Monthly Archives: November 2011

Holy shit, Neil Gaiman

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Weber and Elias sitting in a tree, d-o-c-k-i-n-g s-h-i-p-s. fucking tards!

All-nigther, coffee and portishead is the perfect way to spend your saturday night writing about Max Weber and his pussy posse.
And if I’m seconds from jumping out of my window, my good friend Jeppe thought me something good: Just image Norbert Elias and Max Weber docking ships, since Elias was a jew, right.

With that note, I actually enjoy staying up all night studying again. Good old times when I was a disturbed teen…. now I’m just a disturbed adult….

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glory box

Hi.

Bukowski is waiting for me in bed.

 

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Last night I tried to party like I was 40 years old,

I just felt like sharing a picture with you guys, where I don’t have wrinkles or saggy breasts. Enjoy before it’s too late.

and quite frankly I suddenly felt kinda old hanging out with a bunch of oldies. These people wanted to hear jump around with House Of Pain while me and my friend just really wanted to groove to Bowie. I didn’t get it – since when did 40+ become 16? They drank, they were fucked out of their minds and jumped around like 16 year olds, kissing and hugging each other.

And here was I. 20 years old and looking down on these freaks, wondering how I will be as forty. I really don’t know, quite boring I guess. But one thing I know for sure is 40 is the new 16. You apparently step into puberty again. First time was fucking shitty, so no – I’m not looking forward for puberty vol. 2 wrinkled and with saggy tits.

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this is why you should just shut the fuck up tea-drinking-psycho-fag boy

because of the shit load of shit that comes out of your mouth every-fucking-time you speak

because you should try to get your head out of your fat ass and see the world as it really is

because I just feel like punching you in your sorry face every time you breath

because your dick is unbelievably small

you know what they say: small dicks, small brains.

because I don’t belive in one night stands, but I belive in your mother

because I just felt like smashing you verbally. If you for example didn’t speak I wouldn’t have this problem, you see?

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always listen to your mother, even though that woman is crazy

Everybody told me “You should study psychology”. Even my mom told me to 2 hours after I applied for Anthropology and Ethnology. I kinda got mad at her for saying that because the timing was quite awful. First I thought to myself “You must be fucking with me – I’ve just APPLIED for something else” and 33 seconds later:

“Holy shit, why the fuck didn’t I apply for psychology, you stupid fuck?”

and 47 seconds later:

“It’s okay. I’ve applied for anthro and ethno because of the psychology, I’m gonna get it either way. Don’t worry (I basically lied to chill)”….

And now I feel the urge to study psychology so baaaaaadly. It has always been a possibility, but why I haven’t thought of it, I really don’t know. Maybe because I was afraid that it was too specific compared to anthropology, or maybe because I was way up in my own ass to see clearly. Since I was a little girl medicine was the future, and then I became a teenager with the thought that psychiatry was the answer with medicine… Then I thought I could get the part with psychiatry and psychology in anthropology, just with a little more….AND NOW I HAVE TOTALLY FUCKED IT UP! Oh my fucking jesus christ of maria, why didn’t I just listen to my mother?

I’m so sorry, mom. From now on I will never ever ever EVER be skeptical of your thoughts and ideas.

Fuck I miss my family by the way…………… I miss that hole of mess. Even though it was one chaotic home, I always knew when and what – which direction I was willing to go and what I wanted to do with my life. And since I’ve moved to Copenhagen everything seems so blurry.

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the guy, the girl and the gay

Once I had a friend, who seemed kinda gay but really he wasn’t… so much. He looked gay and he had some collections that screamed “I’m so fucking gay that I’m covered in ass” – you get the point by now, right?

He looked for love in all the wrong girls, and one day he asked me “Why do I always fall in love with the wrong girl?”. I didn’t hesitate one second and said “Because you need to fall in love with the right man. Seriously. You cannot have a tea collection and not be gay”. He looked at me funny.

Once I had a friend, who fell in love with all the fucked up ladies and said to me “I just love crazy-ass girls. I cannot help myself” and then I said “You need some help”. He looked at me funny.

Once I had a friend, who thought he fell in love with all the fucked up ladies, but really he was just way too fucked up himself to notice how non-fucked they were.

This friend is still looking for love.

Good luck, mate.
Or should I say: good luck, girly?

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the key to a happy-semi-shitty life

1. Remember to love yourself with both hands. So much more empowering and you really get some heavy shit rolling.

2. Sometimes you SHOULD just stay at home and play with your private zone.
Quote is stolen from New Order. Fucking great band by the way.

3. A drunk life is a happier life. And then you pay with hangovers. The best investment in by opinion.

4. We pay for life with death, so everything in between should be free. Just get your fucking groove on, man. And make the time to listen to Bill Hicks. That is a man with some serious truths about life, y’all.

5. Just shut the fuck up sometimes. Just do it. Shut. It.

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