ODINESQUE OBSERVATIONS

Tonight is the night. That’s rights. Bayern Munich are playing...

Wed, 03 Apr 2013 00:12:19 +0100

Tonight is the night. That’s rights. Bayern Munich are playing host to Juventus in what has been dubbed ‘the most exciting match of the UCL quarter-finals’. (By me.) You might even call this a final-worthy clash, but at least this way we get 180 minutes instead of 90. Which will basically be just about enough time to induce cardiac arrest.

Both teams are hoping to transfer their domestic dominance to the European stage, both hungry to claim the trophy for the first time in over a decade… BUT WHO WILL COME OUT ON TOP?! Don’t any of you pretend not to be excited.

Bayern have been incredible this season, more or less breaking every single record there is to break at home in the Bundesliga. They’re fresh off a 9-2 victory against HSV, and yet something about this corner-avoidance-mission is making me nervous. Thus is falls to me to consult the enchanted, prophetic crystal ball dangling from my keys for a measure of confidence. An amulet adorned with the crest of the mighty German football giants.

What say you?

….

Okay, so I never managed to finish this post before the actual game. Met up with Colgate for the first time in months, and ended up arriving late at the pub where I was meeting my flatmate. I told him it’d be 2-1, but Bayern were rampant. They played with the intensity of a million collapsing galaxies, and now my oracular talisman is telling me that the second leg is a cinch. As are the semi-finals… AND the… OK, we’ll see.

This old man didn’t care for the eastern brown snake...

Sat, 16 Mar 2013 12:35:42 +0000

This old man didn’t care for the eastern brown snake obstructing his path to the loo. So what do you do when the second most poisonous land snake gets in your way? Kick it in the face, is what you do. In the most nonchalant fashion.

Yet more evidence that snakes are unequivocally detestable and worthy of only the foulest abuse.

When bad hair happens to reckless people, part two

Sat, 16 Mar 2013 11:12:00 +0000

The severity of what had happened didn’t sink in until three days later when calamity struck once...

When bad hair happens to reckless people, part one

Sat, 16 Mar 2013 11:08:00 +0000

[The following is part of a letter to a friend, whose mood I was trying to elevate.] I know what...

An abominable collection myself and the people I look like. From...

Sat, 16 Mar 2013 11:07:43 +0000

An abominable collection myself and the people I look like. From left to right: Exhibit A-I

Audio

Wed, 06 Mar 2013 23:58:10 +0000

A glowing review

Wed, 06 Mar 2013 21:49:00 +0000

One of the twins looked a little upset when they arrived home from school yesterday. Anxious to know...

Audio

Wed, 27 Feb 2013 20:43:00 +0000

Audio

Fri, 22 Feb 2013 15:15:37 +0000

BED MAMA

Fri, 22 Feb 2013 00:25:00 +0000

A charitable and kind-hearted woman, my mother has an uncontrollable habit of inviting people into...

The twins were in a fantastic mood when my mother and I arrived...

Thu, 21 Feb 2013 14:36:04 +0000

The twins were in a fantastic mood when my mother and I arrived to collect them from their school bus yesterday. You could tell, because when they get excited about something, coherent sentences are replaced by a torrent of intelligible, slurred words. Or let’s put it this way: my comprehension of Swedish is better when it’s not spoken at the speed of which a teenage boy closes down his browsers when his mother walks in. When they get excited, usually reciting something from Star Wars, their stories sound a bit like this to me:

“Sldjfiaiej[afs…. STAR WARS…… sdfjsiodfjsoeja… STAR WARS!!!!! Srfserser……. OBI-WAN KENOBI.”

Anyway, Gustav managed to communicate that he REALLY wanted to tell us something. (Which was also partly obvious from his tugging on my right arm for attention, and just generally looking as if words were about to physically pry apart his lips to escape in an unstoppable stream.)

I wanted to tell him to breathe deeply first, but I didn’t think he’d care much for my unsolicited counsel. I wondered what could possibly incite this next level hullabaloo. Was he going to give an oral presentation on how to combat Chinese cyber theft? Or was he going to prove the Riemann Hypothesis????? I looked at him with baited breath.

“A little dog found money on the floor and asked his nan if he could have it”, he started off, alluding neither to cyber war, nor prime numbers.

“His nan then told him not to pick things up from off the floor”, he continued.

“The little dog then asked if he could pick up the banana peel lying on the pavement, and her answer was no different this time.”

“Shortly afterwards, the old lady tripped and fell to the ground. ‘Will you help me up’, she asked. The little dog then said ‘I don’t pick things up from off the floor’” my brother concluded, with barely controlled glee.

Rapturous laughter then ensued. The boys were in stitches. I thought it was pretty funny too, mostly because I hadn’t expected a punch line. Rather than telling a joke, I thought maybe some vicious brat of a fellow school bus passenger had convinced him of the existence of talking dogs. I briefly envisaged having to be the one to refute this magical, wondrous notion, and then accidentally winding up blowing Santa’s cover. And that whole tooth fairy narrative. And then he’d tell his brother, and I’d wind up having to pay for their therapy sessions for years to come.

“Gustav…” I said and looked at him concernedly. “That’s not very nice of the dog not to help his nan.”

My brother then looked at me as if I were a complete ass-clown. “But it’s NOT real. Dogs don’t talk. Don’t you know that?”

Hanging around small children, folks, is both educational AND fun.

The Cheese Mouse got in a right old strop when I told him...

Tue, 19 Feb 2013 19:49:51 +0000

The Cheese Mouse got in a right old strop when I told him we’ll be watching Champions League tonight. He refuses to get behind Bayern, and it’s proving a source of strife. He says he’ll only watch the Serie A, so I’ve left him in the fridge where he’ll hopefully keep himself entertained. It’s like Blondie said.. Love’s nothing but a pain in the ass.

Dissecting the different stages of traffic jam-related trauma

Mon, 18 Feb 2013 15:03:00 +0000

OBLIVION. The thought of being stuck here until your ass grows attached to the seat doesn’t even...

When I came across this green knitted jumper in Copenhagen, I...

Mon, 18 Feb 2013 12:44:38 +0000

When I came across this green knitted jumper in Copenhagen, I instantly fell in love. I try not to play favourites with my knitwear, but this particular model is so soft. And chunky. And green. (I like green.) Taking a cue from the NRA, I’ll give it up when you pry it from my COLD, DEAD ~~hands~~ SKIN.

… Also documented here is my favourite bracelet. One of the twins made it for me from differently shaped, chunky, wooden pearls.

One of 2012’s most popular underground dance tracks, and...

Sun, 17 Feb 2013 19:10:59 +0000

One of 2012’s most popular underground dance tracks, and probably my favourite of the year. Nearly choked on my Negroni when they played this in the lobby of Hilton Berlin a couple of days ago.

Driven to despair

Sun, 17 Feb 2013 00:04:00 +0000

As I may have mentioned before, I’m Danish. Genetically, or whatever. Without wanting to get into...

James Blake. Beautiful, soulful, haunting.

Tue, 12 Feb 2013 22:32:37 +0000

James Blake. Beautiful, soulful, haunting.

I think it’s fair to say that I haven’t devoted a lot of words...

Fri, 08 Feb 2013 12:15:00 +0000

I think it’s fair to say that I haven’t devoted a lot of words to my love life on here. That’s a) because it’s non-existent, and b) because I’ve been quite happy for that to be the case. I guess I just haven’t met an exact replica of Jeff Buckley yet. It was only when one of my six-year-old brothers told me he doesn’t want me to be lonesome that I started thinking about it.

My sister has her boyfriend, and my parents have each other, so I guess it’s only considerate of him to worry. After all, it’s been almost a year since I was last in a relationship. In an attempt to ameliorate the situation, he bestowed upon me Die Käsemaus (aka the Cheese Mouse, or simply, CM) for company.

The what?

The Cheese Mouse is a promotional stuffed animal that once accompanied a lump of parmesan (my brother’s a fan). He’s imported from Italy, but if you think that means there’ll be a language barrier, you’re gravely mistaken. He’s also proficient in Swedish, smartass. And EVERYONE knows that communication is the key to lasting love.

I remain hopeful that I’ll eventually have the pleasure of meeting and courting a modern Buckley (Jr.).

(That’s you I’m looking at, James Franco!)

But till then, I think I’ve found satisfactory temporary companionship. The Cheese Mouse is a little shorter than I’d have preferred, but on the plus side, he’s not very demanding. Quite docile, really. He wears brown cords, a red cap and sneakers. Cute, no?

You think I’m skirting the edges of madness, don’t you? Oh, whatever. I’ll be over here with my stuffed toy, and chocolate ice cream… listening to Al Green.

Yet more ways to irritate a bartender: 8 things not to say or ask

Thu, 07 Feb 2013 16:25:00 +0000

Bartenders are paid, in part, to pretend to care about you. They’re paid to ask how you’re doing,...

Optical delusions

Thu, 07 Feb 2013 03:09:45 +0000

My six-year-old little brother needs glasses. Apparently … Last week as we went on a quest to...