hindsight of course but not sure back then. I do still have the autographs though from a small notebook that I have kept since then, over 20 years ago..
áyé
Turn the page 3 of 16
Sitting with Chuck D and Flavour Flav (of Public Enemy) as well as the entire Anthrax backstage at the Brixton academy watching cricket and taking it easy. Flav is the most amazing character I'd met, with different huge clocks swaying around his neck and rapper clothes he just busted rymes 24/7 to everthing..unbelievable.Lets just say Chuck D had attitude and presence..
Anyway, there we are all staring at a game of cricket and after about 5 minutes of silence Charlie (Anthrax drummer from da Bronx) turns to Flav and says in the most serious tone;
"Why da fuck don't they throw the bat when they run..?" 5 minutes of silence followed...
Turn the page 4 of 16 "One night in Soho "
Bunch of us headed south to watch anew group that we all revered, their first gig ever on British shores at the Lyceum Ballroom in London.The band, Metallica when they still we're teenagers.
Standing out back and Cliff Burton, the now deceased bass player (awesome!) comes out the back with a bunch of notes and asks us to go and buy some tinnies. So we head off and come back from the offy with a lot of beer. Hetfield and Burton come out and start drinking, and drinking and its not so long the beers are finished. No backstage pass but a good craic.
Gig awesome and then...
Okay, maybe we should have planned a bit better. No where to go, so we start walking around the streets of london and its getting late.All of a sudden and everything is looking a bit grim. Bricktop replicas are walking around and we realise we've arrived in perverts mecca, Soho.
It's a 24 hour wank stain on the face of london town and we're been magnetised to it..paranoia starts setting in as people start giving the familiar stare of "u lost...) so we scramble into kebab restaurant.
The three of us start buying kebabs and eating them as slow as you can go to ensure we can stay there.We decide for one to keep eating and keep guard while the other 2 catch a catnap.Of course this requires the pointman to keep eating and replacing the kebab. Things are getting desperate on the third kebab...
It's becoming apparent that project kebab shop aint gonna work...
Finally I go up and ask the owner if we can crash there. He's closing shop at 0800 in the morning and he says we can grab a booth at the back, not a problem. I start thinking about an elastoplast on the old starfish and the concept of sleeping is impossible as there is so much going on.Young kids keep running in and out and dealing with a rather large "geeser"(maybe also on project kebab?) and I'll never forget his wry smile and gold tooth..no shit sherlock!
I didn't sleep. The other two did.
At 0800 we left and walked to the train station to head north. Was it worth it..in hindsight of course but not sure back then. I do still have the autographs though from a small notebook that I have kept since then, over 20 years ago..
áyé
Reprimand..
Here is an important tip, if your allowed to listen to music with shells at work and tend to sing at the same time don't make the same mistake I did and repeat my favorite song of the week;
The chorus went down like a Biafra kid at a Kentucky fried "eat all u got"
Ditt jävla luder
Med våfflat hår och puder
Du hukar dig och suger
För det är det enda till du duger
Din jävla flata
Du jobbar på en gata
Bara du får pengar
Ja då hoppar du i sängar
reprimanded....
The chorus went down like a Biafra kid at a Kentucky fried "eat all u got"
Ditt jävla luder
Med våfflat hår och puder
Du hukar dig och suger
För det är det enda till du duger
Din jävla flata
Du jobbar på en gata
Bara du får pengar
Ja då hoppar du i sängar
reprimanded....
Jesus Älskar dig!....Efilnikufesin
Time flys, tuesday evening already..
However, monday morning was a classic, hence the title of the blog.
First of all I managed to hit the sack early sunday evening only to be awoken by a phone call at 0300 in the morning that lasted an hour..I'd already been having problems sleeping and this didn't help the anxiety.
I'm sure you've all been in the same position that you stress yourself up so much as you know you have to get up early so you have to go to sleep...NOW!-usually ends up with more anxiety and no sleep.
By 0401 I was asleep and had asked if the same person could wake me up as I knew I'd struggle.
Phone rang, I mumbled..back to sleep..
Phone rang again.."what the fuck...want..you..what time???...shit..."
Got up, stumbled around the flat, brush teeth, eyes as small as piss holes in the snow...
Sms..." u don't have to be so rude.."answered; "sorry, just soo tired"
Can't find keys,
found keys..shit...phone....
found phone...err....right..bus!
rush downstairs , round the corner to see bus pulling away..
"F*TTA!"
...
sms;"thanks for call..missed bus by seconds...f*tta!"
get back one of those special sms's;"take a deep breath and smile! It's a new beautiful day that you a part of...learn to smile at things..make a good day etc..."
........
my reply; "eller bara F*TTA!"
Catch bus , its packed. Why must we pay money to stand? people coughing up blood from the virus and somebodys been over ambitious with cologne..oh, and lets not forget the "pram people"...
Catch a tram..It's packed as well, standing and paying..hmmm suddenly the world went quiet..the battery in my minidisc gave up the Ghost..at around the same time the tram turned towards Järntörget and I saw a sign hanging in a window which in large red letters stated;
Jesus Älskar Dig!
does he...does he really....
However, monday morning was a classic, hence the title of the blog.
First of all I managed to hit the sack early sunday evening only to be awoken by a phone call at 0300 in the morning that lasted an hour..I'd already been having problems sleeping and this didn't help the anxiety.
I'm sure you've all been in the same position that you stress yourself up so much as you know you have to get up early so you have to go to sleep...NOW!-usually ends up with more anxiety and no sleep.
By 0401 I was asleep and had asked if the same person could wake me up as I knew I'd struggle.
Phone rang, I mumbled..back to sleep..
Phone rang again.."what the fuck...want..you..what time???...shit..."
Got up, stumbled around the flat, brush teeth, eyes as small as piss holes in the snow...
Sms..." u don't have to be so rude.."answered; "sorry, just soo tired"
Can't find keys,
found keys..shit...phone....
found phone...err....right..bus!
rush downstairs , round the corner to see bus pulling away..
"F*TTA!"
...
sms;"thanks for call..missed bus by seconds...f*tta!"
get back one of those special sms's;"take a deep breath and smile! It's a new beautiful day that you a part of...learn to smile at things..make a good day etc..."
........
my reply; "eller bara F*TTA!"
Catch bus , its packed. Why must we pay money to stand? people coughing up blood from the virus and somebodys been over ambitious with cologne..oh, and lets not forget the "pram people"...
Catch a tram..It's packed as well, standing and paying..hmmm suddenly the world went quiet..the battery in my minidisc gave up the Ghost..at around the same time the tram turned towards Järntörget and I saw a sign hanging in a window which in large red letters stated;
Jesus Älskar Dig!
does he...does he really....
Sunday, March 4, 2007
Bags unpacked...
Well there went that weekend..
Not without certain disappointments.
having had an early night compared to friday and looking ahead to playing some sevens I never made it off the bench, it was deemed that the young 17 year old juniors from wexio would be played instead..
I will admit to have done the milk bottle on my neck which took a massage, volteraine and deep heat to sort out (I'd played hooker the day before) but I mean the day you get benched for Spartacus who only won one game the whole weekend..I must have blown the trial so bad the day before..I knew I'd had one too many vodka redbull..
Good day though meeting all the National side players and looking forwards to the trip in three weeks time! A couple of injuries may stop some players for that trip so I'll be busy looking for replacements as rehab will take more time for some of the injuries incurred.
Picked up a couple of new young players who are invited to the next trial which should be interesting. Enköping beat Hammerby in the final for men and Malmö ladies won over Enköping in the ladies final. Some good rugby played in both finals.
All in all there weren't so many teams playing real sevens but it was a weekend of rugby all the same and you just can't stop laughing and having a craic!
So now back to reality and the bags unpacked and gonna be made ready for the next trip in 3 weeks against London Welsh. My own training will have to pick up again after the 3 week break and It will be good to start putting on some weight again.
Just be asked to confirm that I'm heading to Las Vegas via Newark with the Boyz back home in Scotland. The itinerary sounds amazing , from the dodge charger in LA to the helicopter ride over the canyon and to mo ab and monument valley. Still, better look at the finances first.. Countdown continues and still nothing planned, but what the hell, its been non stop fun these past few days and perhaps only one other person is making me smile more , but she knows that now and that's another story.
áyé
Not without certain disappointments.
having had an early night compared to friday and looking ahead to playing some sevens I never made it off the bench, it was deemed that the young 17 year old juniors from wexio would be played instead..
I will admit to have done the milk bottle on my neck which took a massage, volteraine and deep heat to sort out (I'd played hooker the day before) but I mean the day you get benched for Spartacus who only won one game the whole weekend..I must have blown the trial so bad the day before..I knew I'd had one too many vodka redbull..
Good day though meeting all the National side players and looking forwards to the trip in three weeks time! A couple of injuries may stop some players for that trip so I'll be busy looking for replacements as rehab will take more time for some of the injuries incurred.
Picked up a couple of new young players who are invited to the next trial which should be interesting. Enköping beat Hammerby in the final for men and Malmö ladies won over Enköping in the ladies final. Some good rugby played in both finals.
All in all there weren't so many teams playing real sevens but it was a weekend of rugby all the same and you just can't stop laughing and having a craic!
So now back to reality and the bags unpacked and gonna be made ready for the next trip in 3 weeks against London Welsh. My own training will have to pick up again after the 3 week break and It will be good to start putting on some weight again.
Just be asked to confirm that I'm heading to Las Vegas via Newark with the Boyz back home in Scotland. The itinerary sounds amazing , from the dodge charger in LA to the helicopter ride over the canyon and to mo ab and monument valley. Still, better look at the finances first.. Countdown continues and still nothing planned, but what the hell, its been non stop fun these past few days and perhaps only one other person is making me smile more , but she knows that now and that's another story.
áyé
Wexio 7's
So we headed down friday and arrived at 20.00.
First things first, change the single for a double as the guy driving the wheels would also need his own bed.
Meet up with some of the boyz from England to start the talks about some kit for club and country.
This also led to way too many beers, vodka redbull, rum and cokes and a night out in Wexio.
Good times, stories from across the globe and rugby tours in Thai land we're the main topic..I have to go there.
Saturday and we managed to oversleep..no surprise here..
Quick breakfast and headed down to Tipshallen to meet up with players.The concept of playing went away quickly as I was reminded just how large a pitch is..headache didn't help either...
N* went out and played for Pingvin and Hammerby as I walked around talking to coaches and players and watching the games.I wasn't really into playing at this point and it took the whole day before I put my boots on and played for the team that had the worst scores of the day, Spartacus.They had been hit by injuries and in my state I didn't really do them any justice..
Good fun though as I got frikken smashed by hitting a space which I knew was already covered by three Malmö players...reminds you of why you love the sport! Being SMASHED!
N* did a better job and the teams that impressed we're Hammerby and Enköping.
To be honest, most of the teams (all bar one) play a game I deemed to call "Drivel" as it aint sevens. We don't use the ball enough for the width game and instead we kinda run towards each other and then go into contact.You'd be lucky to see more than 2 passes before a collision and the numbers in the ruck we're a joke..men men, thats what were heading towards in the future.
Back to the hotel and we just chilled, good conversation whilst we had a swim in the pool and a bastu. As always its the best when your in good company and can have a good crack.
Rugby can give you some awesome experiences and some fantastic stories which to be honest must stay within the confounds of the bastu.Steak and chips for dinner , once again in good company with guys that know how to spin a tail..
It's true when they say that laughter is therapy and you should laugh as much as possible. We have done a lot!
Right, it's late,
(can't sleep, too much coffee..) Quiet night tonite, missed the "part 3 turn the page" but will catch up tomorrow.
See if I can get another game but without the stinking headache I've had all day. Coaches meetings booked in and players to watch..
áyé
First things first, change the single for a double as the guy driving the wheels would also need his own bed.
Meet up with some of the boyz from England to start the talks about some kit for club and country.
This also led to way too many beers, vodka redbull, rum and cokes and a night out in Wexio.
Good times, stories from across the globe and rugby tours in Thai land we're the main topic..I have to go there.
Saturday and we managed to oversleep..no surprise here..
Quick breakfast and headed down to Tipshallen to meet up with players.The concept of playing went away quickly as I was reminded just how large a pitch is..headache didn't help either...
N* went out and played for Pingvin and Hammerby as I walked around talking to coaches and players and watching the games.I wasn't really into playing at this point and it took the whole day before I put my boots on and played for the team that had the worst scores of the day, Spartacus.They had been hit by injuries and in my state I didn't really do them any justice..
Good fun though as I got frikken smashed by hitting a space which I knew was already covered by three Malmö players...reminds you of why you love the sport! Being SMASHED!
N* did a better job and the teams that impressed we're Hammerby and Enköping.
To be honest, most of the teams (all bar one) play a game I deemed to call "Drivel" as it aint sevens. We don't use the ball enough for the width game and instead we kinda run towards each other and then go into contact.You'd be lucky to see more than 2 passes before a collision and the numbers in the ruck we're a joke..men men, thats what were heading towards in the future.
Back to the hotel and we just chilled, good conversation whilst we had a swim in the pool and a bastu. As always its the best when your in good company and can have a good crack.
Rugby can give you some awesome experiences and some fantastic stories which to be honest must stay within the confounds of the bastu.Steak and chips for dinner , once again in good company with guys that know how to spin a tail..
It's true when they say that laughter is therapy and you should laugh as much as possible. We have done a lot!
Right, it's late,
(can't sleep, too much coffee..) Quiet night tonite, missed the "part 3 turn the page" but will catch up tomorrow.
See if I can get another game but without the stinking headache I've had all day. Coaches meetings booked in and players to watch..
áyé
Friday, March 2, 2007
Turn the Page 2 of 16; St.Marys, Ramones, Comfort and the stomach pump..
They say that the best events happen when you dont have any expectations and haven't planned them. You know what I mean, how many times have you planned to go out for weeks or organised a party and been lef’ disappointed afterwards. But the best times have been off the cuff..
To be honest I can't remember how we found out about the Ramones playing at the barrowlands in Glasgow , I simply remember putting on my stonecake "It's Alive" and persuading my mates that we simply couldn't miss them.
I had first listened to the Ramones when I was 9 years old, having bought a punk record just because it had a song on it whose title got me interested , Patti Smiths "piss factory". On the same record was "Sheena is a punk rocker"..I was sold.(Nb*I actually got into a lot of trouble listening to this record as I was in Public School and the punishment I received was to listen to the 1812 Overture with the Housemaster when caught with a bunch of mates headbangin' to Sheena..)
So we headed to Glasgow.Of course. we ended up in a small playground with bags of spirits and started drinking as only teenagers can..My favorite then was Southern Comfort.I managed to swallow a 75an in around 15 minutes.Looking back this was probably down to the fact that I couldn't stand the taste and simply drank as soon as possible.You have to understand that mixing spirits within our gang simply wasn't possible.So we each had our own favorite;Southern comfort, jack Daniels, Pernod(?) and of course Smirnoff.
The next hour is fairly vague. I remember feeling like Bambi trying to take my first steps as well as Kicking one of my friends in the bollox as he tried to grab me (he was an American and unfamiliar with the "Scottish way"..)Welcome to the world of alcohol poisoning.
My mates got me to St Marys hospital, asked me if I was okay (my response was "gaga") and took my ticket and left.I was stomach pumped, "God blessed me, dressed me and shaved me" and kicked me back onto the streets.They don't hold down beds for piss heads in Glasgow on a Saturday night..So, looking as pale as the Holy ghost I headed towards the Barrowlands.
Once outside I of course realised I had no ticket.Getting in front was never going to work so I hung around and went to the backstage area.Obviously Fate wanted me not to miss this band as I managed to get through a door that was obviously there for loading gear and slightly ajar.As I walked up cautiously I noticed a bouncer who simply looked at me and let me through.
The Ramones had already started but just to hear the "1,2,3,4" and those first riffs of "chainsaw" had me rushing down at the front and mixing it up with a bunch of punks, skins, pyscobillies, you name it they make the front and you just lose it!!Once it was all over I went outside and met up with my mates who couldn't believe I'd made it.However, they had also decided that it was a sensible idea to let my mother know..thanks a lot...the broomstick came out the next time we met..
I saw the Ramones three times and despite trying to get as caned on booze never made the same level.One of the benefits of being born in the 60s!
May they Riff in Peace!
Joey Ramone died of cancer 15 april 2001 .
Dee Dee Ramone found dead in Hollywood of an overdose 5th june 2002
Johnny Ramone died of prostate cancer 15 september 2004
áyé
To be honest I can't remember how we found out about the Ramones playing at the barrowlands in Glasgow , I simply remember putting on my stonecake "It's Alive" and persuading my mates that we simply couldn't miss them.
I had first listened to the Ramones when I was 9 years old, having bought a punk record just because it had a song on it whose title got me interested , Patti Smiths "piss factory". On the same record was "Sheena is a punk rocker"..I was sold.(Nb*I actually got into a lot of trouble listening to this record as I was in Public School and the punishment I received was to listen to the 1812 Overture with the Housemaster when caught with a bunch of mates headbangin' to Sheena..)
So we headed to Glasgow.Of course. we ended up in a small playground with bags of spirits and started drinking as only teenagers can..My favorite then was Southern Comfort.I managed to swallow a 75an in around 15 minutes.Looking back this was probably down to the fact that I couldn't stand the taste and simply drank as soon as possible.You have to understand that mixing spirits within our gang simply wasn't possible.So we each had our own favorite;Southern comfort, jack Daniels, Pernod(?) and of course Smirnoff.
The next hour is fairly vague. I remember feeling like Bambi trying to take my first steps as well as Kicking one of my friends in the bollox as he tried to grab me (he was an American and unfamiliar with the "Scottish way"..)Welcome to the world of alcohol poisoning.
My mates got me to St Marys hospital, asked me if I was okay (my response was "gaga") and took my ticket and left.I was stomach pumped, "God blessed me, dressed me and shaved me" and kicked me back onto the streets.They don't hold down beds for piss heads in Glasgow on a Saturday night..So, looking as pale as the Holy ghost I headed towards the Barrowlands.
Once outside I of course realised I had no ticket.Getting in front was never going to work so I hung around and went to the backstage area.Obviously Fate wanted me not to miss this band as I managed to get through a door that was obviously there for loading gear and slightly ajar.As I walked up cautiously I noticed a bouncer who simply looked at me and let me through.
The Ramones had already started but just to hear the "1,2,3,4" and those first riffs of "chainsaw" had me rushing down at the front and mixing it up with a bunch of punks, skins, pyscobillies, you name it they make the front and you just lose it!!Once it was all over I went outside and met up with my mates who couldn't believe I'd made it.However, they had also decided that it was a sensible idea to let my mother know..thanks a lot...the broomstick came out the next time we met..
I saw the Ramones three times and despite trying to get as caned on booze never made the same level.One of the benefits of being born in the 60s!
May they Riff in Peace!
Joey Ramone died of cancer 15 april 2001 .
Dee Dee Ramone found dead in Hollywood of an overdose 5th june 2002
Johnny Ramone died of prostate cancer 15 september 2004
áyé
Thursday, March 1, 2007
I don't believe you SS
I can't understand,
She let go of my hand
An' left me here facing the wall.
I'd sure like to know
Why she did go,
But I can't get close to her at all.
Though we talked through the snow blazing nighttime,
She said she would never forget.
But now morning is clear,
It's like I ain't here,
She just acts like we never have met.
It's all new to me,
Like some mystery,
It could even be like a myth.
But it's hard to think on,
That she's the same one
That last night I talked with.
From darkness, dreams're deserted,
Am I still dreamin' yet?
I wish she'd unlock
Her voice once an' talk,
'Stead of acting like we never have met.
If she ain't feeling well,
Then why don't she tell
'Stead of turnin' her back to my face?
Without any doubt,
She seems too far out
For me to return to her chase.
But evidently she don't
An evidently she won't,
She just acts like we never have met.
If I didn't have to guess,
I'd gladly confess
To anything I might've tried.
If I was with her too long
Or have done something wrong,
But now something has changed
For she ain't the same,
She just acts like we never have met.
I'm leaving today,
I'll be on my way
Of this I can't say very much.
But if you want me to,
I can be just like you
An pretend that we never have touched.
An if anybody asks me, "Is it easy to forget?"
I'll say, "It's easily done,
You just pick anyone,
An pretend that you never have met!"
(thanks Ldb* for contribution.)
She let go of my hand
An' left me here facing the wall.
I'd sure like to know
Why she did go,
But I can't get close to her at all.
Though we talked through the snow blazing nighttime,
She said she would never forget.
But now morning is clear,
It's like I ain't here,
She just acts like we never have met.
It's all new to me,
Like some mystery,
It could even be like a myth.
But it's hard to think on,
That she's the same one
That last night I talked with.
From darkness, dreams're deserted,
Am I still dreamin' yet?
I wish she'd unlock
Her voice once an' talk,
'Stead of acting like we never have met.
If she ain't feeling well,
Then why don't she tell
'Stead of turnin' her back to my face?
Without any doubt,
She seems too far out
For me to return to her chase.
But evidently she don't
An evidently she won't,
She just acts like we never have met.
If I didn't have to guess,
I'd gladly confess
To anything I might've tried.
If I was with her too long
Or have done something wrong,
But now something has changed
For she ain't the same,
She just acts like we never have met.
I'm leaving today,
I'll be on my way
Of this I can't say very much.
But if you want me to,
I can be just like you
An pretend that we never have touched.
An if anybody asks me, "Is it easy to forget?"
I'll say, "It's easily done,
You just pick anyone,
An pretend that you never have met!"
(thanks Ldb* for contribution.)
´The present..and the near future..
Ok, I realise I kinda get carried away with writing, lets get back up to date.
last night I had a conversation where people tried to get me to admit I was a feminist..
I'm a Humanist, hence no focus on gender. Good discussion anyway and the two bottles of masi managed to keep things going...
This coming weekend will be great as I'm heading to Wexio for the Indoors 7 a side to keep an eye on up and coming players as well as taking my own boots.We shall see if I get a match or if I actually feel up to play after the 3 weeks off.
Still, meeting up with some good people who are coming from all around and as far as England with their own agenda. After this week which has been a right "kant" week it will be good to meet up and discuss the "Game". Had a mail from another National coach informing that I was welcome to join some sessions which is awesome.
This has been the first week back to the gym which has been a testing time and a max period of 40 minutes and some multi reps will hopefully keep me on track.
M t* has moved back into her renovated flat so the main subject has been interior design. Ok, confession number one, I know what I like but I also know my limitations. Interior design, mixing up the colours, plants, flowers, lighting...nope.No idea. Always impresses me with people who can envisage. I suppose everyone to their own priority and mine is definitely not here.
Still, good to try and be involved and I can always set up the pc...
The Supermotard is still waiting for it's r/h side block to be changed with all its bearings as well as the snapped cam chain. Hopefully I'll have some time for this soon so once we get some good weather it'll be back to Motard fun! I may even move up to something a bit bigger this year, however pound for pound there is nothing more fun.
Anyway, more updates will come including the countdown to the new page..
áyé
last night I had a conversation where people tried to get me to admit I was a feminist..
I'm a Humanist, hence no focus on gender. Good discussion anyway and the two bottles of masi managed to keep things going...
This coming weekend will be great as I'm heading to Wexio for the Indoors 7 a side to keep an eye on up and coming players as well as taking my own boots.We shall see if I get a match or if I actually feel up to play after the 3 weeks off.
Still, meeting up with some good people who are coming from all around and as far as England with their own agenda. After this week which has been a right "kant" week it will be good to meet up and discuss the "Game". Had a mail from another National coach informing that I was welcome to join some sessions which is awesome.
This has been the first week back to the gym which has been a testing time and a max period of 40 minutes and some multi reps will hopefully keep me on track.
M t* has moved back into her renovated flat so the main subject has been interior design. Ok, confession number one, I know what I like but I also know my limitations. Interior design, mixing up the colours, plants, flowers, lighting...nope.No idea. Always impresses me with people who can envisage. I suppose everyone to their own priority and mine is definitely not here.
Still, good to try and be involved and I can always set up the pc...
The Supermotard is still waiting for it's r/h side block to be changed with all its bearings as well as the snapped cam chain. Hopefully I'll have some time for this soon so once we get some good weather it'll be back to Motard fun! I may even move up to something a bit bigger this year, however pound for pound there is nothing more fun.
Anyway, more updates will come including the countdown to the new page..
áyé
"Matyrträsket"
Rollercoaster humor swings and roundabouts , call them what you want they're pretty ongoing everywhere.
This is a speciality, but the one that I'm most familiar with is the classic;
I’m down-so should you be! syndrome.(c matyrträsket)
Ever noticed how people who are a wee bit down, wee depressed and feeling a wee bit sorry for themselves tend to find it particularly annoying if your not. In fact, if your the opposite they will do everything in their power to pull you down into the swamp with them.
If this fails the first time round they just raise the stakes. It is hard not to be pulled down into the swamp and once there you suddenly notice the transformation, as they have climbed out of the martyr swamp and suddenly started feeling good as your now up to your armpits in crap.
Ever noticed that? We actually feel better if we bring somebody happy down to our level, so then we're happy and they're pissed..
It's just the nature of things...
hmm..áyé
This is a speciality, but the one that I'm most familiar with is the classic;
I’m down-so should you be! syndrome.(c matyrträsket)
Ever noticed how people who are a wee bit down, wee depressed and feeling a wee bit sorry for themselves tend to find it particularly annoying if your not. In fact, if your the opposite they will do everything in their power to pull you down into the swamp with them.
If this fails the first time round they just raise the stakes. It is hard not to be pulled down into the swamp and once there you suddenly notice the transformation, as they have climbed out of the martyr swamp and suddenly started feeling good as your now up to your armpits in crap.
Ever noticed that? We actually feel better if we bring somebody happy down to our level, so then we're happy and they're pissed..
It's just the nature of things...
hmm..áyé
"Good Riddance, I hope you had the time of your life"
Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road,
Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go,
So make the best of this test, and dont ask why,
Its not a question but a lesson learned in time,
Its something unpredictable, but in the end its right,I hope you had the time of your life
So take the photographs and still fames in your mind
Hang it on a shelf in good health and good time
Tatoos of memories and dead skin on trial
For what its worth it was worth all the while
Its something unpredictable, but in the end its right,I hope you had the time of your life
áyé
Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go,
So make the best of this test, and dont ask why,
Its not a question but a lesson learned in time,
Its something unpredictable, but in the end its right,I hope you had the time of your life
So take the photographs and still fames in your mind
Hang it on a shelf in good health and good time
Tatoos of memories and dead skin on trial
For what its worth it was worth all the while
Its something unpredictable, but in the end its right,I hope you had the time of your life
áyé
Across the borders....
Sitting at work the other day I started wondering if it was possible to have one language , one day for everybody.
Then of course I realised that there is already one language that crosses every border; Body language of course..
This then started me thinking about using this as a starting place for a language on a global scale. Globalization as opposed to localization. So, as opposed to my kids getting french or Spanish as a second language I started thinking about Sign language being of more use if everybody on a global scale could do sign language.
(Keep in mind here that these thought processes are being written as they came...)
I felt quite pleased at this point that I had solved a huge problem on a global scale. Then I realised you can't write in sign language, or listen in sign language...DOH!
Not giving up so easy I started asking colleagues if Braille was globalized.
No idea came the response. However, sign language is localized , they said.
Dammit...
Nobody was sure, otherwise we had globalized sign and braille as well as the usual body language we all know..
Obviously what we're looking at here is a globalized body language that uses braille and sign language which would connect people from Outer Mongolia to the Outer Hebrides (Scottish Gaelic). Wouldn't that be kinda cool..
Anyway, more questions than answers and basically a passing thought through an otherwise dreary day. Its all about communication after all and when working with Translation the ultimate challenge passed through the mind.
áye
Then of course I realised that there is already one language that crosses every border; Body language of course..
This then started me thinking about using this as a starting place for a language on a global scale. Globalization as opposed to localization. So, as opposed to my kids getting french or Spanish as a second language I started thinking about Sign language being of more use if everybody on a global scale could do sign language.
(Keep in mind here that these thought processes are being written as they came...)
I felt quite pleased at this point that I had solved a huge problem on a global scale. Then I realised you can't write in sign language, or listen in sign language...DOH!
Not giving up so easy I started asking colleagues if Braille was globalized.
No idea came the response. However, sign language is localized , they said.
Dammit...
Nobody was sure, otherwise we had globalized sign and braille as well as the usual body language we all know..
Obviously what we're looking at here is a globalized body language that uses braille and sign language which would connect people from Outer Mongolia to the Outer Hebrides (Scottish Gaelic). Wouldn't that be kinda cool..
Anyway, more questions than answers and basically a passing thought through an otherwise dreary day. Its all about communication after all and when working with Translation the ultimate challenge passed through the mind.
áye
Turn the Page Part 1 of 16
Countdown has begun like "Logans Run" and my crystal is turning colour (NB: only sci-fi nerds will understand this..).
Mission now is to cover a wee memory every day leading up to the day I turn the page and start looking forwards to stage 3.
"Stoned at the Stones"
So my first story is the time I headed up to Basel, Switzerland to watch the Rolling Stones on their "lets spend the night together" tour. I believe the date was '85 (still have the tour shirt..).
Anyway, I was in Switzerland with my best school mate at the time from Scotland and on the train up we stupidly decided to smoke for the first time, an illegal cigarette. I remember this well as it was grass stuffed cunningly in a Marlboro paper and filter setup. back then you could smoke on the train ( I believe you probably still can in Baltic country's..)
Well you can imagine the excitement. Stoned at the Stones....
Of course we ended up completely gaga for around 4 hours and just sat outside the stadium wondering what the hell went wrong..All we were missing we're a drip and a straw. We must have looked horrendous. My mate couldn't stop staring at breasts which I found quite amusing as his reaction time was so slow due to the weed that he hardly noticed them staring back and telling him off..
Once in we kept waiting for the effects to wear off but no, this wasn't the case.
J. Geils band kicked off and I only remember their big hit wonder "centerfold".
The Stones were mesmerizing.Seriously toight and professional and the weather and whole spectacle was a memory not to forget..My mate did though, he stood on a chair the entire concert and stared down a cleavage and kept prodding me to look..He's now a rock photographer who travels the world, last time we talked he mentioned Motley Crue and backstage groupies..
Anyway, gig over we managed to catch a cab.I had to do an imitation to the cab driver of a choo choo train as he was asking if we wanted to go to the Bahnoff SBB.(Swiss German aint no french.)
The end of the story would have been simple if only we hadn't got off at Nyon, miles from Geneva at around 0100 in the morning. So, of course we decided to walk the 25 + miles back home, on the autoroute. Illegal of course. But we'd already been through the beer, the weed and the Stones experience so we're ready to take on the Pigs , man (?)..
Well, not really.
After a couple of miles walking (in cowboy boots of course from Jacque Cuir, Geneve) we weren't as enthusiastic and the cops turned up. It was at this point that my rebel attitude turned to self preservation and I handed Police Inspector KiddyMolester a card that my father had given me if such a situation would arise. We we're told to move on (we hadn't made the autoroute by this point..) and we felt as if we ruled.Well..indeed.rebels without a clue.
Once we made the autoroute both nostrils started spurting blood. As mentioned previously I'd been cauterized several times for this problem and of course now both started gushing..
So there we are, middle of nowhere, covered in blood, walking in cowboy heels with the sun coming up and completely exhausted..We made a drive in area and I decided there was only one thing left for it.
Thanks Dad..
Coming soon:
The Ramones and the stomach pump, St Marys Glasgow..
Sharing a Crate with Cliff Burton and a long night in Soho, London
Hells Angels , powder and Claymores
Snövit,Police surveillance Mr Johnson, who are you?
London Dungeons, Anthrax and the prostitute.
Daytona, Disney and dust..
Alastaro, 15 crates and a road race
"Gjutjärn Bastu" and a dilemma
The Sigtuna Sailing experience..
yes indeed, it's time to Turn the Page
and much much more :-)
Mission now is to cover a wee memory every day leading up to the day I turn the page and start looking forwards to stage 3.
"Stoned at the Stones"
So my first story is the time I headed up to Basel, Switzerland to watch the Rolling Stones on their "lets spend the night together" tour. I believe the date was '85 (still have the tour shirt..).
Anyway, I was in Switzerland with my best school mate at the time from Scotland and on the train up we stupidly decided to smoke for the first time, an illegal cigarette. I remember this well as it was grass stuffed cunningly in a Marlboro paper and filter setup. back then you could smoke on the train ( I believe you probably still can in Baltic country's..)
Well you can imagine the excitement. Stoned at the Stones....
Of course we ended up completely gaga for around 4 hours and just sat outside the stadium wondering what the hell went wrong..All we were missing we're a drip and a straw. We must have looked horrendous. My mate couldn't stop staring at breasts which I found quite amusing as his reaction time was so slow due to the weed that he hardly noticed them staring back and telling him off..
Once in we kept waiting for the effects to wear off but no, this wasn't the case.
J. Geils band kicked off and I only remember their big hit wonder "centerfold".
The Stones were mesmerizing.Seriously toight and professional and the weather and whole spectacle was a memory not to forget..My mate did though, he stood on a chair the entire concert and stared down a cleavage and kept prodding me to look..He's now a rock photographer who travels the world, last time we talked he mentioned Motley Crue and backstage groupies..
Anyway, gig over we managed to catch a cab.I had to do an imitation to the cab driver of a choo choo train as he was asking if we wanted to go to the Bahnoff SBB.(Swiss German aint no french.)
The end of the story would have been simple if only we hadn't got off at Nyon, miles from Geneva at around 0100 in the morning. So, of course we decided to walk the 25 + miles back home, on the autoroute. Illegal of course. But we'd already been through the beer, the weed and the Stones experience so we're ready to take on the Pigs , man (?)..
Well, not really.
After a couple of miles walking (in cowboy boots of course from Jacque Cuir, Geneve) we weren't as enthusiastic and the cops turned up. It was at this point that my rebel attitude turned to self preservation and I handed Police Inspector KiddyMolester a card that my father had given me if such a situation would arise. We we're told to move on (we hadn't made the autoroute by this point..) and we felt as if we ruled.Well..indeed.rebels without a clue.
Once we made the autoroute both nostrils started spurting blood. As mentioned previously I'd been cauterized several times for this problem and of course now both started gushing..
So there we are, middle of nowhere, covered in blood, walking in cowboy heels with the sun coming up and completely exhausted..We made a drive in area and I decided there was only one thing left for it.
Thanks Dad..
Coming soon:
The Ramones and the stomach pump, St Marys Glasgow..
Sharing a Crate with Cliff Burton and a long night in Soho, London
Hells Angels , powder and Claymores
Snövit,Police surveillance Mr Johnson, who are you?
London Dungeons, Anthrax and the prostitute.
Daytona, Disney and dust..
Alastaro, 15 crates and a road race
"Gjutjärn Bastu" and a dilemma
The Sigtuna Sailing experience..
yes indeed, it's time to Turn the Page
and much much more :-)
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Power Windows...
Life becoming a routine?
Do yourself a favour, junk the power windows, so called as they draw you to them as soon as get home, or after you've made food or whenever your tired.
Ok, lets distinguish the difference between a pc and a tv. You can use a pc for whatever, most importantly communication.Good and bad.You can be creative and use your fantasy as well as communicate.
However, the TV is just a media machine that spews out crap. Just take a step out of the paradine box and think about it.
Try it for a week. I'll admit to watching such classics as "monday fight night"...and thats about all apart from the news which is out of facisnation more than buying what others want us to believe.
So, unplug and see what you can make of your life without the new flatscreen.
Read some books, write a diary, take up that hobby you always promised or just see how much you actually have left to talk about with your partner.
One of the best trips I ever made was a week away on a 1921 wooden racing sailing boat in stockholms skärgård. But thats another story..
Trust me, try and get away with a week of everything else apart from the Power window thats rotting your otherwise interesting life away!
Or maybe thats all your life has become?
áyé
Do yourself a favour, junk the power windows, so called as they draw you to them as soon as get home, or after you've made food or whenever your tired.
Ok, lets distinguish the difference between a pc and a tv. You can use a pc for whatever, most importantly communication.Good and bad.You can be creative and use your fantasy as well as communicate.
However, the TV is just a media machine that spews out crap. Just take a step out of the paradine box and think about it.
Try it for a week. I'll admit to watching such classics as "monday fight night"...and thats about all apart from the news which is out of facisnation more than buying what others want us to believe.
So, unplug and see what you can make of your life without the new flatscreen.
Read some books, write a diary, take up that hobby you always promised or just see how much you actually have left to talk about with your partner.
One of the best trips I ever made was a week away on a 1921 wooden racing sailing boat in stockholms skärgård. But thats another story..
Trust me, try and get away with a week of everything else apart from the Power window thats rotting your otherwise interesting life away!
Or maybe thats all your life has become?
áyé
Monday, February 26, 2007
The Piano String religion
So, as you can gather the morning was a bit rough but this evening made up for it for I have discovered a new religion that promises extended enjoyment but where celibacy isn't a must and you can drink as much as you want.
It's called;
Stretching! And the delightful Linda held the pass..and I mean delightful..
We had to grab a partner and stretch against each other.It was embarrassing how toight my hamstrings were and at some points it sounded like the piano wires were gonna snap.
I passed the comment "this is better than sex".Nobody laughed..
I've always been really bad at doing this and survived until about a month ago.Since then its been a medial ligament pain and twice I've pulled out of training due to a pulled hamstring in my left leg.Not good. So now I'm signing up for Stretch, Pilates and maybe even Yoga. Tai Chi was on the cards but I'm on a roll now and I have to ensure I keep limber.game this weekend and its indoors..
Stretch.The New Religion.
áyé
It's called;
Stretching! And the delightful Linda held the pass..and I mean delightful..
We had to grab a partner and stretch against each other.It was embarrassing how toight my hamstrings were and at some points it sounded like the piano wires were gonna snap.
I passed the comment "this is better than sex".Nobody laughed..
I've always been really bad at doing this and survived until about a month ago.Since then its been a medial ligament pain and twice I've pulled out of training due to a pulled hamstring in my left leg.Not good. So now I'm signing up for Stretch, Pilates and maybe even Yoga. Tai Chi was on the cards but I'm on a roll now and I have to ensure I keep limber.game this weekend and its indoors..
Stretch.The New Religion.
áyé
"Tell me why I don't like mondays"...
Ok.
Monday morning and flight time again.
Everything that could piss me off happening and for the first time I had the answer to the Boomtown Rats.
I nearly missed the train.
I had a lunatic who tried to take my wallet from the table on the train and pretend it was his.
I hadn't had a coffee.
I had to pay 195kr for a trip that takes 15 minutes.Airport tax..Strange that it only costs 95kr the other way.
And then it was the control gate nightmare again..
This time I stood behind two ladies who obviously couldn't read as they had to unpack their laptops, and then take off their jackets and then start asking questions..Grrrrrr READ THE FUCKING SIGNS!
and then it came..having just purchased my first coffee of the morning, a 7/11 special (my favorite at this time) and Mr Protector of the faith informs me that I can't take it through..
"you are taking the frikken piss, its a cup of coffee..I can buy coffee on the other side"...
the grin came followed by; "I don't make the rules sir.." AHHH..take the coffee...
Of course a body search followed, luckily without rubber gloves and starfish piercing but at least the girl gave me a grin when she pointed at my rear and asked what it was I had in my pocket;
"whats this?"
"A toight ass" was my response, quickly followed by laughter as a young girl of around 6 years old was being searched (NO JOKE!) ,
"well now we have found the shoe-shine terrorist " I said and walked away laughing. Nobody else laughed..
Once on the plane I found a seat near the cockpit.This is vital if one has seen the first episode of "Lost".Feeling content that despite being one of the last on the plane (I never understand why people are so anxious to q and get on first) I then heard that noise that had me putting my head into my knees. A baby in the seat in front..crying..Noooooooooo!
Still, no coffee..
Special treatment for the baby though and the parents, special life saver.yeah, right, like thats gonna help..and if the family does survive lets hope we don't remake "alive"....nice and tender.
I'd only been up a few hours. Walked 3kms. paid too much on a train and managed to get stuck behind a screamer, and that was before we had cabin pressure effects..and still, no coffee as Mr Nazi had taken it.
yes indeed, Tell me why I don't like mondays!
áyé
Monday morning and flight time again.
Everything that could piss me off happening and for the first time I had the answer to the Boomtown Rats.
I nearly missed the train.
I had a lunatic who tried to take my wallet from the table on the train and pretend it was his.
I hadn't had a coffee.
I had to pay 195kr for a trip that takes 15 minutes.Airport tax..Strange that it only costs 95kr the other way.
And then it was the control gate nightmare again..
This time I stood behind two ladies who obviously couldn't read as they had to unpack their laptops, and then take off their jackets and then start asking questions..Grrrrrr READ THE FUCKING SIGNS!
and then it came..having just purchased my first coffee of the morning, a 7/11 special (my favorite at this time) and Mr Protector of the faith informs me that I can't take it through..
"you are taking the frikken piss, its a cup of coffee..I can buy coffee on the other side"...
the grin came followed by; "I don't make the rules sir.." AHHH..take the coffee...
Of course a body search followed, luckily without rubber gloves and starfish piercing but at least the girl gave me a grin when she pointed at my rear and asked what it was I had in my pocket;
"whats this?"
"A toight ass" was my response, quickly followed by laughter as a young girl of around 6 years old was being searched (NO JOKE!) ,
"well now we have found the shoe-shine terrorist " I said and walked away laughing. Nobody else laughed..
Once on the plane I found a seat near the cockpit.This is vital if one has seen the first episode of "Lost".Feeling content that despite being one of the last on the plane (I never understand why people are so anxious to q and get on first) I then heard that noise that had me putting my head into my knees. A baby in the seat in front..crying..Noooooooooo!
Still, no coffee..
Special treatment for the baby though and the parents, special life saver.yeah, right, like thats gonna help..and if the family does survive lets hope we don't remake "alive"....nice and tender.
I'd only been up a few hours. Walked 3kms. paid too much on a train and managed to get stuck behind a screamer, and that was before we had cabin pressure effects..and still, no coffee as Mr Nazi had taken it.
yes indeed, Tell me why I don't like mondays!
áyé
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Chicago memory
Okay , before I hit the sack, today the mention of the states reminded me of a rather interesting meeting I had.
Whilst I was awaiting a flight in Chicago back in '90s (i was in the states as a hired bodyguard..another story),
I searched around to finally find the smoking area.It was a really small cornered off area and there were a few tables and that stench that even we smokers mind.
I was joined across the table by an older man.He was smoking really strong cigarettes that had a very individual smell.
We struck up a conversation based on the subject of his ciggs.He offered me one.It was strong.
It turned out he was bitter about the fact that the United states army had decided to decree that he was a hero and give him a bunch of medals, which he showed me.
He resented the entire idea of being a hero and said that you do stupid things when your shit scared and then 50 years later they make you dress up in old army clothes which were uncomfortable back then, but now even worst when you didn't need them.
He was so "matter about the fact" that he was a genuine WWII hero.The type he read about, the type you watch John Wayne recreating.And yet, he had nothing good to say about the whole affair.He was too old and too tired to catch an Atlantic flight to stand with people he didn't know to be reminded of those people who he did know who couldn't be there as they had died at the same place they would now lay a wreath. And he said he was no hero, just a guy who would have done what any other guy would have done.The difference was that he not only survived but had witnesses.
We shared our time and smoked his ghastly cigarettes that he had started smoking after his Europe trips and said farewell and good luck to each other.
I thought about this man today. I wonder if he is still alive and if not I presume he would have had a very colourful funeral with the 12 gun salute.
I hope he is still alive and smoking those ciggs on a porch somewhere.
lets face it, not everybody gets the privilege to meet the genuine article everyday.
áyé
Whilst I was awaiting a flight in Chicago back in '90s (i was in the states as a hired bodyguard..another story),
I searched around to finally find the smoking area.It was a really small cornered off area and there were a few tables and that stench that even we smokers mind.
I was joined across the table by an older man.He was smoking really strong cigarettes that had a very individual smell.
We struck up a conversation based on the subject of his ciggs.He offered me one.It was strong.
It turned out he was bitter about the fact that the United states army had decided to decree that he was a hero and give him a bunch of medals, which he showed me.
He resented the entire idea of being a hero and said that you do stupid things when your shit scared and then 50 years later they make you dress up in old army clothes which were uncomfortable back then, but now even worst when you didn't need them.
He was so "matter about the fact" that he was a genuine WWII hero.The type he read about, the type you watch John Wayne recreating.And yet, he had nothing good to say about the whole affair.He was too old and too tired to catch an Atlantic flight to stand with people he didn't know to be reminded of those people who he did know who couldn't be there as they had died at the same place they would now lay a wreath. And he said he was no hero, just a guy who would have done what any other guy would have done.The difference was that he not only survived but had witnesses.
We shared our time and smoked his ghastly cigarettes that he had started smoking after his Europe trips and said farewell and good luck to each other.
I thought about this man today. I wonder if he is still alive and if not I presume he would have had a very colourful funeral with the 12 gun salute.
I hope he is still alive and smoking those ciggs on a porch somewhere.
lets face it, not everybody gets the privilege to meet the genuine article everyday.
áyé
...Cleaning out my closet....
Sure, reading over the past posts you've probably thought that I've finally lost the plot..again.
facts are facts, seems like it's time to clean out my emotional closet.
A couple of sms have gone out and come in and once again I face rejection from one end and an open embrace from another, and the funny thing is I reckon I'm simply one of millions who has the same dramas placed on at my front door..difference is in interpretation.
As I've already mentioned from friday evening something changed.I'm coming closer to moving around the corner.Today would be a last day with the kids for a while and I asked them what they wanted to do. They asked if I would take them to an internet cafe in town. Not really something I wanted to do but I decided to take them to their IT mecca and let them play the latest and greatest games, on the condition that we would walk there.
As usual the conversation was great despite being mostly about Bruce Lee and how poor 70's films are.
When we arrived at the cafe we thought it was closed.It looked closed but a bright neon light showed the opening hours and those lights were the brightest items to be seen as indoors it was basically a large dark room filled with pc's and the next generation swearing as their mate had blown up their tank in "battle Zone 2". As sad as it seemed, I paid the monies and gave them an hour in what I conceived as one of Dantes circles of hell.
As I closed the door behind me I noticed a sign on the door that made my heart sink;
"e-sport, sport for all"
The next hour was more proof that things were changing. To what or where I cannot say. I walked through the snow and headed into town despite knowing most places would be closed.
Whilst waiting at a railway crossing with the boom down I actually started composing a poem in my head that comprised the words; Seppucu, you, guns and fun, ain't no fun, on the run!ain't no haiku..
Poetry?
I sat in a new Cafe, built in the same building as the old Jarnia.Sure, I had walked down these streets so many times and now I felt like a complete stranger. I always hope to run into somebody that I knew from back then but it doesn't happen anymore.
I sat in silence. Listened to people around me talking about tv shows, couples or trivial pursuits.
I have to keep focusing on what is happening.Whatever it is has crept up from nowhere and is taking up a lot of time and energy.
I decided to start Tai Chi as I was feeling like I was tight.
I decided to start writing the book that I'd always wanted to start, with the first sentence cemented years ago being;
{the reason i wrote this book is simple.Everybody has a book in them, or so I heard.}
I decided to finish off the project with the dark room.
I decided to ensure that I enrolled on the refresher course for french.
I decided to start planning trips around the globe.
The list went on and on.It was time to collect the battlers in "club fetma".
I was trying to put more focus on what was going on around me but it wasn't easy.I couldn't drop the question marks.
Friends phoned in the evening and friends being friends I switched mode. Plans were laid to do 2 weeks in the States with my best friend and an acquaintance.They had booked their tickets and would be going some off road driving in the canyon, Moab and we'd kick off in Las Vegas. A busy two weeks and all of us hitting the same age.Good times ahead then.
Now it's late. Reflection time and obviously I have to start looking through the closet and throwing out unwanted items, packing down others and start looking to make space for some new items.
I mean, books, opera, poetry and a lot of reflection.
getting worried Bro.
Otherwise, and to qoute an acquaintance ;
"we call this a 40 år kris...kanske"
áyé
facts are facts, seems like it's time to clean out my emotional closet.
A couple of sms have gone out and come in and once again I face rejection from one end and an open embrace from another, and the funny thing is I reckon I'm simply one of millions who has the same dramas placed on at my front door..difference is in interpretation.
As I've already mentioned from friday evening something changed.I'm coming closer to moving around the corner.Today would be a last day with the kids for a while and I asked them what they wanted to do. They asked if I would take them to an internet cafe in town. Not really something I wanted to do but I decided to take them to their IT mecca and let them play the latest and greatest games, on the condition that we would walk there.
As usual the conversation was great despite being mostly about Bruce Lee and how poor 70's films are.
When we arrived at the cafe we thought it was closed.It looked closed but a bright neon light showed the opening hours and those lights were the brightest items to be seen as indoors it was basically a large dark room filled with pc's and the next generation swearing as their mate had blown up their tank in "battle Zone 2". As sad as it seemed, I paid the monies and gave them an hour in what I conceived as one of Dantes circles of hell.
As I closed the door behind me I noticed a sign on the door that made my heart sink;
"e-sport, sport for all"
The next hour was more proof that things were changing. To what or where I cannot say. I walked through the snow and headed into town despite knowing most places would be closed.
Whilst waiting at a railway crossing with the boom down I actually started composing a poem in my head that comprised the words; Seppucu, you, guns and fun, ain't no fun, on the run!ain't no haiku..
Poetry?
I sat in a new Cafe, built in the same building as the old Jarnia.Sure, I had walked down these streets so many times and now I felt like a complete stranger. I always hope to run into somebody that I knew from back then but it doesn't happen anymore.
I sat in silence. Listened to people around me talking about tv shows, couples or trivial pursuits.
I have to keep focusing on what is happening.Whatever it is has crept up from nowhere and is taking up a lot of time and energy.
I decided to start Tai Chi as I was feeling like I was tight.
I decided to start writing the book that I'd always wanted to start, with the first sentence cemented years ago being;
{the reason i wrote this book is simple.Everybody has a book in them, or so I heard.}
I decided to finish off the project with the dark room.
I decided to ensure that I enrolled on the refresher course for french.
I decided to start planning trips around the globe.
The list went on and on.It was time to collect the battlers in "club fetma".
I was trying to put more focus on what was going on around me but it wasn't easy.I couldn't drop the question marks.
Friends phoned in the evening and friends being friends I switched mode. Plans were laid to do 2 weeks in the States with my best friend and an acquaintance.They had booked their tickets and would be going some off road driving in the canyon, Moab and we'd kick off in Las Vegas. A busy two weeks and all of us hitting the same age.Good times ahead then.
Now it's late. Reflection time and obviously I have to start looking through the closet and throwing out unwanted items, packing down others and start looking to make space for some new items.
I mean, books, opera, poetry and a lot of reflection.
getting worried Bro.
Otherwise, and to qoute an acquaintance ;
"we call this a 40 år kris...kanske"
áyé
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Do I look like a domestic terrorist...
I tried to get an early night knowing I would be up early to take the 0800 flight north, which meant of course two bus trips before I even made the check in.
Everything went to plan apart from waking up at 01.45 and then 05.10. Not sure why, perhaps habit. But I have to admit over the years I've got more and more wary and scared of flying.
Not sure why, maybe it was a friend of mine who is a flight technician at Arlanda told me too many stories about bumps you feel through your rear when landing and taking off.
It's not that I'm not used to flying, I made the trip from Edinburgh to Geneva on my own for over 10 years. I heard somebody says the anxiety comes from growing older, suffice to say every time I do fly I usually get very superstitious and ensure that I let somebody know what to take care of if don't return.
In the past I haven't been the best person to wake up with in the morning. So when walking through the metal detector to be asked to remove my shoes wasn't the best remedy.Added to the fact that I can say what I think I passed the comment "do I look like a frikken terrorist"..
You see, I reckon they're taking the piss. As I was alone walking towards three of them they probably decided to ruin my morning even more.
The reason I say this is simple. Consistency.The last time I caught the same domestic flight the "star gate" protectors made me unpack and remove the toothpaste from my bag, to be put into a separately sealed plastic bag. I was also asked to leave an orange juice that had more than 100ml of fluid..But today they never even mentioned my bag.Not a word.Today it was the humiliation factor of having to remove my shoes. So basically, its a fake.A domestic flight and three people so bored they decide to have a bit of fun.
By this time I'd surprised myself by already finishing the fiction book that I had started the evening before.This is a first for me. I have already replaced it with a book from the same author and a tip sent to me by somebody who obviously knows me better than I do.
I've had the pleasure of spending the day with my wonderful sons, whose youth make every conversation an adventure and memorable.
Today I was asked how old I was when the tv was invented..as well as why did Dolph wear mascara and every time Tia Carrerra came on naked they made a sound and looked away..i suppose watching "angel" in lingerie getting beheaded by a yakuzu warrior was a bit much but luckily they looked away.Didn't expect that to happen..
Our night has ended on a classic, "Way of the Dragon" with Bruce lee.
A proud father watches his two sons watch their first Bruce Lee just as i did in the 70's, as well as the cruelest of films featuring Fu Manchu. My grandmother used to set up the spare bed in her living room and let me watch these films when I was 7 years old on a small tv.Black and white of course. And I do miss those days and my grandmother. perhaps it's also from having my sons around me that makes me think back to when I was young and naive.
And now of course they want to follow the path of the dragon, which is of course better than chasing the Dragon, a heroin addicts biggest problem.Why? 'cos you never catch a Dragon..
It hasn't been an entire day of "Power Windows".Both Tv and Pc have been replaced by conversation.The only kind of conversation you can have with your own two sons about important aspects and less important aspects of life. The variation and topics cover an immense range and it's important to let them find solutions for themselves and not try and brainwash them with my own ideals.However, we do enjoy fighting each other physically into submission and they have been raised with Scottish character. Should be interesting when they're older as they do not embrace jantes law through their own judgements which is always interesting when it comes to getting notes home from school and the following phone discussions..
áyé
Everything went to plan apart from waking up at 01.45 and then 05.10. Not sure why, perhaps habit. But I have to admit over the years I've got more and more wary and scared of flying.
Not sure why, maybe it was a friend of mine who is a flight technician at Arlanda told me too many stories about bumps you feel through your rear when landing and taking off.
It's not that I'm not used to flying, I made the trip from Edinburgh to Geneva on my own for over 10 years. I heard somebody says the anxiety comes from growing older, suffice to say every time I do fly I usually get very superstitious and ensure that I let somebody know what to take care of if don't return.
In the past I haven't been the best person to wake up with in the morning. So when walking through the metal detector to be asked to remove my shoes wasn't the best remedy.Added to the fact that I can say what I think I passed the comment "do I look like a frikken terrorist"..
You see, I reckon they're taking the piss. As I was alone walking towards three of them they probably decided to ruin my morning even more.
The reason I say this is simple. Consistency.The last time I caught the same domestic flight the "star gate" protectors made me unpack and remove the toothpaste from my bag, to be put into a separately sealed plastic bag. I was also asked to leave an orange juice that had more than 100ml of fluid..But today they never even mentioned my bag.Not a word.Today it was the humiliation factor of having to remove my shoes. So basically, its a fake.A domestic flight and three people so bored they decide to have a bit of fun.
By this time I'd surprised myself by already finishing the fiction book that I had started the evening before.This is a first for me. I have already replaced it with a book from the same author and a tip sent to me by somebody who obviously knows me better than I do.
I've had the pleasure of spending the day with my wonderful sons, whose youth make every conversation an adventure and memorable.
Today I was asked how old I was when the tv was invented..as well as why did Dolph wear mascara and every time Tia Carrerra came on naked they made a sound and looked away..i suppose watching "angel" in lingerie getting beheaded by a yakuzu warrior was a bit much but luckily they looked away.Didn't expect that to happen..
Our night has ended on a classic, "Way of the Dragon" with Bruce lee.
A proud father watches his two sons watch their first Bruce Lee just as i did in the 70's, as well as the cruelest of films featuring Fu Manchu. My grandmother used to set up the spare bed in her living room and let me watch these films when I was 7 years old on a small tv.Black and white of course. And I do miss those days and my grandmother. perhaps it's also from having my sons around me that makes me think back to when I was young and naive.
And now of course they want to follow the path of the dragon, which is of course better than chasing the Dragon, a heroin addicts biggest problem.Why? 'cos you never catch a Dragon..
It hasn't been an entire day of "Power Windows".Both Tv and Pc have been replaced by conversation.The only kind of conversation you can have with your own two sons about important aspects and less important aspects of life. The variation and topics cover an immense range and it's important to let them find solutions for themselves and not try and brainwash them with my own ideals.However, we do enjoy fighting each other physically into submission and they have been raised with Scottish character. Should be interesting when they're older as they do not embrace jantes law through their own judgements which is always interesting when it comes to getting notes home from school and the following phone discussions..
áyé
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