Such a lovely man.

Another rant. You're welcome. I seem to come across knob-heads a lot these days...

I took the bus to Oslo a week ago, give or take a few days, from Skjeldsvik in Skien.
We were told we'd have to wait for another bus because this one was jam packed with baddies, which is fine, because you know, it happens.
The helpful bus driver telling us this asked us where we were going, and I answered "Oslo" in belief that the Oslo area was included in this and it wasn't a description exclusive to the bus terminal.
When the new bus came, he took our luggage and put it in the bus.

What a nice guy. He could steal our luggage now if he really wanted to... Ah, I know his face, I thought happily whilst boarding the bus.

The drive in itself wasn't too bad if you don't count boringness, but when I got to the stop in Lysaker (WHICH IS OSLO AS FAR AS I'M AWARE), I soon discovered that the helpful bus driver had put my luggage in on the wrong side...
Shit.
I told the current bus driver this, and he got mad and said "Well we can't take it out here! Cars drive by like maniacs here! At a 100 km/h! They could chop your legs off!"
I asked "Well... What do I do..?" with my heart sinking, knowing I would have to call my aunt who was picking me up from there, and having to face her wrath.
He retorted "You will have to come with us to the next stop. Get on the bus now."
I answered "I need to call someone, I'm meant to be picked up!" and started calling her.
He furiously wheezed "What are you doing!? Get on the bus! You are wasting our time!" Which is fair, I probably was, but he could have been more polite and actually being helpful going about this whole thing instead of biting my head off.

Whilst on the phone I walked towards the hatch where the luggage was, I tried to open it, as a last-try to get my luggage, he stormed over. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?" he spat viciously.
Was he about to fucking punch me!? I was actually a little scared of the man.
I said, trying to be calm (probably failing, my lid was boiling pretty fiercely at this point, so my replies weren't exactly sugar sweet) "Can I try and drag it out myself, from this side?"
He opened it (thank god) and I managed to struggle it out between girders and other luggage.
(I was sure he would close the hatch behind me and kidnap me to the other stop whilst I was in there... That man was not stable.)

Well out of that exhaust-filled hell-hole, I was stopped.
Ah, you liked me so much, you'd like to converse further? Brilliant.
"Why did you say 'yes' when I asked you if you were going to the bus terminal?"
"You never asked me!" I replied, in a clearly annoyed tone of voice, I'll admit.
"Oh yes, when you boarded on Fokserød (a busstop 1-2 hours away from Skjelsvik? Maybe? Not too sure, but it is a pretty nice while between them), I asked you if you were going to the bus terminal and you answered yes." he retorted.

Fokserød?
Yep, this man is pulling strings out of thin air.

I answered truthfully (and rather angrily) that "I boarded on Skjeldsvik, and I was never asked." where he retorted that "No, I asked everyone."
"Well you certainly didn't ask me"
My aunt had arrived then, shouting my name, so I just left, as he ran into the bus, racing away.

I have never experienced this level of professionalism.
Sarcasm.


The company apologised, though, which is appreciated.
However, the rather poor excuse of him being "so scared of what would happen, resulted in high adrenalin in his body" they can take back with a "fuck you."

"Looking back we see that this could have been solved differently"
YA THINK?

So that was today's rant. MorWay buss express (name slightly altered) can suck my respective balls.

THE JOURNEY OF LIFE!

Apart from the extreme sarcasm of the title..:  It seems that I wasn't completely done travelling.
Will stay in Skien a couple of days, with my best friend, Malene (Link to blog), before I proceed to Oslo and then back to Swansea. Which will be good. Hopefully will get to see sisters and friends, pimps and hoes, bangers and mash.... You know, the usual.
It's a shame that the stay down south was cut so short, and there were a couple of people I'd like to see that I didn't get to, unfortunately.
But "shit happens" as they say.
"Can't go die in a bush over the smallest obstacles", as they also like to say. 

It is also my 25th birthday. Fucking hell. 25 years! That's mental!
I'm old!
Old and decrepit.
Malene and I will probably have a "jolly good time" with our pipes, hats and whiskey. Because we're now both old. Yeah that's right, I'm calling you old, Malene. You old fart.
Yes, cane's at the ready, glasses at our disposal.
Checking each other's hair for grey's in the style of monkeys...
Ohh yeah, I forgot about the wrinkles. It's very important to examine those bastards. And naturally moan about them.
Moaning about wrinkles is the best cure for them.

When in doubt: Moan.

Joys of travel.

I'm here to tell you about the joys of travelling and what to bring on your adventures.
That's right. Brace yourself.

For this you will need: 
1x suitcase
1x chainsaw
2x pants
5x tissues
1x hygiene gel containing alcohol
1x moisturiser
2x handcuffs
1x whip
1x book
4x hair-bands
17x knives hidden around on your body (preferably plastic)
1x wire, type barbed
1x computer
1x list of complete and utter bollocks

There's nothing better than to sit in a train carriage with a rather, let's say rambunctious child, or children... Listening to their parents trying to shut them up, then retaliating by screaming even louder.
That happened to me. A train-cart with two screaming kids and a baby. Jumping out the window was looking particularly tempting that time. The mother couldn't even be arsed to try and make her kids shut up, which was delightful.
If this happens to you, I suggest you lure these little monsters with you into the train toilet, pretending to be their mother or something on the way there and enjoy tying them up with their face in the toilet itself, leave them there and enjoy the train ride in peace. You should possibly also wear a hood or something and make sure you don't leave any fingerprints, at this point... I'm not sure that is completely legal.
It's also probably the most attention they've ever got, bless them.
Neglect is a beautiful thing.

Ah, kids. Enchanting creatures.
I say 'creatures' with the greatest respect for their parents.
And of course sitting down until your bum goes numb, your hands covered in what you hope to be your own sweat and not a million other people's ...gunk...
When you finally arrive or get closer to your destination, this passive state has made you worn out, all clumsy when you walk (because you no longer can feel your arse or thighs) and uncertain of life itself.
You could probably add sanity to that too, actually.

That last piece of stretch between you and home/hotel/friend's house/whatever seems so close, yet so far away. You just can't wait until you get there so you can finally wash your hands and blow that god damn nose of yours!
That's right.
Because over the course of your journey, all sorts of black shit has sneaked up in there.
Unless you snort cocaine, I guess...
I actually have no idea what the mucus of a cocaine-user look like, I was just making a joke because cocaine is white and the exhaust-city-travel-dust isn't.
HAHA GREY SNOT!
Apparently that happens a lot when you live in a city.
Not the cocaine snorting, but the grey snot... There probably is a lot of cocaine abuse too though, which is of course, unfortunate. But you can't really do much about that, now, can you. Who will they listen to, in all honesty? You? The random blabbering idiot or the nice familiar warm embrace that is their addiction?

Sweating profusely whilst getting sick > feeling fine with the occasional buzz? Definitely.

So, Billy, what have you learnt today? That's right, don't ever try to save your fellow human beings. Because they think you are a bee.
Why a bee?
Because they are bee-utiful, that's why.

Oh dear.
I guess this is what happens when I decide to update my blog at 4 am...

Second year

It's the last night in Swansea, now, and this year I've met so many incredible people. I can't believe the second year of university in Britain is over! One year left!
Only one measly little year!
It's breaking my cold little stone heart. I love the people here, (well, most of them) they are almost like family. Like a lovely lovely bunch of pervy-minded family members. Those fucking bastards.
Done so much fun, enjoyed this year so much.
Found a bunch of pictures summing it up this year without too many people in them, as asking a buttload of people just before posting this bastard of a post to put them on my blog is too much of a hassle at this moment in time and space. Will probably do one later though, when the need for their attention is unbearable, and another second without will surely make me whither away.

And without sarcasm now...
Ce ça, les photos extraordinaire!
(Because it couldn't get more obnoxious, no. I needed to add that bit of French to make sure I came across a colossal tit.)

Bored

Perils of performing

Sanity

108!

Beach-time wisdom

Townhill Campus

Señor Lemón

A Doll's House! (Literally)

Ciwi the pirate

PILLOW FORT!

Don't blink. Blink and you're dead.

Constitution Hill is blue this early, apparently.

The last couple of days have been sad, the third years are leaving and will probably never see some of them again, which is naturally sad, like it was the year before.
This year's third-years were a lot more sociable than they were last year when they were second years, I noticed. Which I'm happy about, as I got to meet some interesting new characters. Very talented people.
It's mental that we're up now, for Unknown Pleasures and other major projects. I can't believe it's been two years already. It is literally blowing my tiny little mind to pieces thinking about that.

It's been a great fucking year. Of course it's had its fair share of drama, but with this energetic bunch of people this close together... It's bound to happen.
Living with some of them has been pretty annoying at times, but I can honestly say I enjoyed it more than not. All in all it was only the cleaning that was my biggest beef with them. But they are grand as all hell. Love them all to bits.

So, now it is back to Norway, hopefully getting a job for the summer.
I really hope to see my uni family again soon, those wonderful bastards.
Well. Enough soppy for one post.
Will have to write an angry letter next with a lot of swearing to make up for it.
It's not easy being green.