Norwegian according to Lulu

Min søte, engelske venn Lulu har virkelig lagt seg i selen for å gjøre seg forstått når hun sender meg beskjeder på facebook. Hun har slått opp hvert ord i en online dictionary og oversatt det til Norsk. sånn ser det ut når Lulu prøver seg på norsk:

Jeg gikk omkring campus for minst tjue minutes. se ut som en gal bitch som var høy på noe ! til mitt hell, jeg kommet over noe tilfeldig full kar og lånte hans telefon til å kalle sikkerheten.. Det eneste problemet er han startet følgende meg da jeg startet å gåing som er bak til det flate ! drama ! drama ! Jeg returnerer din nøkkel sammen med gruvedrift når jeg forlater. det vil være om to dager. Å, og jeg fikk til slutt din hoste... takker deg gerda ! ! du søt hjerte ! : -P Geerrddaa ! !!!! haha ! ! hvordan er fridagen som drar ? Gud, jeg kan ikke tro jeg fikk 71,4. du får hva du ville ? mangler deg mye ! lulu xoxoxoxox

Hei søt terte. ofcourse som du kan bruke min nordmann på din blogg !

I løpet av denne sommeren er jeg slik travel. jeg gjør et forretningsutviklingsprogrÅ ! !!! som jeg liker hvordan du brukte det bildet på din blogg ! spesielt når vi begge vet hva jeg ser ut som om morgenen ! : -D





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Things you didn't know about me

I have many secrets. Some of you already know one or two. I spread bits and pieces around to different people, but I never reveal the whole truth about myself to one person.

Today I have decided to tell you some facts and rumours you probably haven’t heard and perhaps you didn’t want to know about me.

Enjoy!

I have three nipples. My third nipple (or super-nipple as I prefer to call it) is situated about ten centimetres below my left breast and it looks just like a mole. Supernumerary nipples occur in about 1 in 18 humans, and it is also common among other mammals. Lily Allen and Mark Wahlberg also have one.

I have 89 cousins. My granddad was known as a great Casanova in his youth. He was married most of his life but that didn’t stop him from spreading his genes around the country.

Do this picture need more
explaining?----------->

I’m afraid of dolls.

The reason why I am two-three years older than most of the students on my course, is because I spent a year in a juvenile correctional facility at home for committing a crime. This happened in my second year in secondary school, so I had to take the year over again when I came out.

I’m a big fat liar.

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A conversation with an emo kid

My sister is an emo kid. She has told me all about being emo. If you want to know how an emo-mind works, keep reading:

EMOTIONS

Being an emo-kid is not all about the looks. Its about EMOTIONS. Emo-kids are very much in touch with their feelings and they have a broader perspective of feelings than regular people do. And when they feel things, the feeling is ten times stronger than when regular people feel.

LOVE

Her boyfriend has the excact same haircut as her. (long, coloured black hair with a long, sideswept fringe) and they share eye-liner (MAC in very black) they take the bus together when they are meeting up with other emos. They sit side by side and listen to My chemical romance on the black ipod, wearing one earplug each.

FRIENDSHIP

When emo-kids meet they watch corpse-bride and Salad-fingers on youtube and recite Edgar Allan Poe poetry together. They talk about how stupid people are to discriminate them and how unfair the world is treating them.

SELF HURTING

Emos have as mentioned earlier very strong emotions. They are mostly depressive ones. These emotions are to be shared with the world. The way they do it is by cutting the pale, pale skin on their arms so that people see their scars and know they are suffering. My sister plays with Cedric, so he scratches up her arms so much it bleeds. It makes her feel better, she says. And it looks really cool.

Emos have been trained to not laugh of jokes. My sister has a mantra she repeats to herself whenever she has the urge to laugh; “Gerard Way is dead”. One of her more extreme friends put razorblades in his anus and clench his butt cheeks together when he feels like laughing.

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the Cat-Lady

The crazy cat-lady

I am planning on staying single forever. As time goes by, I’m going to grow weirder, happier and more stubborn every year. When all my friends are living as pensioners in Spain with their spouses, I will go by myself to little cafés to read books and drink coffee, wearing hats that were fashionable two decades ago. I want to live in a house with a garden and at least six cats. When I die, I want to be buried underneath a cherry-tree in my little garden and have all my six cats pee on the wild roses growing on my grave.

Unless, I meet someone worth sharing my time with. My grandfather used to say “Life is too short to pick ugly flowers”. Wise words from a wise man. (However a bit ironic considering he married Grandma.) Anyway… Don’t interpret the saying too literally. It is not about looks. The reason why I’m going to stay single forever is because I really doubt I will ever find a man who is all of the following:

• French. Or French-speaking. Just because I love the language. And because he could whisper things I wouldn’t know the meaning of in my ear.

• Between 179 and 189cm tall. He must tall enough for me to wear heels, but not so tall I feel small.

• Good-looking but not better looking than me. I read in the Easy jet flight magazine that in couples were the woman is prettier than the man are usually happier than when the man is prettier than the woman.

• He must be funny.
• he must like animals and prefer cats over dogs.
  
• he must respect people that are different from himself.

• He should say something nice to me at least once every hour. Except from when I’m sleeping. That would just be annoying
• he must be able and willing to carry me + 10 kg (in case I gain weight in the future)
  

• He should know how to cook. Toasting bread does not count for cooking.

• He does not like football. He can PLAY football if he wants, and watch a game occasionally as long as it is not more often than once a year and he does not own any supporter gear.

• He must have a life. And do something outside the home at least three times a week. (work and grocery-shopping does not count)

• I prefer a guy who is neither alcoholic nor addicted to drugs.
• he must be able to fly

• Cat-allergy is not very sexy
• he must not do or have the desire to do any of the following: own an SUV, kill kttens, take advantage of prostitutes or have a tribal-tattoo done.
  

• He should know how to dress. And should avoid wearing anything with cleavage, bling or Fpu-logos.
  
• he must not wear regular socks with shorts. alternatively he can wear TRAINER-SOCKS. trainer socks would impress me.
  
• he must be open-minded.
  

• Intelligent. Someone has got to do the thinking of us.

• Not too old and not too young. He must have been born in the same decade as me, but be at least 2 years older than my sister.
• He should have either freckles, a three-day beard or smile-dimples but it is not a must.
• he must own a minimum of three pairs of shoes
  
• he must be brave enough to sing karaoke even though he sucks at it
• he sucks at karaoke and knows it
• he must read at least two novels a year
• he must like at least three of the following: Hank von Helvete, Sylvia Plath, David Lynch and Debbie Harry.
• he should not have hair between his eyebrows or on his back. In that case, he must wax it off.
• he must notice me when I'm standing next to Elvira (aka Lisa Lovheim)
• He must not have hedgehog-hair nor must he use any of the following hair-products: dry-shampoo, highlighting, hairSPRAY, mousse and GEL. (especially gel). However, hairpaste and wax are acceptable products for a man to use.
  
• he must wash his hands before eating and after going to the loo. He must also brush his teeth at least twice a day. (laugh all you want girls, but not all guys do this)
• it would also be an advantage if he actually LIKED me.
  

Obviously this man does not exist, so I will just have to settle down with my six cats and live happily ever after.

PS THIS IS NOT A PERSONAL AD!

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mors bursdag

Mor har bursdag om 3dager. (Samme dag som Hitler, hihihi) Hun er faktisk barnsligere enn meg og alle søsknene mine til sammen. dette er invitasjonen hun sendte til vennnene sine:

(står skreve med barneskrift) HEI VIL DU KÅMME TE MIN 5(4) ÅRSDAG.. FREDA KLÅKKA HALL ÅTTE?? ØNSKELISTE: LOKTELYS, SÆRVIETTER, STEINER, SJÆLL, HØNSEJØSSEL. MENY: PØLSE Å BRUS. ANTRKK: HÅRSLØYFE, HALLSOKKER ÆLLER KNESTRØMPE. HILSEN ÅSE

og det beste er at hun faktisk har kjøpt inn pølser, eventyrbrus og pølsebrød!
Jeg må le.
Gratulerer med dagen mor (litt på forskudd)



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what to do? help a woman in her boredom (is that even a word?)

Here is a list of things to do so I don’t spend the next four days on facebook-stalking and playing solitaire:

Read all my receipts from the two last terms, (I save them. Just in case.) Classify the types of items purchased. I wonder what the most common article is. Bread? Beer? (But that of course depends on whether I count every single beer or sixpack) If I do that, the fact that I have been saving all my receipts since 2005 would somehow feel justified.

Make an art installation of the huge granny pants I bought in Primark. They were the wrong size but I don’t want to throw them away.

Call random numbers on the extension line and ask people if they want to have an outdoors party with me in the park. Hopefully a large number of people would turn up, including David Blaine.

Purchase many boxes of Lego-bricks and build something useful like a clothes-rack to have in my room. That would be rather expensive tough, seeing as a 500-piece box of LEGO is 13pounds and I guess I would need at least two boxes to build something worth building. However, I would consider it a long-term investment, because I could have them and play with them as much as I wanted in the future.

What do you think I should do? Vote here: