Mensch or Übermensch? You choose!

There is something so very sad about this. How actual people can be either real, or figments of someone's imagination depending on what suffix you use.

Saturday Night's Allright (for sleeping)

As soon as Andreas falls asleep he becomes The Amazing Velcro Man, kittens attached everywhere. Or, well, the singular in this case, the other one has passed out on the floor from too much cat-nip.

It's a slow night.

The more you know.

Fun facts:

In Britain, the dental hygiene system is very poor. This, in addition to a British love of custard, makes for very yellow teeth. This is why British humor is more of the ironic kind rather than slapstick so as to encourage a playful sneer and deter toothy laughs.

In Sweden, about 10% of the population is called Inga. Some might think this confusing, but considering the fact that Sweden is very sexually emancipated and sleeping around is not uncommon, it is rather an advantage to be able to pick two girlfriends with the same name so as to avoid calling the wrong name mid-coitus.

The Caribbean islands are part of North America. One of these islands is called Guadeloupe.

"Despite the plentiful flow of rum there you will seldom see drunk locals. Nor is the male population high often, like [you would see] on many other Caribbean islands; you will feel safe at night." (swedish original highlighted below)

facsimile: Aftonbladet, Author Gunnar Andersson.

I wish I knew what this Gunnar Andersson looked like. I'd like to put a face to the name of the person that compresses the world into such a neat, accessible portion. Unfortunately there are many Gunnar Anderssons out there on google's image search, and to tell you the truth, I do not have the time to try find any distinguishing features. Nor do I have time to make a composite picture of all the Gunnar Anderssons out there. So for the sake of simplicity, I found a picture that will just have to do for the time being.



I suppose I don't have to point out that this is not the actual Gunnar Andersson.

I mean, it's just an ass.

The new Swedish railway ticket pricing system - a.k.a "The Opposite Game!"

Hmm. Let me think, let me think.

First class with its bigger seats and free internet to surf while nibbling on a bit of roquefort, as opposed to the MORE expensive second-class tickets with cramped seats, no internet and the rabble who just smell of roquefort.

I don't know.

If only there were a third option that would perhaps sweeten the deal. One even more expensive than second class but also slightly less comfortable. Looks like Sweden needs to break the illusion of it being a leader in modernity and look to Pakistan for help:



It's hard being a thrill-seeking sado-masochist in this cold, cold place. All this money and no place to fall off of.

And how big are you, little friend?

When I worked at the hardware store I found something very, very satisfying about having to take out my carpenters' rule to help a customer. The action always warranted a barely audible sigh - denoting "What, don't You walk around with a carpenters' rule? For shame."

A carpenters' rule is staple when you work in a hardware store, and is seemed to me natural that one would also bring a ruler with one when visiting such a store. Power-tools, vertical panel saws, lawn mowers - I knew nothing about these. But one thing I did know was that you can't use these without a carpenter's rule. You will always need to know how big a piece of wood to cut to mend that roof or the exact angle at which to saw your tree down so that it crushes your arch-nemesis of a neighbor's prize-winning roses. Before you plug in your machine, you will need a trusty carpenters' rule in order to plan your roof, or your revenge.

So all these things, all the power behind the power-tools came to be represented by the ruler for me. A ruler meant that I knew my shit. Whipping it out meant feeling bigger than the other guy.

Accompanying this was always the slightest of frowns to mark the distance between us, a sign of that I was frustrated with his ignorance. Revealing my ruler, however, showed that I would take the time teach him or thing or two anyway. I am nothing if not patient.

I've left the days of hardware-storing (and the cultivating that subtle bothered look) behind me. But I find myself missing my measuring stick now that I'm shopping around for a perfectly-sized MP3 player online and need to translate the measurements into tangible dimensions. Until I found this, that is: the amazing online ruler,which adjusts to the size of your screen. Thirty centimeters of virtual wood. I get just as tickled pink every time I type in the address, smiling at the screen after the obligatory subtle frown of distraction - that must now inevitably precede the appearance of a ruler - passes.

Tried to find a picture of a distracted carpenter to accompany this post, but all google came up with was the distractingly beautiful Charisma Carpenter. Eh, same same.



God bless you, Charisma, for Angel and Buffy.