Hopeless Intentions: Trolldis during Academy Awards

In my little world, intentions constantly.. let's say it in a nice way compared to what it really is - gets totally fucked up. And this does not only apply to intentions that argue with my lazy lifestyle. You know how cleaning the apartment is a good idea before you actually pick up the bucket and start washing? Or how training tomorrow is a good idea today? That's exactly what I'm talking about. Unfortunately, it also applies when I don't want it to. Like, for instance, when the Oscars were going on TV.

As you probably know the Academy Awards were a couple of nights ago, and then too, I had high intentions. (Not only in what I'm about to tell you - but I've been wanting to write this blog-post since the Academy Awards - point proven? Too well.). So the whole intention-game consists of what I intended to do, and what I did. And this is how it looked at the night of the Oscars.

What I intended to do
Stay up till 02.00, follow it with graciousness and full attention, in my imagination I looked elegant, very awake. With a cup of tea. I did not look like a troll, I did not have a hairdo of a, and please forgive the lack of creativity, troll. Breath like an angel, perfect makeup. So yes - nothing like I normally look at 2 in the night.

What I did:
Struggled like crazy to stay awake, fell asleep at 01.00, but my clever self had thought of that scenario, and the alarm went off at 01.50. Desperately forced my eyes to remain open till 02.00, though I suspect that I was actually asleep, just with open eyes. And then there's a lot of blah-blah, and Sandman had evil plans the whole evening already, and hid under the bed. So we fought. When the action finally started half an hour later, Sandman had kinda won the match. What a bastard. So what did I do? Sleep like a rock -  DAMN YOU Sandman. Hair like a troll, snoring. And though I cannot describe how I look when I am sleeping - I can guarantee you that it is no pretty sight. Not my most gracious Oscars, but what the hell - someone's gotta make the others bloom, ne?

But luckily my boyfriend had a back-up plan, and recorded it, so we had the opportunity of watching it the next day as well. As you can imagine, you still want the action, the excitement and the full glamour the day after. So no, you don't wanna read how many Oscars this and that film got at the front page of some tabloid, nor what this and that hottie had on. So the hours before watching the Oscars yesterday were hell for me. All potential spoilers hover around you like a hawk. TV remained off, Facebook was off limits, Twitter was creepy. And when it came to the news, well.. Anything could have happened yesterday, World War III could have started, dinosaurs could have arrived with huge spaceships from Mars, eating the American continent, and even chops out of Europe. And I wouldn't have known anything. But luckily it did not, and after a long struggle, around 20.00 it had all been worth it, as Colin Firth got the Oscar for Best Male Actor, and The King's Speech all in all 4 Oscars, I will go to bed for the next week with a huuuge smile all over my face.

For those of you who didn't hear about The King's Speech, do yourself a favour and check it out. Here's a trailer for you:



Enjoy! Good night, and I hope your intentions don't always fuck up as badly as mine.

PS: Really! Watch The King's Speech - It's awesome, it has everything. It's educational. Colin Firth. Funny. Touching. Great. Go go!

I hope you did not find what you were looking for

I hope that it does not make me a bad person, actually I have several arguments (I would say strong arguments) that I am not a bad person:

One: I have the dignity to hide it when I laugh of people falling on their butt on the ice.
Two: When the punker-burglars on the main station runs after me asking for money (that they end up using on beer, beer and more beer) I do not ask them to fuck off. (I know, readers, an impressive amount of self-control)
Three:  When Jehovah's Witnesses ring the doorbell, I do not slam the door in their faces.

Are you thinking what I'm thinking? "What is she even doing still? She has clearly proved her goodness already." I could have listed a million reasons why I'm not a bad person, but I have better ways to spend my time. Old readers already know that I'm a giver, and for new readers: I'm a giver. So the whole "Is Trolldis a bad or good person" is not really a question anymore, agreed?

... either way, I still hope you didn't find what you were looking for - this applies to people finding my blog through searching terms like "panties made in Germany", "drunk Germans Lederhosen", "men in manties", and the terms "drunk German" and "lederhosen" in more combinations then you even would think existed, and when it includes the word "sexy", even more combinations come into light . Because - if you did search terms like this, and you did find what you were looking for, this automatically makes statement about my blog, that I would prefer was never made. Not only about my blog, but subsequently me as a blogger. If I were even half as fascinated with panties, and then especially manties, as most of my readers (ok, so not "readers", more "most of the random people stumbling randomly upon my blog searching random, and at times pervy words") I would personally send applications to the nearest psychowards begging them to take me in and fix my head, and I believe I would also get a spot pretty fast. We're talking sick, sick fetishes, ladies and gentlemen. I will not give you any percentage of pervy hits here, those of you who know me personally probably know that my strongest talents are not within maths, those of you who do not: I suck in maths. But who needs maths when they are such pure, good souls?

This a final proof of my striking lack of intelligence. What do you all think happens when writing a blog-post containing words that already bring many doubtful individuals to finding my blog? That's right, it is even more likely that these terms lead to my blog. If I continue like this I'll come before "manties.net" when someone search "manties" on Google. So, the chances are doubled that mantie- and lederhosen-lovers, people wanting sexy drunk Germans on Octoberfest, and other pervs end up right here. Plus, in this blog-post I also applied the word "butt" and "Jehovas Witness" - are we talking a fucked up new fetish? I will be sure to announce when someone stumbled upon my blog with these words. And if you're the person: Hi there, please send me a mail and let me write a blog about you. Love, Trolldis.

I suppose it's time to go to bed before I manage to write more crap, or fall asleep on my keyboard and post a blog written uniquely with my head, perhaps assisted by my nose.

Good night, dear readers! See you next time, then I'll try not to be overly tired and write crap. Promise. :)

Saying Goodbye

It seems like yesterday. We sat around the table, drinking beer, laughing, having fun. Little did I know, that this evening would lead to something dreadful. Little did I know that what seemed like a triviality, would have major consequences.

It was early in the semester, plans, hopes, dreams and intentions. Things were new for us all, new subjects, new time tables, new challenges. I personally had nothing to do with what was decided that evening, I was just the observer. I remained silent when I should spoken, still when I should scream "No, for the love of GOD, NO!". Knowing that you could have done something makes it even harder to say goodbye. But it is inevitable, at a certain point you simply cannot refuse to open your eyes - see the facts - accept the facts.

So here I am, trying to enjoy the last evening with you. Somehow it is hard to realise that you will no longer be here tomorrow. Hard to realise cause I do not want to realise it. Please, give me one more day - one more week. Why now?

I'm drawing my fingers through you one last time, not wanting to let go. But I have to face the truth. You will not even die a graceful death. Tomorrow you will be cut off by an electric razor, fall in a pile of dead hair, and later be flushed down the toilet - what a fate! You will be gone - and my boyfriend will end up looking like an egg. But in all the sorrow, it is important to see, that it is not over. Hair grows out again. The world goes on. However, before this happen: if you will see five eggheads wandering around the streets of Leipzig, you know that they all sat around the table the very night in question - the night that would change their lives more than they knew.

So what's the deal here? What happened this special evening? I think the time has come to tell you, readers: This very evening my boyfriend and his friends came up with this wacko idea of shaving their heads if they were to pass a certain exam at the end of the semester. And great news - they passed. And here I am - about to be the girlfriend of what looks like an egg. A charming egg - he'll get that. I'll just have to think every day that it's hair - it grows out again.

Well, well.. Now I'm spending the rest of the evening with my soon-to-be egg, parting with his hair, in other words: Goodbye.

New years rant

Hello, dear readers. I know you're probably totally pissed cause I didn't wish you a happy new year yet? I hope you weren't all grumpy till now... Well, let me lighten up the rest of your year. Happy New Year! The new year resolution this year is to wish happy new year next year, when the year is actually still new. And you know loosing weight, start doing sports, eating healthier, be a good student, [insert all clichés] All are doomed, I know.

I'm always surprised the blog lets me log in, I kind of expect every time that I'll get some kinda refuse since the blog banned me.If I were this blog I'd totally do so, I refuse to believe that lousier blog owners exists. Oh yes, that should be another new years resolution, take better care of my blog, feed it a bit. Not to mention entertain my perhaps 3 readers, if they didn't ban me as well.

Is it a valid excuse that I've been busy? You know, reading books, Jane Eyre, Sense & Sensibility, writing essays about Violent Video Games and Children, and about Sonnet 128, and about Stephen King's "Last Rung on the Ladder". Is it at least a bit valid? (and I feel that you all can be a bit kind here, karma, people, KARMA!)

Fact is, readers, I'm turning old and boring, and the day that you'll realize, I'll be left here, with only a blog. No, actually, that's pretty much a lie, cause then I'll abandon the blog as well. So the blog will be left here, with nothing but old crap, and the occasional person stumbling in her by mistake looking for Sexy Germans in Lederhosen (and someone googling this term did indeed end up in my blog somehow). And it will die a sad death amongst endless loads of internet crap, what a destiny! I can always hope that you, readers, turn old and boring with me, and somehow find the old and boring crap I will write entertaining in your state of being old and boring. But I guess I shouldn't push my luck too far, I somehow suspect that it will come back biting me in the ass then.

Now, look what happens when a person writes just to write, so the blog does not end up hating me, and we'll always have a good relationship. A question just comes to mind, if a blog were to hate, would it hate most for occasional poopy blog posts, or no blog posts at all? I suppose it depends, if the poopy one kinda feeds it, I suppose it's just full and happy. So conclusion: A occasional poopy blog post is ok. (This is mostly to calm down my own mind when I wake up tomorrow and read all the crap I wrote yesterday, it's allright, Trolldis! Your blog is happy, that's aall that counts! Plus, if it is even poopier than you remember, you can always delete it.)

Now. That's enough crap for one evening. Once again, happy new year, and I hope not all new years resolutions went to hell already.

To make the time pass

The other day, just to make time pass, I had some fun with google. I googled my name together with the name of friends and boyfriend, to see which results came up. Many results were obvious, and just plain boring, God knows how many time I ended up in the taxlists (and.. I will never ever get the point of those. It`s plain stupid and just that.) but one result was kinda interesting. This site came up when I googled the name of me and my boyfriend together.

Girl baby names beginning on the letter T. Fact is.. Both my name and my boyfriends name is there. As you can probably guess, I might have teased him a little bit (you know as well as I, that this is not true).

Oh, and Eva, if you read this, when googling our names together a bunch of sites comes up showing people with the name "Eva Thordis" or "Thordis Eva". I`ve been thinking, and the only two excuses that can be used from the parents is. 1) "We were drunk", or 2) "We think it sounded nice". As all of you see, it has to be excuse one, cause excuse two... come on, it just doesn`t work.

EDIT: When I googled it again it turns out that also a "boy baby names beginning on the letter T" show up. And also turns out that both of our names are there.......

Why this tiny writing you ask? Well.. make a guess.

Rawkin' in.. is it slippers?

First of all there's a word I really don't know in English, and maybe you can help me. All sorts of online dictionaries call these slippers:

Are they?

Cause for me slippers are these:

The same word in English covers all? .. I'll just assume that then. Please don't kill me if I'm wrong ^^

Getting to the point.. soon, I promise. Yesterday I was out walkin the streets of Leipzig as I encounter a store with tons and tons of cute slippers. Of course this makes me stop and laugh abit, and touch them. (You really can't NOT touch them, they were too cute and soft for that.), and after felling in love with one, boof, there comes another.

Now what I saw first was this, for me it was darn cute (and even more dorky) until later.

Homer is cool, can't hide that. But what I realized now later is that he really looks like.. ehrm.. he looks abit like homer (I'll give him that), and much like pollen-allergies. Since pollen allergies really isn't the thing I like most in this world, he's kinda uncool compared to the coolness that yet is to come. (but you've gotta admit, you'd still feel rather cool crashing a party with these monsters on the feet? hm? hm?)

Anyway, I keep lookin, and this lil dog (I'll call him Herman) steals my attention:

Everyone who knows me is aware of the fact that I love dogs much more than an average dude on the street, and therefore I run towards him and embrace him (in the way you can embrace a slipper in a store, I'm neither stupid, nor a perv, nor a psyco). There's something with this face that I fall for (and it's not the tiredness). But sorry Herman, you're not my choise when it comes ter slippers today.

Mr Froggy here caught my eye, and yes, it was cause he looks dorky. But I swear, in real life he looks less dorky and more cute.

It kinda looks like he's trying to tell you something, doesn't it? Looks like he kinda pointed me out to buy him. Think he misunderstood something, puppydogeyes goes on puppies, and in some cases they also work on my boyfriend, but... it just doesn't work for frogs, sorry. Nevertheless I fell for this lil sucker, too bad for him that the slipperlove of my life was lying riiiiight next to him.

YOU ARE A TRUE BEAUTY! Sorry Homer, sorry Herman, and sorry lil' mr Froggy, you can go somewhere else. You are nothing but servants when you see the queen of the ball. Klara. Not sure about what to buy me for christmas? You don't have to wonder anymore.You can't even imagine how much it hurt me to just leave her there. Clearly one of the hardest moments in my life... But Klara, we WILL meet again. I promise you!

Q: Which would you buy?

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Should we assume that Rudolphs poop is red?

This blog will be about my thoughts of the children-tv of today. I happened to see a program when waiting for the news, and it was not pleasant.

The intro-melody has lyrics like this.

juck, jucky-juck
jucky, jucky, juck
juck, jucky-juck,
jucky, jucky-juck

As you understand already, this show is doofy. After the intro a dude comes with a serving-plate.. This dude is a children-tv moderator, so you know.. overhyper and acting all stupid. So he is overenthusiastic, and the plate he's coming with has the riddle of the day inside. You cannot see it since it's covered with some kind of top on it, but this is unimportant. What's important is what this show is about...

He takes off the top, and what is on the plate? A pile of shit. Not shit in a transferred meaning, but really. Shit. Poop. Exrement, right there on the plate. To be quite honest you kind of doubt what kind of dude this is when he can be SO enthusiastic over a pile of shit, but ok. He asks "Sooo, does anyone know whos shit this is? Hm? Anyone out there?". It pains my soul to think about all the children sitting in their houses watching this screaming out "DOOG!", "SHEEEEP!", "COOOW!", or whichever animal or creature they think took a shit this time.

Mr Hyper Moderator tries to create exitement over the moment where he reveals the great secret behind the pile of shit. Who in the whole wide world might have sat on the plate and released a big, brown and smelly pile of excrement. Or.. I guess we can assume that the moderator hand-plucked it when you see his enthusiasm. Anyway, yes.. the exitement. Shows kids that "yes, sure! it's completely natural to be exited when you see a poop. Overexited, yes, come on! LET'S ALL BE HYPER!"

Let's all be realistic here and see what this does to children. A child that is interested in.. not sports, not music, not games, farms, cars, whatever, no - A child that goes totally banana crazy when he/she sees a pile of poop? And gets hyyper, exited, happy, and.. yes, a pile of shit makes their day. Yep, that is building up intelligence from a small age already. "Mummy! Look! POOOOOOOP!".

I can say right now, that if this continues I won't even LET my child watch this shit. Oh yes, it's gonna watch "Who wants to be a millionare", and when my small angel is old enough, he'll be very smart and win the whole shit - and with this being able to buy his mummy and daddy a very nice car. (of course, by this time the main price in the show is millions and millions higher, and I will get a nice sum myself out of not having let my child watch shit-shows. And yes - I will rub it in the faces of all the parents who has senile kids that knows nothing more than which animal dropped which shit. I will enjoy it too).

Back to the show: When the ass behind the poop is revealed, the moderator dresses up like the animal, and runs around like a reindeer with AD/HD (since the animal of the day was a reindeer). What a great example for children, I feel the headache coming when thinking of this doofy dude.

I wonder... When on earth would a child need to know how reindeer-poop looks? Maybe it's nice to know around christmas, perhaps you can identify Rudolphs poop and then find out approximately when Santa will come. Should we assume that Rudolphs poop is red like his nose? Ask the followers of the poop-show. I have a life, I wouldnt' know.

Congratulations!!

.. to me. My blog have never before had this many people visiting it in one day!

HURRRAAAAAYYYY!

.. yes, it's a big day.

When you can sleep as loooong as you want..

.. and wake up at 8, you can get rather grumpy. But what is there to do when a white, bushy minimonster named 'Hope' wakes you up is licking your ears, your toes, your fingers, and walks in your face? At a certain point in those events kindof wakes you up, and when it's jumping on you wanting to play - there is no chance anymore.

So if you ever see this lil creature, and if you would like to sleep.. Then lock your doors! But.. doors locked or not - I'm certain that Hope manages to sneak into your heart anyway. You'll love her EVEN though she wakes you up - I can confirm that.

What do you say when..

.. your brother gets driven home from a party by the police?

1) What the FUCK did you do now?
2) Again?
3) What a nice policeman!

I followed alternative one.. Until it turns out it was just a nice policeman. You can say what you want about Northern Norway (like how damn cold it is, for example) but the people here are nice! Just go to the anywhere in Northern Norway to shop (for example) and anywhere in Western Norway to shop. You notice a huge difference, there's something unique with people from Northern Norway.

Oh, btw. I'm in Northern Norway.

Spotify goes offline.

What do you think before you click the link? Are you afraid? Nervous? Sad? You do not even want to click the link, right? You don't wanna see it. Hell, I don't wanna see it. I love spotify too much for that.

My heart beat harder, harder. I press the link.

Why won't you press the link.. Now!

http://www.spotify.com/blog/archives/2009/10/01/spotify-goes-offline/

...

At least I can sleep now ;)

After a small visit on blogcounter....

..I've learnt that writing about the possible Arcturus-reunion really pays off when it comes to my visitnumbers...

I guess 90% of the hits to my blog now came from different versions of Arcturus-reunion googles. Cool. I should continue in this path.

I hope it comes information about the possible reunion soon, I've dreamt that they come back together ever since they split. Please, please, please. I'll sell my soul.

About asslicking

So this funny invention named blogcounter sees where people finds my blog though, and just what they search for/which links they follow/etc.

Today I notice someone found me via google. "How cool", I thought, and checked what this random googler googled to find my page. I had to laugh some when it turned out that the thing this pig actually googled was "ass licking".

It's google.lk and not google.com, but not that it's actually that relevant for me, cause this is the day that I can proudly(?) announce that I got my first visitor from.. a page like that. Congrats to me!