tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65292748450805509452024-02-18T17:56:09.156-08:00Stones you ThrowOh the sweet scent of independence, Punk Rock and strawberries. I'm not a pussy but i'm not a asshole, go read my blog.Skünkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00307192201896710939noreply@blogger.comBlogger27125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6529274845080550945.post-90892696748162492692009-03-12T14:34:00.000-07:002009-03-13T03:18:21.944-07:00I made this girl called bullshit give my brother head for a fixI can't wait for summer. Staying out till dark, skateboarding and spraypainting the suburbs. Climbing trees and smoking pot on the beach. Brinigin my ghetto blaster with me everywhere I go. Last night I had one of those fucked up dreams again. This time I was with Steffen at this really strange big city made of wood and bricks in the middle of the forrest on a island. We had arrived there in a rowboat. There were gypsys and markets everywhere and the sky was constantly all crimson and stuff. We had no place to stay and were brought over by this old flameeater artist who lived in a tower of bricks, he gave us this strange dreamingdust that we were supposed to eat. After doing so we were attacked by gigantic waves that ate the entire city and turned everything into mud and sand. So we had to leave in our rowboat, later after days of roaming the sea we found this old tavern construccted on a bridge on top of the water where we stayed for a while. It's probably the best dream I've had in ages so I write it down here to remember it. Other than that we had the first official Meth Grinder jamming session today. We raped a black flag song and came up with some ideas about playing at this gig. Life is good and so is Agents of Change.Skünkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00307192201896710939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6529274845080550945.post-34461384918373028032009-03-10T05:13:00.000-07:002009-03-10T05:28:17.114-07:00exodus:21-17Yeah, next to this blog and the school blog that I never update I've also gotten myself a handy little mp3 blog full of hard to find underground shit. Ch-ch-check it out. <a href="http://exodus2117.blogspot.com/">Show your support!</a>Skünkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00307192201896710939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6529274845080550945.post-16908121379830267842009-02-28T03:26:00.000-08:002009-02-28T03:40:09.165-08:00What the fuck happened to mr. Rogers?I'm sleepless. Sleepless like a methfreak on his seventh day on the dust at a Atari Teenage Riot marathon... and yeah.. star wars and shit. Anyway, it feels like I am becoming more and more aware of myself, mainly my flaws. It's fucked up. The other day a friend of mine commented that he partly had lost his respect for me after a certain incident. I just froze and suddenly realized, what the fuck am I doing here? I am probably the last person in the world I would want to hang out with if I was someone else. My entire life is refering to lyrics, pretending to know it all yet having answers to nothing. I sit late at night and nod to the thought of my own ideas and completely forgets about reflecting around them, my ideas are as shallow as myself.<br />I am childish, annoying, unrealistic and disoriented. What the fuck? I copy everything around me and try to shape it into identity. I have ideals I can't back up and yet I follow them. I am too queer for the straight and too straight for the queer. Avoiding everything and constantly ending up confronting shit and backing out from it. I rip off and fuck up. Is this really who I am? If I try to look at myself as another person I think I'd actually ditch me and go hang out with someone else. I think I'd actually be talking about myself behind my back, honestly. <br />Even now, my confessions of selfawareness and acceptance of a new level of low self esteem I am whining over a fucking blog and calling it a personal revolution. <br />What the fuck is going on? <br />I am scared shitless.Skünkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00307192201896710939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6529274845080550945.post-33171125746626126952009-02-02T15:28:00.000-08:002009-02-03T12:28:58.083-08:00Now with 80% less suckAlright, so I'm sitting here, sober (first wrong step). Trying to find a way to pass my time, as usual I end up browsing random crack rock steady and general folk punk bands. All of a sudden I end up finding a band called Desertpunk with a myspace DP saying "smoke crack, hail satan" naturally, I am amazed to find such a band from norway and I enter their profile. That was the second step in the wrong direction.<br />I am clicking myself into their webpage and I find myself to be overwhelmed by flashy 3d animations and burning skulls like it's 1996. I think: goddamnit these guys use such cheesy graphics they gotta be sarcastic and click it... I click the fucking play button without thinking about the consequences. So all without any warning I am kicked in the head by the hard brutal truth about norwegian bands with cheesy graphics...<br /><br />Soulless is the only word that can describe the sounds that are scratching my ears until they start bleeding out of pure abuse: Soullessness. It is like five seconds of pure, lyrical and musical rape. It's not that it's too fast or too hard or anything like that, it's not like the lyrics are too cheezy or anything like that... It's just so fucking lame. I realize by that second why I don't listen to rock music. It's the fucking dullest shit I ever heard and the lyrics sounds like something I couldn't even have pulled out of my blooddripping mangina. They're really that lame, making references to rocky movies and making the most dull, halfdrunk lovesongs that wouldn't even appear in my most distant nightmares.<br />Rock music in general suck, I mean, we have like fucking Turbonegro that tries to rebel through songs about destruction and beer and the most cheezy gimmicks, then we have nickleback and all those lame bands that never comes up with anything but the same whining moodless crap. I could mention about a million other bands that I hate but I won't take the time. I can even find this shit crawling up the creek making filthy filthy subgenres. Like this norwegian so called ska-rock band I found... it just sounds like pure monotone, mindless bullshit. If you find punk rock I don't like, it is either because of the ideals in the music, that it's too metally or the main reason: because it sounds too much like these fucking assholes. <br />I fucking hate rock music. Sure, you can go whining about how "if there wasn't rock music, there would never be ska or punk rock or crack rock steady or anything". Does it look like I fucking care? I hate the Beatles, I hate the rolling stones, I hate the Ramones and I hate every other fucking so called mother of modern rock. All these bands are fucking lame and it doesn't matter how many times you go on about origins, because I really don't care, I'm so glad I didn't have to suffer through the 70's because I'd have to be left with only a few amounts of bands who were not very different in style or musical direction. I'd rather die in the jazz age cause at least they could serve me some proper shit. Real proto dancehall. I know this sounds fucked up but I love the music that gets out today, Mad Conductor, Stupid Stupid Henchmen, Limp Wrist, Eskatol, Defiance, Ohio, Streetlight Manifesto and SMK, all these lovely bands that just takes as much distant from general rock music as possible. I don't even remember that there are such bands out there like U2, The Killers and Radiohead because I don't ever have to listen to it. I don't ever have to forcefeed myself with their bullshit and I can honestly say I've heard four greendays songs for the last five years. Ir might be ignorant, but hell , at least I'm safe for suffering through their corporate bullshit.<br />Piss out y'all<br />- VSkünkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00307192201896710939noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6529274845080550945.post-11718310282140669272009-01-17T14:26:00.000-08:002009-01-17T14:46:11.160-08:00Crack cocaine lolipopSorry about the poetry bullshit but I swear I'll start posting proper, reflecting blog posts again. Just kinda fell off the edge lately face-first. <br /><br />Bruised knees bruised knees<br />Give me fucking bruised up knees<br />Blahblahblahblah <br /><br />When I'm sitting on the wall covering my bullshit palace of incomplete downloads <br />and dreams about running from the cops again<br />Sociopathy sociopathy sociopathy sociopathy sociopathy fuck myself all over the place<br /><br />Pacifist V is a zombie give me Deli give me death<br />Give me speed give me excitement give me trouble<br />Gimme gimme gimme I need some more<br />Gimme gimme gimme don't ask what f-f-f-fuckhead fsfdoiasdrhjfueifhklsdafjløadjfalscCRRACKKKKKKKKZASHITZNIK.<br /><br />Pacified myself all over the place<br />Who would have thought I would live to see my own future? <br />Who would have thought your hard, slimy member would penetrate me and I would accept it?<br /><br />Not me, that's for sure.<br /><br />I can't write about lost love, I can write about blowing up buildings.Skünkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00307192201896710939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6529274845080550945.post-31817069197490495502009-01-17T02:49:00.000-08:002009-01-17T03:34:25.093-08:00Die! Then we're even.So yeah, new year, new conflicts, new situationist comedies and new b-b-b-b-BULLSHIT.<br />Recently my life has been focused on getting arrested in the tenth richest town in norway by yet another band of hating Mallcops, I really do feel pity for them... I've also been reading a lot and been to a few protests against the Gaza holocaust. Last thursday I had to run from two cops with teargass. It was pretty fun, some kids smashed a McDonalds, all located by Oslo's most central shopping street. Now you may complain and start bitchin', going "how does fucking up your own country help Palestine?" Who the fuck said I'm in this for Palestine? Sure, I want solidarity and equal rights for everyone, and ofcourse I want the Israeli forces the fuck out of Gaza. But what really sickens me is how world's most domestic Empire walks over and takes the party of the Israeli government. I mean, I'm not one to judge a nation by it's government but the symbolism and idealism Israel forces express makes me wanna vomit. I do not smash window out of frustration because of one event, I do it cause of the intense non-stopping destruction of our liberty, the privatist bullshit that creates a market only for the buyhappies and leaves little left for youth or a collective way of mind, the streets do no longer belong to us and I shed a tear as I see important, highstanding people from inside the norwegian government sympathizing with the imperealist shitheads. Our government has been cooperating with oppressing americanized organizations since the 1940's and it seriously scares me. <br /><br />Piss and love<br />- VSkünkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00307192201896710939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6529274845080550945.post-59327630550004825872008-12-27T09:12:00.000-08:002008-12-27T09:42:55.086-08:00Columbine RerunAlright, V here. Back in action hopefully for a longterm this time. I am free, motherfuckers. I am chilling out curing my flu with a fuck lot of beer and mushroom soup (not the psychedelic kind of shrooms, y'know... just shrooms.)while typing these inspiring words supplying your little minds with that fine scent of selfdestruction while kickin' to the tunes of the Union Jack/Gerbs split I found in my mailbox just the other day. I am currently animal-free, oppression-free and most important of all institution-free. At home I have a gram of salvia awaiting my and a new years eve that will possibly send me into a coma. Freedom is taken, never given. You have to take it back. Sometimes that means kicking the motherfuckers in the teeth, sometimes it means sending a very sharp letter to some facist jerking off to the american stock market. I'm looking forward to tomorow when I'll be back on my feet and ready to roam the streets once again. All things concidered we're basically fucked. <br />Piss out, bitches<br />- VSkünkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00307192201896710939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6529274845080550945.post-48560163385372009452008-12-09T01:09:00.000-08:002008-12-09T01:11:07.042-08:00Mr Rogers has returned to the building<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:hyphenationzone>21</w:HyphenationZone> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:612.0pt 792.0pt; margin:70.85pt 70.85pt 70.85pt 70.85pt; mso-header-margin:35.4pt; mso-footer-margin:35.4pt; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Vanlig tabell"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">… It’s 9:30 PM and it’s Sunday, 7th December. This is my confession. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">The drugs are kicking in, the amphetamine is playing pinball inside my slowly rotting animated corpse and it is my ex girlfriend’s birthday today. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">My little fortress of solitude currently consists of: Four very pale, white walls with<span style=""> </span>a few show posters, drawings, some copies of old soviet propaganda, a desk where I can work, a window that’s never possible to see through because I never open my curtains, various empty teacups, a lamp, a vinyl player and laundry and not-so dirty laundry all over these two metres of space. I live a life without impulses. I am institutionalized. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">Between these four walls I spend most of the time I have left praising my teenage sense of so called “self-destruction”. But do not cry for me, because staying at this pathetic excuse of a prison holds nothing but opportunities. I see strategies, I see ways to escape, I see ways of keeping this from happening again without giving up my independence, freedom and general love for life. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">I stopped smoking because it’s stupid and I don’t see why I need cigarettes for anything else then joints. Paternacide by Morning Glory starts spinnin’ as I enter a sort of psychosis/revelation. I am not here because of drug problems. I am here because I made a mistake, because I got careless, because I forgot how to dodge their game. This is not a confession of my previous “crimes” or “sins” or whatever the fuck you wanna call it. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="" lang="EN-GB">This is a confession of my carelessness, a confession for that I accepted the avoidable, I am confessing that I on purpose sat down in the back of a social therapist’s Volvo and let the fucker drive me off to a fucking social apartment to rot away until I was ready to face their bullshit with a smile that even Mr Rogers would approve as fake. Forgive me, Satan for I have sinned…<o:p></o:p></span></p>Skünkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00307192201896710939noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6529274845080550945.post-62024951002471626722008-10-14T01:34:00.001-07:002008-10-14T01:36:11.159-07:00Der PansersvinBoredom leads to crime, crime leads to excitement, excitement motivates crime.<br />You do the math.Skünkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00307192201896710939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6529274845080550945.post-84822700562726039232008-10-08T00:50:00.000-07:002008-10-08T00:53:18.520-07:003 things that annoy meRight now , I'm too lazy to care.<br />I'm pissed off about the election and that the majority of voters in the US are urban-hating suitmonkeys and inbreed, racist rednecks.<br />Another thing that annoys me is the establishments around me and the third thing is that unless I create a seperate blog for school asignments I'll have to post a fictional article about a fairy tale here..Skünkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00307192201896710939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6529274845080550945.post-64420679929660314512008-10-01T14:40:00.000-07:002008-10-01T14:44:16.437-07:00Only anarchists are pretty, I'm a motherfucking poet.I've started writing a lot of poems lately. I've only shown them to Mats and Dariok so far but I hope to publish them somewhere just to show them to people. I hate just leaving my works to rot away in some forgotten folder.<br /><br />Vegetarianiel is me<br />I'm Vegetarianiel<br />I love life<br />life don't love me back<br />but I really love life<br />I like jacking off to imaginary imagery of me and life having intercourse<br />I picked flowers<br />life trashed them<br />I tried to expose myself to life<br />but life kicked me in my balls<br />and burnt my hair<br />it hurts a lot so I try to stop thinking about life<br />I want to smoke crack to forget about life<br />but nobody lets me so i stay up and write love letters to life<br />like this one<br />is this a confession or a love letter to life?<br />or is it a hate letter?<br />I hope its a love letter.<br /> <br />Dear life<br />I'm Vegetarianiel<br />you're gay<br />but I love you<br />because I'm gay too<br />but only for you<br />because I let you fuck me anally all the time<br />but you still won't let me<br />even though I let you fuck me anally<br />everyday<br />When will the day come when you will stop fucking me in the ass<br />and asking me how I feel about getting fucked in the ass?<br />It hurts when you fuck me anally<br />because I'm not really gay<br />just gay for you<br />I want to die too<br />does that make me a bisexual?<br />If so I want to fuck a straight person<br /><br />Norwegian poems suck<br />I like drugs<br />I take a lot of drugs<br />when I take drugs life punishes me<br />so I shit juice and blood<br />life never wants to snuggle<br />just fuck me all the time<br />then i start to shit blood again<br />it hurts a lot<br /><br />New mom tells me im gonna turn out like old mom<br />Old mom is dead<br />My mom is a big part of my life<br />Does that mean my mom is fucking me in the ass?<br />Everyday?<br />My dad tells me I'm a dopehead<br />he's not a part of my life right now<br />school is lifes penis<br />Dariok is not<br />Life has a lot to learn from Dariok<br /><br />First I was 16<br />then I was 17<br />Then I was a woman<br />then I was 90<br />then I was 86<br />Now I'm 64<br />I can't wait till I'm ten<br />Then life will be a pedophile<br />Right now I'm the pedophile<br />So life is a molester<br />Vegetarianiel is a molested pedophile<br />the kids laughs at that<br />it's not funny<br />I don't save my poems<br />When I die someone might find them and sell them<br />then death will fuck me in the ass too<br />I'm scared now<br /> <br /> My mom had her birthday today<br />my mom fucked me on her birthday<br />its not her birthday anymore<br />Ole left<br />life scared him<br />life treats me differently when Ole is here<br />I think life is ashamed too<br />I wish I was drunk<br /><br /> My mom had her birthday today<br />my mom fucked me on her birthday<br />its not her birthday anymore<br />Ole left<br />life scared him<br />life treats me differently when Ole is here<br />I think life is ashamed too<br />I wish I was drunk<br /><br /> Coffee is good<br />I take coffee instead of speed<br />When I'm on coffee I can outrun life<br />That's good<br />I run fast<br />Life don't<br />Except when it's in uniform<br />I daydreamed that I kissed a girl<br />It was better than fucking<br />I want to go steal a car<br /><br /> I copy Ezra<br />I'm a copycat<br />I hate copycats<br />Stop fucking cats<br />They're fragile<br />I wonder if paprika makes you high<br />The movie said it does<br /><br />I miss riding bikes<br />It's fun<br />I can outrun life<br />Life can't reach my ass that way<br />Cars can<br />Cars scare me<br />Fucking screwdrivers<br /><br />I went to Ski<br />To outrun life<br />It went pretty well<br />Existence is OK<br />Floyd used to be good<br />Girls don't scare me<br />Boys gets scarier and scarier<br />I'm sick of hanging out with queersSkünkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00307192201896710939noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6529274845080550945.post-88762623620951499262008-09-30T15:22:00.000-07:002008-09-30T15:34:05.088-07:00I choose the black pill.Am I killing or saving myself? Even though my parents, along with the establishment, the institutions and the organized facilities are telling me to turn back and return to their society I just keep on walking the other way, I keep refusing to accept their guidance. I keep burning the bridges, leaving no breadtrace back home. Is it rebellion, stupidity, desperation or something completely different? Am I following my ideals or running away from my safety net or perhaps even both? Or neither? I'm pretty confused right now and it's got absolutely nothing to do with nihilism, it's got nothing to do with idealism, not anarchy, not punk rock, not DIY not anything except a burning instinct to break lose from my chains and do something fun that would make me be able to breathe fresh air again. Maybe Mischief Brew just makes me melancholic or going nu-emo. But tomorrow I am rejecting my parents demands and taking the train out of oslo to stay at Dariok's place; miles and miles away from my parents destination. I feel kind of like a teenage girl running away because her parents are treating her like if she was a sacred piece of painting who's running away for the first time though it's probably my 20th time or something. But I suppose it's just the way things are, people are following their ideals as die-hards, avoiding all compromise because giving in to compromises is the excact same thing as giving up, playing their game. But aren't we them to the opposite forces? Is it really after all just a question about point of view? What if it isn't about system and anarchy, what if it isn't all about fighting it but rather reaching out a hand. Then again, that is my definition of anarchy, a society where people can depend on each other and not each others money and materialistic values. Where organizations handling economy and calling it charity is replaced by people actually caring for each other. When that sixteen year old girl lying in the back alley with her face all numb and red, full of bruises and marks isn't ignored and have to wait for the cops to help her but will actually be helped by actual people who aren't doing it to get their sallary but because they care, though they have never ever met this girl and don't know if she's a drug addict, just going through a regular day of oppression and violence or a rich girl who was at the wrong place at the wrong time they would still reach out a hand and actually help her rather then giving ten bucks a year to some rainforest organization and buying =Oslo believing this makes up for all the apathy and therefore having a good enough conscience to just walk by hoping the police will pick her up later. I don't believe in a form of society, I believe in humanity. Is that radical? I remember while staying in Moss I was gonna sleep over at this girl's place when I took the bus too far and ended up at the end station, so to reach her appartment faster I decided to run since I actually enjoy running just for the heck of it. It was pretty dark since it was part eleven and september, and this woman drives up next to me and asks me if everything was okay. She was pretty much the only driver on the road that night. I told her I was okay but was looking for someone, so she asked me if I needed a phone and lend me hers so I could call my friend. I got a hold of June and the woman asked me if I needed a ride, she was going the same way so I thanked her for the generosity and got into her car, I asked her if she was a night-raven or something. A night-raven is this non-profit organization that patrols the streets at night making sure everyone's alright and stuff. She started laughing and told me she was selling designer vibrators and that she had just been to a party to promote her products. I told her she had given me a lot more faith in the human race. We shared a laugh as we drove further down the darkened road that saturday night. Although I had a lot of other good times that weekend that was definitely the highlight. Espescially taken into concideration that I spent the rest of the night at a uptight student party, listening to homophobe and racist jokes and watching apathic students shotting calinca and battery listening to hit singles from 2002 calling it Retro and partying like a bunch of fourteen year olds. Needless to say I pissed in their shoes. Am I a hypocrit? Maybe I'm not excactly spreading out the word about solidarity but at least I pissed off some right-wings.<br />Peace out y'all.<br /><br />- VSkünkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00307192201896710939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6529274845080550945.post-21777553374238722182008-09-28T17:24:00.000-07:002008-09-28T17:28:41.567-07:00Kill Punk Rock starsDespite all the bullshit with all the fucking institutions causing me to lose my job, my life and almost my sanity lately I've managed to stay sane by browsing the internet for Crkrkstdy7 stuff.<br />YES, I do realize it is not PC but I cannot help being a Ezra fanboy. I browsed through his musical projects and accidently tumbled over...his old blogspot. It's from 2006 and pretty much a collection of his old poems. Or well, he blogged through poems and it's really entertaining reading his views on different events in his life just that they rhyme. I put it up under gods next to the blog so you can go check it out for yourself if you feel like reading some DIY poetry.Skünkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00307192201896710939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6529274845080550945.post-23597459895496130662008-09-28T10:37:00.000-07:002008-09-28T10:40:06.445-07:00SKEDSMO VGSNo joy No choice No Joy No Choice<br />Kill yourself today<br />Anger and sadness imprinting our hearts<br />Join the machinery or die behind bars<br />Selfdestruction is my only choice<br />When you've chopped off my arms and murdered my voice<br />Trying to slaughter my hope and my will<br />Crucified to the walls of your systems, still<br />you hit and hit like a fucking machinegun<br />blast my legs to hell so I can't run<br />Stealing my freedom and raping my pride<br />Firing at me with all your might<br /><br />So here I go, a glass of pills<br />Unlock it first, now here it tilts<br />Cheers to your institutions, cheers to your fucking goons<br />Cheers to your fucking methods, cheers to your fucking rules<br />I'm expiring from your assistance, expiring from your help<br />Expiring from your slavery, expiring from your hell<br />So here goes my little statement out of frustration<br />I found a little way to stop your sick obsession<br />With ruining my life with making me your whore<br />I'm roasting my own brains dedicated to your support<br />Say your little prayers, give me your farewells<br />I'm taking the next pillsip out of your safety hell.Skünkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00307192201896710939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6529274845080550945.post-22182437421208138202008-09-22T16:46:00.000-07:002008-09-22T16:57:45.161-07:00Suicide, anyone?No, I will not kill myself. I have experienced the msost drastic change ever by going from freehanded, loving and careless to a fucking prisoner in half an hour. Unbelievable. Don't ever trust child services, don't ever trust your teachers, do not ever trust authorities in general because they will manipulate you, just please do not give in! I'm talking out of experience, not unless you want to have the same rights as a twelve year old until you're 20. I'm dead serious.Skünkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00307192201896710939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6529274845080550945.post-90824853681388676242008-09-17T00:48:00.000-07:002008-09-17T01:22:25.681-07:00Shoot the kids at schoolThis is part of my new column, which I will be updating once a week. It'll concist of one or more subjects I have thought about during that wednesday that's worth memorizing.<br /><br /><br /><br />The importance of a alternative press submitted through blogs, wikis and independent, nonprofit newsorganizations is pretty relevant. Andrew Keen argues against it by complaining about how the narrowminded bloggers and independent, amateur reporters are imprinting the articles with their own opinions and views and steal good stories from educated reporters. Fucking bullshit, if it wasn't for the independent unorganized news platforms some news would never reach the surface. Dear A. Keen, do you realize that bloggers prevented a school masacre in Boston by bringing certain points of interests into the light about the students webspace where he had written about it on a pasword protected section? No ofcourse you don't. You hate the internet. Why should the established press run a monopoly on important news? This isn't really about your journalist pride, it's about how independence is killing your moneymaking and that really bugs you doesn't it, Andrew? You say these bloggers are unexperienced amateurs and that they do not bring out the complete story, but the independent news revolution has just begun and there will appear more organized and complete sources for information. Just like the selfsatisfying, libertyhating penisreplacement you call a education, Rome was not built in one day.But we will keep fighting, we will keep tearing down your towers of profitbased information and publish news and facts you would never dare even whispering about. That's journalism, not trying to make the article more controversial and acceptable. If kicking you verbally in your Berkley university-asshole makes me subjective, then I don't want to be objective.<br />Yours truly<br />- VSkünkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00307192201896710939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6529274845080550945.post-89926574952893128882008-09-10T00:28:00.000-07:002008-09-10T00:57:07.782-07:00ScenekidsRight, so I'm pretty fucking fed up with the shit. I'm on Corporateshitbook (facebook) and am just about to check my requests when I suddenly see the most fucked up box I've ever seen on Facecock. "You have been invited to Scenekid gathering 9/20th". Not just do I ignore the request. I reply with a VERY spicy message: "You know, I do have ideals. YES I want Oslo to burn, I want the shitfaced majority to open their eyes and actually learn shit; but I DO NOT want a revolution as long as it means holding hands with you. You can take your My Chemical Romance, Killswitch Engage and all your other fake, sellout idols and shove them up your dolled out, pro-comercialism, dollarshitting mascaraarses. You say scene kids, goths, punks, emos and metalheads are invited? But how the fuck do you know that any of these even want to hang out with eachother or even be assosiated with one another? There already are places for punks in Oslo, but you probably never been to neither Barrikaden or Blitz because you're either too ignorant or you're simply against it. I don't need a bunch of fakeass makeupdolls to make me feel like a part of a society. You should at least have the desency to remove Punks from your invitation list because because I don't know any punks with a sense of selfrespect and dignity who would meet up at this event. If you concider coke, Bodymap and Tim Burton t-shirts punk rock you can fuck yourself. - Yours Truly, D. " <br /><br />I kept thinking about this for a few hours, because this triggered something. "is this really today's definiton of punk rock?" Hooking up with a bunch of kids who concider themselves outcasts outside the biggest scenekid store in norway? What the fuck... But then I came to think about something that has been bugging my unconsciousness for years. How many of us do still cling to our ideals? I remember seeing all these actual Blitz kids drinking pepsi and sipping down coca cola, I remember all the hypocracy in the scene. Is punk rock more then just another scene? Is it more than just a dirty appeal and homemade clothes? Are we aware of our choices? Are we idealists or just lacking identity? I even remember this time when I was speaking to this girl at Blitz, I asked her about her political views and she said "she had a lot of own opinions". I asked what she meant by that and she told me "I think animal-cruelty is wrong and I hate war and Bush." ... Who the fuck with a right mind doesn't hate bush? Who likes war? Is this the modern day ideology that imprints the punk scene? These kids are wearing ACAB shirts and they don't even know why they hate the police! These kids are all members of the NDF and not even half of them are vegetarians, and fifty percent of the vegetarians are wearing expensive leatherjackets! Do you know what your bands sing about, bitch? What the fuck is Eminem doing right under Dead Gherardsens on your mp3 play... Ohmy fucking god is that a iPod? Does revolution come in a hairspray can? Does it come through your alternative press? Does it come with your leatherjacket? Does it come with your marrocan marijuana which probably cost several people their harvest and food because some mafia forced them to replace their corn with marijuana and cocaine plants? No. No it doesn't. You judge me for being a PC-Nazi. Fuck you. If these are my modern day revolutionaries then kill me please.<br /><br />- VSkünkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00307192201896710939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6529274845080550945.post-41812902373380032362008-08-27T01:29:00.000-07:002008-08-27T01:36:14.418-07:00Favorite siteBelieve it or not but I am actually going to use Stones You Throw for a schoolasignment. I'm gonna post a lame-ass review of a website I often visits on my blog and since this happens to be my only blog I suppose I have to post it here...<br /><br />800grader.com is pretty much the unofficial internet platform for norwegian punk rock and hardcore. It is a place to arrange gigs, book bands, get show info, see pictures from the latest gig, find out about new music, sell your vinyls and crap and talk about random shit with likeminded punks. <a href="http://www.800grader.com/">http://www.800grader.com/</a> Is currently just a forum but the admins claim that they are indeed working on a website, it's just not done yet... yeah right.<br /><br />Other sites I visit a lot is 7inchpunk.com which is a site for downloading old and new punk rock 7 inches, too bad the selection is so limited. Still a lot of undiscovered great punk rock records on that site. Ch-ch-check it out!<br /><br />... I also go on tv-links.cc or surfthechannel.com to watch Invader Zim, Venture Bros, Dilbert and all the other lame cartoons I watch.<br /><br />Piss out.<br /><br />- VSkünkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00307192201896710939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6529274845080550945.post-79967963358123181192008-08-27T00:53:00.000-07:002008-08-27T01:22:45.379-07:00Run, Spot, Run!Kanalrock, school starts, mood dies and all of a sudden I'm off to buy 40g of pot al0ng with S & M (whoose full names I have chosen not to type in this post) we've been smoking the stuff everyday, they because they can and me because I need a positive experience during the schoolday because the schooldays are long and boring. Today I'm gonna spend midterm with a friend so I brought soft pitas with greece salad and tzatziki. Can't wait. Also, I might hook up with Steffen after school.<br /><br />- V<br /><br />P.S I just purchased the Hevn CD and a italian 80`s hardcore compilation from Bombs Away Records/Distro. Can't wait!Skünkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00307192201896710939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6529274845080550945.post-32223568464209291832008-08-08T17:11:00.000-07:002008-08-10T12:18:52.190-07:00Restless<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgScAwqMGhu4OArEyxgxFcjzSIy5FB6zInPHPqMZ7zJrLc2R3KPi1OWwSHNbKtOnhThW97XPFedil1FHKQdyHXNISxfRD98DcCXL5xJxQBC51KB57BaOwfSO80Te11ZhvT2wM9WngLSFcw/s1600-h/Bilde+75.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232304323965518578" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgScAwqMGhu4OArEyxgxFcjzSIy5FB6zInPHPqMZ7zJrLc2R3KPi1OWwSHNbKtOnhThW97XPFedil1FHKQdyHXNISxfRD98DcCXL5xJxQBC51KB57BaOwfSO80Te11ZhvT2wM9WngLSFcw/s320/Bilde+75.jpg" border="0" /></a>Alright, since this has been my first official night I've staid the entire night at home in ages, I guess it's worth a post. The last couple of days I've been with my laidback hippie-compadre Joel. I've pretty much every night been forced to sneak in late at night and therefore also been unable to take a shower, since I mostly shower at nighttime cause I'm too busy hooking up with people at daytime. I suppose it's been relaxing just spending the night alone at home, watching some bad horrormovies (mark my words, BAD horrormovies. Not as in Isle of the dead bad, I'm talking motherfucking Ghost Lake BAD). I didn't think I'd ever say this, but I'm also glad to get a break from all the potsmoking that's been going on. It's not that that I've smoked a lot of it lately, it's just been some extremely good stuff. Anyhow, after a good long week of passing out at 4, drinking with exchild soldiers, smoking quality green and getting lost in the forrest I feel like I diserve a break.... for tonight. Tomorow I'll have to work even harder....crap.<br /><br />- VSkünkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00307192201896710939noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6529274845080550945.post-48401292073718499382008-08-08T04:20:00.000-07:002008-08-08T04:37:38.398-07:00AnalrockWell there's a first time for everyone. And now Daniel Carlsen is on purpose trying to make a shitlot of money before next weekend. Why, you say? Kanalrock, I say. This two-days huge ass punk rock festival going off at Horten the 16th and 17th. Most of the bands who plays there are bands who'd been wetting my panties if I wore any since I went to like... fifth grade. Among them Asta Kask, 999, Cockney Rejects and EXPLOITED. Now, I think the first of these bands that I got into was either Asta or Cockney Rejects but all these bands I've been listening to frequently since I first listened to them. I believe there will be moshing, there will be weed and there will be alcoholic beverages and hopefully I'll get to hang out with some of my favorite bands of all time. Now Kanalrock is located by this river in Horten, I'll be sharing a tentwith Martin who I met at Moss Pønkråkk. To get the money I've been doing stuff like drawing for this webpage, helping my grandmom with her grocery shopping and cleaning her appartment and cutting the lawn. Hopefully I've have enough for band merch, drugs, beer and all that other good stuff. I've checked out some of the other bands who're playing and pretty much all of them sound awesome, even Knuste Ruter are gonna show up. Which is definetly one of the greatest Oslo HC bands at the moment. Gatans Lag is this swedish Oi! band who're also coming, I love their song "min stad mitt land". I also owe some dope cash which I hope to be able to pay back soon. Life is good, but vacation is almost over. That makes me a sad little panda.<br /><br /><br /><br />- V<br /><br /><a href="http://www.kanalrock.no/images/stories/header.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.kanalrock.no/images/stories/header.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="http://www.kanalrock.no/images/stories/header.jpg"></a></p><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.kanalrock.no/images/stories/header.jpg"></a>Skünkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00307192201896710939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6529274845080550945.post-47855320526061324532008-08-02T03:06:00.000-07:002008-08-02T03:08:03.329-07:00I'm backSorry about the deadtime, but life just offers a lot more tempting opportunities then sitting infront of a white screen typing words for two perhaps three other people to read. Do not misunderstand, I do enjoy blogging and I will start writing actively again, I've just been too busy having fun lately.Skünkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00307192201896710939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6529274845080550945.post-45273576594420922922008-07-10T13:36:00.000-07:002008-11-12T21:24:55.590-08:00DIY-ableToday I finally received the Snutjävel package I've been waiting for for ages.<br />After much trouble with both bank accounts, post offices and all that shit. It's funny because I remember when I first ordered it from Rka I asked him that since I was buying the 7" if he couldn't send me the songs over mail so I could have them on my MP3 player too. I got the reply "Sorry, Snutjävel syslar inte med sånt." Whcih for all of you who dont know swedish means "Sorry, but Snutjävel don't do that stuff." In the begining I wondered, "What the fuck? What's his problem?" The funny thing was that I was really sceptic to these guys ideals, think of it: They didnt want me to be able to have the songs on my computer and spent a awful lot of time on sending it... But along with the t-shirt and the 7" Rka had sent me a swedish fanzine. Cow:Files #6 where in they had a interview with Snutjävel. I started reading it and suddenly the entire waiting period, the refusal to send songs over email and all the other stuff seemed very exciting. In the interview Rka spoke about DIY, ofcourse I know about DIY from before, but this kind of opened my eyes. What's really more exciting? Browsing through a fuck load of mp3 files to skip a lot of songs because you're too busy doing other things aside from listening to it because you're just waiting for that other song you actually intended to download along with the other fucklot OR to receive a 7 inch in the mail along with a t-shirt from the band, with a handwritten message inside the envelope and a fanzine. Spending time and effort on doing things in that tradition really makes it more enjoyable. It really does! This reminded me excactly why I love receiving letters rather than e-mails, making my own dinner rather than buying some steril product at the local shop. I mean, finding new exciting bands over the internet is great and if it wasn't for the internet I prolly'd never even hear about Snutjävel, but actually receiving something sent to you from a actual person, something real and physical is a whole lot different than running through a archive of music that you probably will never give your full attention to. I love vinyls and I love that first listening, lying in my bed and reading the lyric sheet as the song goes, that knittery sound and then putting the 7" back in its folder and putting it on the top of the record pile for then to put the mailenvelope it came in up on the wall. That's pretty much why I love DIY, weither its records or food or shows or whatever.<br />Here are some pics of the t-shirt, the 7" and me fucking around.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGia110aV0vKJ9qZxrsRYDXSYeqIXuwBSmDikByh-xCfzNzPNMZmOzG11NxJxa3f4SwpwU9cvZjL97XQdi377OYIvdJKq0vg4yezEeT8FbkCM5OVOqgJ_aigqgod-hiI5wc5b_sdSk4mk/s1600-h/Bilde+42.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGia110aV0vKJ9qZxrsRYDXSYeqIXuwBSmDikByh-xCfzNzPNMZmOzG11NxJxa3f4SwpwU9cvZjL97XQdi377OYIvdJKq0vg4yezEeT8FbkCM5OVOqgJ_aigqgod-hiI5wc5b_sdSk4mk/s200/Bilde+42.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221494289043791202" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmFjdEn4ge2SPZrUtiOKFFwgv3xqsBYBU02M493ezPVj_TcWSVjkQwvvmnWq5uHMm5wkzriVXt0g-JCkurfLW2X9ZCLbZqU6gJwA0z2GI8dMDbOKzmTajVs7fK-XoiwQ-xCaxmfRggFXE/s1600-h/Bilde+61.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmFjdEn4ge2SPZrUtiOKFFwgv3xqsBYBU02M493ezPVj_TcWSVjkQwvvmnWq5uHMm5wkzriVXt0g-JCkurfLW2X9ZCLbZqU6gJwA0z2GI8dMDbOKzmTajVs7fK-XoiwQ-xCaxmfRggFXE/s200/Bilde+61.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221494285048309026" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmSujvd8dyq7JyIta2ZdhQvCsMprnnQ4n3kDEF-EsMLNeDrBfg4yM1mH2vFj7lZq4xvX24GXoE83HF8HfbFszJvzQL03jzHZ1KcKGWmr9e7r8Godu8q52rAutR5P4HOygT83zNvjGPzeE/s1600-h/Bilde+62.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmSujvd8dyq7JyIta2ZdhQvCsMprnnQ4n3kDEF-EsMLNeDrBfg4yM1mH2vFj7lZq4xvX24GXoE83HF8HfbFszJvzQL03jzHZ1KcKGWmr9e7r8Godu8q52rAutR5P4HOygT83zNvjGPzeE/s200/Bilde+62.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221494292019146802" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL2-hPWRDeCls69WL-ZwQFeNvJIk2vsYMUkHHvDKjm6asSPJuSWXkxWrwR9uXvZwjMge-Q3yOePgw6s4urPBXgYyp34uS3GFHxUFw-ZJqNxPWUT8uuY4yfxvfLjrhyzw_v3Kpl5kazqsk/s1600-h/Bilde+63.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL2-hPWRDeCls69WL-ZwQFeNvJIk2vsYMUkHHvDKjm6asSPJuSWXkxWrwR9uXvZwjMge-Q3yOePgw6s4urPBXgYyp34uS3GFHxUFw-ZJqNxPWUT8uuY4yfxvfLjrhyzw_v3Kpl5kazqsk/s200/Bilde+63.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221494294137258450" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLlQG0zDLh2ACM1m6qJwNG-DOwjpzeHOoSSFdvQgvQhydQqZj7cVSxjZM2-iW-aJqFDsIAJsat5lyQ5ehKuTRE9LIB4on_vQFPN0aycjH-R-xmLzMq0Knqq3d1fDrqYOMR_eQ9XMkN7Lg/s1600-h/Bilde+64.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLlQG0zDLh2ACM1m6qJwNG-DOwjpzeHOoSSFdvQgvQhydQqZj7cVSxjZM2-iW-aJqFDsIAJsat5lyQ5ehKuTRE9LIB4on_vQFPN0aycjH-R-xmLzMq0Knqq3d1fDrqYOMR_eQ9XMkN7Lg/s200/Bilde+64.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221494296963562578" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu2xQYRz6y-U9nGoe7gom0fpzH47uQvoZlZdvkXiQZZdkRGHttJWUoUtPR_Jud1Vgz_z_ZQ8C6qRLzHYTtyI4xP9dZYhwZ_nti2zByqIWaRrARtDIq8npPe4quZ1gtbATKf162CH1O_HI/s1600-h/Bilde+67.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu2xQYRz6y-U9nGoe7gom0fpzH47uQvoZlZdvkXiQZZdkRGHttJWUoUtPR_Jud1Vgz_z_ZQ8C6qRLzHYTtyI4xP9dZYhwZ_nti2zByqIWaRrARtDIq8npPe4quZ1gtbATKf162CH1O_HI/s200/Bilde+67.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221495511164962450" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEP8fAwbTMNJyshF6LxEOx5q3xFh3EQYPDaSYv-kx_8-KTcf6EG0mFizKYBOGY76f1VkLtYtWT8YpxQcBrnvZZ85YQEGy1dDoD-RiZSmfBV4Y9tgrMLcZEsXkQ7D9NPzTorF7M4f5OQ5g/s1600-h/Bilde+68.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEP8fAwbTMNJyshF6LxEOx5q3xFh3EQYPDaSYv-kx_8-KTcf6EG0mFizKYBOGY76f1VkLtYtWT8YpxQcBrnvZZ85YQEGy1dDoD-RiZSmfBV4Y9tgrMLcZEsXkQ7D9NPzTorF7M4f5OQ5g/s200/Bilde+68.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221495512566330546" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI3_7OS6fNG70345kydpacqQ5VRTsqEXM-TuNz3f2Io5zI_i0T3MOsaKoy6i7pxpriMxIZ08ZoHZ3Ma4z9KfbcAo7sUeK3IO4xfx7DA_yWEd2UOo-P5P_XaB7zTSFOADD29mrbF7-qpS4/s1600-h/Bilde+69.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI3_7OS6fNG70345kydpacqQ5VRTsqEXM-TuNz3f2Io5zI_i0T3MOsaKoy6i7pxpriMxIZ08ZoHZ3Ma4z9KfbcAo7sUeK3IO4xfx7DA_yWEd2UOo-P5P_XaB7zTSFOADD29mrbF7-qpS4/s200/Bilde+69.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221495514283604786" border="0" /></a>Skünkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00307192201896710939noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6529274845080550945.post-47442267198887656852008-07-02T15:14:00.000-07:002008-07-02T16:02:05.929-07:00CherrycopsYou can say a lot of stuff about cops, and I'm sure you'll even find some arguments for why we need pigs in our everyday society. But I want to say one thing: Mallcops are probably the most incompetent, ignorant, dried up cops in the world. You know, I think I haven't been to a town and stayed there for more than two days yet without getting into confrontation with the securitas.<br />I remember my first confrontation with a mallcop, more correctly a grocery storecop. I think I was 9 or something and I was gonna steal a chocolate bar when suddenly on my way out of the store, this huge, old, germanlooking fuckhead grabs my arm and stares right into me as if I had just raped his daughter or something. So the motherfucker looks at me and goes "So when are you gonna pay for the chocolate?" and I almost pissed my pants. I'm dead serious. This guy looked like he was gonna choke me any second. I don't remember if it was 20 minutes or two hours but I spent a lot of time in his office waiting for my dad to pick me up.<br />You'd think a creepy experience like that would've made me a uptight citizen but that's fucken bullshit. I became a active everyday shoplifter which has lead me into many exciting adventures and confrontations with the so called knights of public security. I mean, yeah, it's okay that they do their job, for all sake. But it's not like they're saving any lives or making a difference except ruining a day for the shoplifter and serving the evergrowing corporations best interests though they wouldn't even suffer a economical loss from the deposit. One thing is a actual robbery, me stealing a pack of food, batteries, beer or whatever does not go against the company's best interest, 10% of all their shit is given away to employes or trashed because it expires, so why the fuck not put it to some goddamn use instead?<br />Alright, so let's say they're just doing their job, just putting some goddamn food on the fucking table. But why the fuck do you pick on people who haven't even done anything? Another great example of power abuse was just yesterday when I went back to Moss (fucking place of my dreams) at first, we crash at the floor outside a store at the Amfi mall. We laugh and me and Steffen wrestled a bit but people who walked by just smiled and minded their own business and didn't seem to care for a bunch of punks outside the toy store. So we got up, headed out and sat outside the Amfi just to grab some sun. So there we were, just sitting there not hurting a fly and talking when this goddamn motherfucker in his buttugly blue uniform, three fucking cherries on his shoulder walks up to us. "You kids can't stay here, move away from the mall." we're like "what? We're not hurting anyone." And the bastard goes "Well you can't sit outside the mall." So we're like "why not? we were sitting inside previously just a few minutes ago." the dickhead scratches his head and goes "because I say so that's why."<br />We're like "What you don't have any authority, you're a mallcop."<br />Guard: "It's against our policy.. blah blah blah it's not because you guys are punks or rockers or whatever you are. Don't you have Kåntra or something?"<br />Steffen: "Fuck you, man. We're like Emo kids" *(everyone bursts out in laughter)<br />Robin: "Nah it's closed and none of us" got the keys."<br />Guard: "Well you can't hang out here."<br />Robin: "So it's not legal to hang out at a mall? what the fuck?"<br />Guard: "You can stay there but you can't just relax and stand there without doing anything. How would you react if I came to your garden with a few of my friends and hung out there?"<br />Robin replied to this with a very cheerful answer.<br />"Why, sure. That'd be awesome! How about eight? you can get sodas and cake and shit."<br />This put the motherfucker pretty out of replies so he just told us to get lost which we occasinally did after a while, we moved five metres away and over to the stairs and hung out there for two hours. I can't really see what his problem was in the first place since there weren't even any people there. God, I hate fucking cherrycops, I got plenty of other stories but they'll have to wait for some other time. Fuck off, i'm off to get something to drink.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://multimedia.api.no/www.siste.no/dynamic/01617/20071217-108_1617861m.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 666px; height: 275px;" src="http://multimedia.api.no/www.siste.no/dynamic/01617/20071217-108_1617861m.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>Skünkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00307192201896710939noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6529274845080550945.post-48095379830561827942008-06-30T13:47:00.000-07:002008-06-30T13:48:52.354-07:00Poem shitDecided to post this old piece of shit poem I wrote ages ago.poem. Much inspired by Crass, yep yep.<br /><br />I am shit.<br />I am trash.<br />I am garbage.<br />I do not respond, I do not respond.<br />I am beautiful.<br />I am fucked.<br /><br />I am shit.<br />Shit compared to you and your kind, your perfect, mindless species.<br />I am trash.<br />Trash on the filthy streets below your utopia.<br />I am garbage.<br />Garbage on the surface of your evolving world, your era of technology and civilization.<br /><br />I am beautiful. I am truly fucked.<br /><br />You call it society, oh mighty society, how do i make myself useful?<br />What should i do to please you oh mighty society?<br />I shall give up my destructive ways.<br />I shall give up my belief in unity between all people.<br />I shall give up my dreams of a world so peaceful we will have no need for nor leaders nor control.<br />I shall give up my dreams of a world where nor animal nor man need to be slaughtered.<br />I shall give up my dreams of love between people no matter where you are from or how you are made.<br />I shall no longer spend my hours laying in the grass outside of your protecting walls, loving, dreaming and wasting away my time. I will work, work work in your factories, your units, i will make you go around, and i will once and for all give up my ways.<br />And i shall consume, oh society, how i shall consume.<br />I shall contribute to you, oh society, through consuming,<br />consume consume consume consume.<br />Oh society, please forgive me because i cannot follow your guidelines,<br />Because i am just a mere romantic.<br />I am shit.<br />I am trash.<br />I am garbage.<br />I do not respond, i do not respond.<br />I am beautiful.<br />I am fucked.<br />I am still just a individual...Skünkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00307192201896710939noreply@blogger.com0