Saturday, June 26, 2004

Je suis venu te dire que je m'en vais

So, I'm leaving tomorrow, I got my hair cut and dyed, painted my nails and now all I still need to do is the packing. For those of you who don't know me, this means doing a sweeping motion through my closet and then just putting it all into a bag. Usually works out nicely although my bag tends to turn out a bit on the heavy side... Oh well!
I haven't entirely made up my festival programme aside from the obvious stuff like Morrissey, Pixies, David Bowie and The Franz. Especially Thursday's programme has a lot of bands about whom I've heard mostly good things, but don't really know. I think I might see TV on the Radio, but then again Sahara Hotnights are playing at the same time. I'm not a big fan, but you can't really do wrong watching Swedish chicksters with guitars, can you?
Friday, Pixies and David Bowie (fingers crossed that no-one is bringing lollipops) are the only ones I'll definitely be watching, but I might check out The Hells or go see Graham Coxon and then just whatever people are going to recommend me. Oh yeah, and The Hives if anyone can spare a cup of coffee or something else heavily caffeinated! I would have liked to see Belgian band Vive la Fête, but it'll have to be another time as they clash with Bowie.
Saturday is The Day of The Guv'nor and aside from that I don't know. Might go see some opera if I'm not hungover.
And Sunday is, (as some people have noted) strangely, par-tay day with Franz Ferdinand, Muse and Scissor Sisters. I just hope my dancing shoes aren't too muddy!

Anyway, since I'm gone for a week, I probably won't be blogging much, but if you're there, I'm bringing champagne and a bit of Bailey's so come 'round!

Friday, June 25, 2004

Staring at the sun

A picture I took of me and my sister's arms. I'm the freckly one and that, by the way, is me with a tan!

He sleeps with the fishes...

As you might know, if you’ve been checking in the last couple of days, I’m leaving for Roskilde the day after tomorrow and the people I wish have disappeared from this year’s festival (or would like to see shot in the kneecaps) is as follows:

5. Girls who wee outside the toilets.
Guys should use the toilets, too, but at least you can't see their arses.

4. Guys (or girls) who wee at the farm.
It’s smelly enough already, so why do they bother? Even cats are smart enough to not piss where someone else has already been, so it’s not like it’s that hard.

3. Guys in kilts.
They look hellalame. If one of them already has a girlfriend, he’s lucky and I’m surprised.

2. People in flannel shirts.
Come on, is this a nineties revival or what? They’re like the new drunken punks, albeit less smelly (but only vaguely).

But the reason shooting in the kneecaps is an option at all is:

1. People who play ball between the tents.
Basketball, football, pole tennis, I hate ‘em all (though, I must admit, the footballers are the worst. Obviously). There’s a huge field in the West Camp, just bugger off already.

More tomorrow. Probably.

Thursday, June 24, 2004

When I am Queen, you will be first against the wall

Things are definitely taking a turn to the dark side around here. Last week I worked 8 days in a row, had one day off where I had to go to Copenhagen and then I thought I was going to work for 6 days before my leaving for Roskilde. However, I got today off, but what’s the use, when it’s pissing down like it’s doing right now?
It better clear up pretty soon, because I’m too old and too fussy about flat hair to live through an entire week in a wet tent. Maybe I should look into the possibilities of making some sort of fire-offering to someone? Any volunteers?
TV, too, is all crap and no play. Wimbledon in the daytime and football in the evening, I can’t see how it gets any worse than that? They could do perpetual reruns of Diana’s funeral, and it would still be a vast improvement. I wonder who decides these things. They should definitely be first in line to be burned at stake, that’s for sure.

And on top of it all, the new Saybia single is out and it’s really catchy. Amazingly shit, the singer’s voice is worse than ever and then it just gets stuck in your head. Thanks a f***ing lot!
Oh well, I’ll just go suck a lemon, see if it will put a cheerier look on my face.

Wednesday, June 23, 2004

Love goes on forever

Love Shop has issued a statement on their site saying that after the concert on this year's Roskilde Festival, they will take a break and not make any more records or play anymore shows for the next couple of years. Can I just say that I find this thoroughly upsetting? In a country where music usually is neither really good nor really bad, Love Shop is easily the best band around and one of the few that have managed to put some poetry into the Danish language.
And to make matters worse, I'll miss most of their Roskilde-show as it clashes with The Moz. Bollocks, I tell you!

Tuesday, June 22, 2004

Excuse me, where can I go powder my nose?

Danish site SKUM has announced me as one of their festival mentors. Now, I know that I said yes to this myself (mostly because I don’t have anything better to do), but I sure as hell wouldn’t have had I known that they would describe as an expert on “tents and sanitary conditions”! Do I look like a girl scout to you? Or some freak who runs around rating festival toilets? Jesus… I know I wouldn't be anyone's first call when it comes to tips about keeping your beers cold or packing lightly, but that's hardly a reason to put me on latrine duty! Anyway, you can see it here, f***ing enjoy!

On a nicer side, I’ve decided to get some décor on my blog, so a Sex and The City quote generator has been added to the lower corner of my sidebar.

Monday, June 21, 2004

Woman, man or modern monkey?

By sports journalists, football is often described as a man's game. But am I the only one who finds this statement increasingly lame, considering the behaviour (and looks) of male footballers? I mean, you see woman players that are more macho than the average footballer in the Euro 2004.
Take this, for example. The other day when Denmark played Italy, Francesco Totti spat at Danish player Christian Poulsen. Obviously, when the pictures came out, there was a lot of fuss and a lot of anger directed at Totti and eventually he was banned from three matches. But now, as you can read in the above article (if you read Danish), Totti wants compensation for all the negative credit he has had for spitting at another player. He wants to sue some Italian newspapers and internet sites, as he feels that the incident has done damage to his image and upset his family. And then he goes on to state that "There have been many comments that have hurt me." That have hurt you?! Probably should have thought of that a bit earlier, you big sissy!
Just goes to show that I'm usually right when I say that footballers are nancy boys. Or f***ing ugly.

Toys for Boys

What can I say? I was hideously bored and there was nothing on TV. Good thing that my sister has such fancy toys along with her Bratz.

Sunday, June 20, 2004


I'm working my way through the blogging cliches, one by one.

1. I feel a bit like Renton in Trainspotting-sequel Porno; I couldn’t care less about the winners of football-matches, but I like when Manchester United and Brøndby lose.

2. And I cannot watch an entire match without becoming excruciatingly restless.

3. I think football-shirts on girls should take lust’s place as one of the 7 deadly sins.

4. Shorts are a privilege you earn when you join the ranks of civilised people and start shaving your legs.

5. I don’t like boy children…

6. … Or girl children if there are a lot of them.

7. I don’t like bands from Danish city Aarhus.

8. And I have a particularly hard time taking the dialect of that city seriously

9. I’m fascinated by moustaches because it’s one of the few things that look equally good on men and women.

10. I don’t like Mars bars.

11. Or peanuts.

12. But I like Snickers.

13. I can throw a brick exactly far enough to not have it hit my own feet.

14. I often wonder where my ability to sleep anywhere went.

15. Especially at festivals.

16. I’ve been a vegetarian since I was 16.

17. And, no, I don’t eat fish.

18. Or chicken.

19. Or Bassett’s wine gums.

20. But I do wear leather shoes.

21. I’m sometimes afraid that I’ve listened far too much to music and lyrics written by men.

22. And not learned a thing because they are no less strange now than when I was 10.

23. Not that that’s necessarily a bad thing.

24. My favourite painkiller-brand is called Syndol and sadly you can’t buy them in Denmark.

25. I’m not afraid of heights, but jumping down from things scares the living daylights out of me.

26. I’m disappointed every time I see a shoe that at first glance looks really nice, but at a closer look has a heel made of wood, plastic or, even worse, metal.

27. And I am convinced that the kitten heel is the devil spawn of a meeting between the shoe industry and cobblers.

28. Men come and go – Chanel slingbacks are forever.

29. Now all I need is to be able to afford a pair.

30. I think Bottom is funnier than Young Ones, but for some reason it’s Young Ones that I have on video.

31. That Friends has had its last season is so about time!

32. I wish TV would stop advertising for medicine against foot fungus.

33. I also wish that I was better at being cold in French.

34. Can you say that in English? It’s when you go outside in minus 5 centigrade wearing a dress and stockings and no-one can tell that you’re actually freezing your arse off.

35. I’m slightly worried when I meet former friends and they’ve decided to become witches and to go see English druids.

36. It’s not that they’re not nice persons and all, I just don’t get them.

37. I don’t get religion in general.

38. I’m really annoyed that I can’t understand what Serge Gainsbourg sings in Je T’aime, Moi Non Plus because it doesn’t really seem to be a song with too complicated a message?

39. I wish I had a middle name, but I can’t think of anything good.

40. Sometimes I think that the only thing standing between me and a future as a cat lady, who wears her housecoat outside, is the fact that I don’t have a cat.

41. So I’m pretty afraid to get one.

42. I’m just afraid of dogs, period.

43. However, if I did get a cat, I would call it Krupskaya and thus be naming it after Lenin’s wife.

44. If you ask me, sheep and ducks are the funniest animals in the world.

45. And maybe penguins.

46. I have a brother and a sister.

47. Both are younger than me.

48. I think that because I’m the older one, I should get special privileges, but mostly, people laugh at this assumption.

49. My brother finds it particularly funny and thinks this is okay, just because he is much bigger than me.

50. I’m not too good at keeping my surroundings tidy.

51. And I’m even worse at looking for things, even when I’ve cleaned up my room.

52. My favourite quote is “If I can’t dance, it’s not my revolution”.

53. Although Emma Goldman apparently hasn’t said it all.

54. In this case, it doesn’t matter that I’m terrible dancer, it’s just important to know that I wanted to, I could.

55. When I get old, I want to have my hair long.

56. And do it up in a chignon, ‘f course.

57. When I get that old, maybe I’ll have a driver’s license too.

58. But this is purely theoretical.

59. I was born on the 27th of July 1982.

60. Here, this day is in the middle of the hottest days of the year, but on a ten year average, it’s the coldest of these days.

61. I don’t think it’s my fault, but you never really know, do you?

62. I find it very sad that you can no longer buy Pernille-chocolate in Danish shops.

63. I don’t miss the dark version called Senator, though, that was just gross.

64. I was a really pretty baby.

65. Not that it’s helping me now.

66. I was born with black hair, then turned blonde, then a darker blonde and right now I’m pretty ginger.

67. The ginger is dyed, though.

68. My eyes, too, have a variety of colours.

69. A bit like David Bowie has it, but with the brown and blue mixed together in the both eyes. The same, but different.

70. I swear too much.

71. Or maybe I just have too much to swear at. I haven’t quite decided yet.

72. I like knitting, but I have yet to make anything I actually want to wear.

73. I’m good at baking, especially cakes.

74. Some people would also say that I was good at cooking.

75. And people who don’t like vegetables or garlic would very much beg to differ.

76. I’m allergic to some kinds of perfume. Not all kinds; e.g. I’m fine with CKbe, but CKone makes me itch.

77. I just don’t want to wear CKbe.

78. I like gadgets.

79. But I very rarely buy any.

80. I don’t think I buy that many things, really, but my money tend to disappear into thin air anyway.

81. My parents took me to my first concert when I was three.

82. I seem to remember that the band had a toilet on stage.

83. But then I also claim that we had dandelions growing on our bathroom floor, something my mother denies.

84. My favourite toys were a wooden train and my Lego.

85. I wasn’t allowed to have Barbie dolls until I was 5; my mother thought it was a woman oppressing toy.

86. She was right, but don’t tell her that.

87. For a long time I wasn’t allowed sugar either. Damned hippy parents.

88. The first book I read by myself was Ronia, the Robber’s Daughter. I wanted to be her from I was 7 till I was 10.

89. The first record I bought with my own money was No Need to Argue by The Cranberries.

90. If it’s okay to compare books and records, I still think Ronia is a lot better.

91. I fell asleep clutching a teddy bear for so long that I have a very hard time sleeping without holding my duvet.

92. As a consequence, I always wake up with cold, cold arms.

93. My favourite spectator sport is figure skating.

94. Mostly because the commentators always speak with a lisp. It’s funny.

95. I like white flowers.

96. And succulents.

97. But I don’t like red roses. They’re tacky and overexposed.

98. Don’t trust people who say that smoking isn’t cool. It is.

99. It also gives you wrinkles, though, so I quit.

100. I never thought I’d get here. But yay me.

Saturday, June 19, 2004

I’ll be watching you through heavy weather

Danish newspaper Politiken has an article on where and when to find the best weather on your Danish summer holiday. I can't find the fancy version with the graphics on their page (you do get this though and it’s in Danish), but the essence of it is that apparently you get the most sunshine and the highest temperatures around the last week of July and the first weeks of August and if you want to really crank it up you should go to north western Zealand. That’s all very good and nice, Danish parliament is considering moving the school holiday so it matches those days instead of those pesky, chilly days in June and all is well. Apparently.
Because there is a tiny aber dabei; guess which day is the coldest out of all those hot days in late summer? Yeah, that’s right, my birthday, the 27th of July, has over a 10 year period been the coldest day of them all. And not only is this the case, one of the coldest places to be in Denmark in the summer is also the eastern part of South Jutland, my hometown being pretty much square in the middle of that area.
Sigh. And do you know the feeling of getting up in the morning with the sun in your face and then, the second you step out of the door, it starts raining? Well, it has happened to me something like five times this week. Sigh. Again. This is the sort of thing that makes me believe that there is a God. And that she/he is out to get me.

Friday, June 18, 2004

Coming up man-sized

I think most people have heard of the economic theory that bases itself on the seams on girls’ skirts. Just to recapture; the idea is that in good times, women will wear shorter dresses and when money is tight (on a worldwide basis), skirts will get closer to the ground, probably to depress people more. The classic example is the 60’s which spawned the mini and the downfall and oil crisis of the 70’s that had long knitted skirts all over the place.
The other day, I heard another theory that works from women’s clothes or, in this case, the ideal that clothes are made to accentuate. It described about how the focus on different parts of the woman’s body shifted along with the general political opinion. In a liberal society focus would be on parts that don’t have a direct influence on women’s fertility, like breasts. However, when the needle turned towards conservative, people would start to look a bit more on the hips and bum, because wide hips are childbearing hips and in a conservative society, women are there to bear children.
You see this in Victorian times with their corsets and you see it just after WWII with things like Christian Dior’s New Look. You also see it right now, though, when you don’t hear as much about, say, Pamela’s breasts (and, yes, I realize that’s also because they’re old news) as you do about J.Lo or Kylie’s derrières.

You probably shouldn’t read too much into this sort of simplification of reality, but apart from the obvious turn towards more conservative values that has taken place in the wake of September 11th, I sometimes think it’s as if the way we perceive women has also changed a lot (I’m sure the way we look at men has changed too, but maybe I tend to not notice as much). In general, I think a sort (mild) misogyny is being accepted a lot more than just 5 years ago. You see and hear crude generalisations of women and it’s more ok to insinuate that all women do things the same particularly feminine way and that way is crap. We’re cranky all the time, we’re stupid, we’re not funny, we listen to crap music, we make crap music, we write crap books, make crap movies, watch crap movies and, by the way, we’re infesting the educational system with our crap values and if there is a rise in crime, that’s our fault, too, because all the female kindergarten teachers aren’t teaching the boys how to be masculine.
Furthermore, we have other women turning on us with Mommy-ism, explaining how we are terrible people for not dedicating ourselves completely to the hausfrau-role when we have children, completely forgetting that the housewife existed for something like two seconds in history, and she was miserable in both of them. Don't get me wrong, I think it's a fair enough choice to want to be at home with your children; what ticks me off is when women who don't choose this way of life are regarded as bad mothers and/or less feminine.

I don’t actually have a point or a Germaine Greer-approved solution (I wouldn’t want one, either) and I realize that I’m deducting a lot out of J.Lo’s arse. Maybe I should just concentrate on keeping my skirt on the knee and thus doing my bit for stability. And then again, no. I think stability is overrated anyway. Call it a mood swing.

Thursday, June 17, 2004

”Honey, before you buy the car you take it for a test drive!”

I hooked up with an old friend today. We went to school together and were good friends, also when we left school. But then suddenly, we stopped seeing each other as much, she moved, I moved, but most of all it was differing interests that did, I think. She was, and is, a much more spiritual person than I’ve ever been and I think I found it was a bit scary at the time and so we didn’t see each other for about three years. But a couple of days ago it was her birthday and I decided to make her a card. A couple of days later she texted me, asking if I wanted to meet as she was in town. I was a bit nervous before I went to meet her today, mostly because I thought that it might turn out that we had absolutely nothing to talk about. But we had some coffee and talked about getting old(er), transcendental meditation, old times, we just catched up and it was actually really nice. So, when I move to Copenhagen we should hopefully see some more of each other and have a drink or two.

And speaking of old friends, today is the day we’ve all dreaded and the reason why there will be no entries from decent female Danish bloggers all night; the last ever Sex and the City episode is being aired on Danish telly.
I’m not much of a crier when it comes to occasions where you’re supposed to cry, like school-goodbyes and things. But put me in front of a television and I’ll be misty-eyed within 5 minutes. I even cried over a Lambi-ad once, for f***’s sake! I can’t really say why, but I guess it’s a sheep thing.
So, you see, it’s pretty likely that I’ll have runny mascara later on. I didn’t watch Sex and the City from the beginning, but ever since I saw my first episode, I’ve been hooked. I don’t know if I’d say that it was my favourite show, because I like other things, too, like The West Wing, but it’s definitely in the Top 3. I like the way it’s both comedy and drama, I like the one-liners and I like the characters. But most of all, I like that they dare to be crass, to portray what we actually talk about instead of what they just think we should talk about.
I deliberately haven’t checked out any sites to see how the story ends. I’d personally like to see Carrie with Alexander Petrovsky, mostly I sort of have a thing for Mikhail Baryshnikov, but after last week’s episode, my money’s on Mr Big.
Still, no matter how it ends, I wish it would have continued. Sigh. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go find a truckload of Kleenex.

Wednesday, June 16, 2004

Lipstick traces

Kristian has decided that this is a blog about nail polish although I haven’t actually mentioned this anywhere yet. Even so, it’s a pretty good idea, so here goes. Sort of.

It doesn’t always pay off to fork out the big notes for your make-up. The worst eyeliner I’ve ever had was a Chanel one for which I paid around £13. It smudged like crazy if I went out into just slightly humid air – even if I tried to lock it with powder underneath and eye shadow on top – and if I didn’t use it for a while, the tip went bright neon yellow. Sort of eerie when it’s supposed to be black. Right now I’m using Revlon’s black eyeliner – it’s really good, doesn’t smudge and doesn’t cost more than a fiver. Same goes for mascara. Anyone who’s read more than five pages of a fashion magazine should have stumbled upon someone saying that Maybelline’s Great Lash is the best mascara in the world. It’s not a lie and there’s definitely no reason to pay for anything more fancy, unless you want some bling in your make-up bag. But obviously, bling is as good a reason as any.

But some things shouldn’t be bought cheaply and this especially applies for the more brightly coloured things like eye shadow, lipstick and nail polish. If you buy the cheap things here, it usually means that there’s not as many or as good pigments in it. It’s a bit like buying wall paint; you’ll wish you had spent a bit more when you have to paint your walls three goddamn times.
With lipstick you’ll have an excess of the greasy/waxy stuff that binds the lipstick and this, in my experience, means that it feathers (meaning flowing out into the small (fingers crossed) wrinkles around your lips) more easily. It's good if the Robert Smith-look is what you're going for, though.
With nail polish, it’s the same; with cheap stuff, there’s too much binder and here it means you’ll have to paint over three or four times and even though you save a bit of money, it’s just not worth the hassle. Also because when you apply more coats, waiting for it to dry makes you handicapped for a longer time.
While their eyeliner is nothing much to shout about, Chanel’s nail polish is, in my opinion, the best in the world. It last forever, even without a top coat, it doesn’t go thick in the bottle and it dries really quickly. I think my favourite shade is Rouge Noir, which, originally, was a limited edition, but after it appeared on Uma Thurman in Pulp Fiction, Chanel decided to make it more widely available.
Chanel’s colours do however tend towards the more conservative. For shades a bit sparkier, try Urban Decay. Not only is it the make-up brand with the coolest name ever, their nail polish is also really good, although, sadly, it doesn’t come in these rawking medicine bottles anymore. Favourite shades here is Kiss and Metropolitan. It's quicker to chip than Chanel, though.
But still, extra credit to ‘em for having lip gunk (a bit like lip gloss, but creamier) that tastes like cherry coke and for naming one kind of lipstick after the river you had to cross to get to Hades in Greek mythology, Styx.

Tuesday, June 15, 2004

Now it's summertime, I don't really care...

If you're not feeling like football or books and the Top 5-option is beginning to feel a bit old, try this:

Choose a band/or artist and answer only in song titles by that band: The Smiths

Are you female or male: Girl Afraid
Describe yourself: Half a Person
How do some people feel about you: That Joke Isn’t Funny Anymore
How do you feel about yourself: What Difference Does it Make?
Describe your ex girlfriend/boyfriend: Handsome Devil
Describe your current girlfriend/boyfriend: I Want the One I Can’t Have
Describe where you want to be: Golden Lights
Describe what you want to be: Well I Wonder
Describe how you live: Nowhere Fast
Describe how you love: Stretch Out and Wait
What makes you happy: This Charming Man
Share a few words of wisdom: You Just Haven’t Earned it Yet, Baby

Well, at least you won't be doing anything criminal in the meantime.

Staying in for the summer...

Summer holiday is just around the corner. I’m going to spend mine attending the Roskilde Festival and then probably just working, sadly. However, when you still live from summer to summer, like people who go to school or study usually do, the holiday is also a chance to catch up on pleasure reading, to catch up on all the books you can’t fit in between the school related ones. I’ve been on a gap year the last twelve months so there’s been nothing but pleasure reading for me, but I’m still trying to make a list of books suitable for reading while wearing shades in the garden. So far it’s this:

Agatha Christie: Murder in the Orient Express
Agatha Christie: 4.50 from Paddington
Because summer and light reading go hand in hand, and because these two are the only non-translated Agatha Christie-novels stocked by my local library.

Simone de Beauvoir: The Second Sex
Containing the probably most famous feminist quote ever; “One is not born but becomes a woman.” I read it when I was 17 and didn’t get it, but I should be older and (hopefully) wiser now. I remember being really annoyed by the footnotes in the book, but I’ve been a great admirer of Simone de Beauvoir for a long time so I’m giving it another try after reading Tous les Hommes sont Mortels (All Men Are Mortal). This is actually quite good, too, although full of translation no-no’s in the Danish version. Anyway, The Second Sex is a modern classic and now is as good a time as ever to re-read it (or read for the first time).

Catherine Millet: La Vie sexuelle de Catherine M.
Because I just can’t be arsed to drag out my dictionaries unless there is a promise of sex scenes.

Paul Auster: Oracle Night I bought this when I was still in England and I still haven’t read it, which is pretty feeble.

Iris Murdoch: The Message to the Planet
I've read The Bell and The Sea, The Sea and quite enjoyed them. This is what my library has to offer and I’m giving it a try.

That’s about it for now, really. And you? Do you have any literary plans for the summer or are you spending it watching football?

On the music-related side of my interests, Björk is set to release a new album in August, called Medulla. Here’s hoping that it’s better than Vespertine , which I never really got into, mostly because it was crap.
In Denmark, guitarist Lars Top-Galia has left Sort Sol. Not that anyone cares, the cool guitarist, Peter Peter, left in 1995 and it was pretty much downhill from there. Unspoiled Monsters was an okay-ish record at the time, but Snakecharmer was awful and Steen Jørgensen’s beard and appearance at Rock’n’Royal was just unforgivable. I’ll stick to (my guns) Dagger and Guitar, probably one of the best Danish records ever made.

Monday, June 14, 2004

“When will you die?”

I’ve just been checking out my death clock and apparently I’m going to die at some point between 2038 and 2046, the clock can't really decide on that. This is however if I put myself in as ‘pessimistic’ and not ‘normal’, because then I’m going to die in 2061. But how do you know if your mood is normal? And what if you’re generally pessimistic, but expect to get rid of it at some point? Does that count as optimism? What is optimism anyway? Is it a firm belief that things will get better or does hope count too? Because surely it’s possible to be pessimistic and hopeful at the same time, right? Or is that just what normal is?

Sunday, June 13, 2004

Olé olé olé

On the programme this weekend are some pretty big European events; the election for the European Parliament and the kick-off for Euro 2004.
Now, first things first, I went and posted my vote this morning before I went to work. If you’re in Denmark, you can still make it until 20.00 and you should, even if your ballot is going to be blank. This is going to sound tacky, but around the world, people are dying, literally, for the right to vote and pissing all over this by not getting off the couch when you have this right is both spoiled and rude. Finding out who to vote for shouldn’t take more than an hour of your time, especially when you’re blessed with the Internet.
Anyway, I voted for a woman, something I wouldn’t care that much about at an ordinary parliamentary election, but I think that one of the reasons that Danish women in general are so anti-EU could be that only around 27% of the MEP’s are women. I’m pretty sure that most people would turn against a democratic institution were they so poorly represented.

What would really represent me, though, was if I could find a candidate who went against that ridiculous European law that says that sporting events of “great popular interest” has to be televised on channels viewable to at least 90% of the population. What I really want is a candidate who wants all sports to be pay-per-view so DR and TV2 could stop wasting my (or my parents’) TV license fee on lame-ass crap like the Euro 2004, Tour de France and the Olympics, who all three are polluting the air this summer. My dream scenario is Denmark getting to the semi-finals, a goal within the first 5 minutes and then a 6-1 ass-kicking courtesy of Latvia! That should teach the subhumans who are watching Switzerland v. Croatia right now!

Friday, June 11, 2004

London, England, consider yourselves... warned!

So, the queen (bee) in me pulled out the golden scissors, cut the red ribbon and I now welcome you to this, the grand opening of my blog.
Although I'm quite obviously stating the obvious here, it will be about all the things I find important; music, books, lipstick, movies and shoes among others, but also the things that are just plain annoying, the quiet fights; girls in soccer shirts, boys with beards and all other sorts of atrocities. Hopefully, this should crank up the volume of the good fight(s) a bit.
Again, welcome!