Wow. It's like being on safari.
I’m sitting in Kalle Kanin’s flat making his smoke filled living room even smokier. Fuck! I just got smoke in my eye! Aaaaargh! And ash all over the snotting keyboard. Cunt-flaps. We’re sat here in total silence waiting for Massevis to show up so we can listen to and evaluate our Easter crime mystery (Watch this space!). We did the maths and worked out that Massevis, despite being massive, is half as many people as Kalle and I are and that him coming here involves far less effort than the two of us trekking all the way to Grønland with Kalle’s stationary PC.
Now Kalle’s hanging up his washing with the plastic clothes pegs he keeps in an old baseball cap on the disused fireplace in the hallway. Nerd. It’s not as if he needs pegs indoors. Is he afraid a tornado is going to pick the lock on his front door, sneak its way inside and clumsily knock over his drying rack with its huge windy arse? I feel I need to have a serious discussion with Mr. Bunny Rabbit about his stormy paranoia.
Anyhoo, I’m sat next to a newspaper that demands attention. Possibly medical.
There’s an almost intersting article about the Natural history museum in Tøyen. “On Tøyen”? No, in Tøyen, surely. Apparently they’ve been waiting 100 years for a second building to store all the dead animals in bottles of vodka. I don’t know about you, but when I find a dead animal in my booze, I normally send it back and expect to get a full refund. In charge of preservation is Pål Lønnve who says that many people find the cadaver jars gross, but he thinks they’re beautiful. His spouse, if existent, clearly has a lot to live up to.
The museum was originally opened for students, but seeing as how students are shit, and how they spend all their money on unprotected food and junk sex, the museum was financially forced to open to the public. In 1910 a third of Kristiania’s population visited the museum. The second third had to stay at home and look after the third third and make the first third’s dinner.
The museum is proud to boast that since then it still has many visitor’s. Especially now that the exhibition of gay animals is in full swing. I’m glad to hear that more and more animals are coming out of the closet, but I’m not convinced they’re not just bum-fucking each other as part of a bet. I’ve yet to witness the exhibition, but find it hard to imagine that it’ll be anything else than a flamingo face fucking another flamingo. Flamingoes are gay.
Finally Lønnve tells whoever drew the shortest straw at the news room about the whales they used to have. Whale bones are, amazingly, full of oil and have a tendency to leak long after the animal is dead. This is exactly what happened, and puddles of flammable oil were tragically set alight by the museum’s collection of stuffed fireflies. Clap. Clap. Clap. Despite this hilarious accident, Lønnve still wants another whale for the museum. Learn form your mistakes man. Get a stuffed cat instead.
Massevis isn’t coming after all. Lazy cunt.
I can’t help but notice that you don’t say that the Easter Crime Mystery is probably going to be rævva, as Jazzgeir has been so careful to point out. Over and over again. Most people would perhaps attribute this to your writing this before you had heard a single clip, and your being too buttscratchingly british to log back in and edit what you said after the crucial fact. I, for one, reject such frivolous theories out of hand, and trust that you are in fact un-bitter that I took our only pair of sound scissors and ran with them, immediately after we were done recording yesterday. I promise I’ll re-cut it tomorrow, and I’ll include some of your lines this time. Even a few of Massevis’s. I’ll have to think about Jazzgeir’s. I wanted to bring out the best side of him, but he’s such an arsecunt
Agreed. I should have logged back on to say how crappy it’s gonna be. But having found that the only comment here is from you, I’m frankly too upset.
not anymore! but the easter crime mystery still blows arse.