Proof positively, Bruce Campbell IS The Man...
9.1.07
8.1.07
Neighbors schmeibors! Fog Schmog!
It's January, it's winter (or whatever one would call it these days - it's certainly not of the snowy, white variety as popularized by the Coke commercials) and it's Monday; in other words, the perfect setting for a rant or two.
Rant subject #1: Neighbors.
Generally, I get on pretty well with my neighbors. As in, I don't bother them and they mostly don't bother me. Much. Apart from that guy that sings in the shower - loudly and horribly out of tune - and whose voice magically transfers very well to MY bathroom through our shared ventilation shaft. Then, there are the folks living in the apartment above me, that seem to do a lot of furniture rearranging. After midnight. On Tuesdays. Why after midnight? Why Tuesdays? I fear these are questions I'll never know the answers to (I'll put them up on my long list of unanswered questions, like where do all my left socks, pencils and guitar picks go when they suddenly disappear).
Lastly, there's the mystery woman living in the apartment next to mine; this morning, as I picked up my newspaper, I tripped in her slalom gear that was haphazardly placed against her door - it was there last night as well. Who leaves their slalom gear outside their door for more than a day? Is it some secret getaway solution - can I expect my neighbor to one day escape some unknown fiend by sliding down the stairway in a Bond-like fashion? Although it's not completely improbable that she's some kind of secret agent - I have, after all, only met her twice since I moved here - I do doubt the efficiency of escaping potential thugs by sliding down a concrete stairway on slalom skis. The Bond Aficianados might beg to differ.
Rant subject #2: Weather.
More specifically, fog. I have a serious problem with fog. Not as FOG, but as weather. I mean, rain, wind and snow all have some sort of purpose; we need water for our lawns, wind for our para-gliders and snow for our Christmas clichés, but what the heck is fog good for? FOG - huh - what is it good for? Absolutely nothing! Say it again. Fog is not weather; it's a horror B-movie prop. Whenever there's fog outside, I half expect to see Bela Lugosi pop out and go "Chiiildren of the niiight" or something along those lines.
Fog isn't weather; it's colorized (gray) rain without the proper h2o percentage. What do we need it for? I'm pretty sure fog is one big elaborate joke staged by some top secret meteorologists' society just to annoy us. I bet part of those huge electricity bills (this is Norway, after all - it's not like we have abundances of water or anything) go to pay for a big-ass smoke machine somewhere in the hills. Seriously, this morning it was dark AND foggy. Yes. This is Norway; during winter, mornings are pitch black ANYWAY. What does the fog add to pitch black? Nothing but atmosphere. And I don't need no frickin' atmosphere with my pitch blackness, thank you very much - I can be grumpy on Monday mornings without atmosphere. Fog, I've officially taken you off the weather list. So there.
(See, this is what you get when I submit to peer pressure and blog without having anything to say; rants. You asked for it!)
Rant subject #1: Neighbors.
Generally, I get on pretty well with my neighbors. As in, I don't bother them and they mostly don't bother me. Much. Apart from that guy that sings in the shower - loudly and horribly out of tune - and whose voice magically transfers very well to MY bathroom through our shared ventilation shaft. Then, there are the folks living in the apartment above me, that seem to do a lot of furniture rearranging. After midnight. On Tuesdays. Why after midnight? Why Tuesdays? I fear these are questions I'll never know the answers to (I'll put them up on my long list of unanswered questions, like where do all my left socks, pencils and guitar picks go when they suddenly disappear).
Lastly, there's the mystery woman living in the apartment next to mine; this morning, as I picked up my newspaper, I tripped in her slalom gear that was haphazardly placed against her door - it was there last night as well. Who leaves their slalom gear outside their door for more than a day? Is it some secret getaway solution - can I expect my neighbor to one day escape some unknown fiend by sliding down the stairway in a Bond-like fashion? Although it's not completely improbable that she's some kind of secret agent - I have, after all, only met her twice since I moved here - I do doubt the efficiency of escaping potential thugs by sliding down a concrete stairway on slalom skis. The Bond Aficianados might beg to differ.
Rant subject #2: Weather.
More specifically, fog. I have a serious problem with fog. Not as FOG, but as weather. I mean, rain, wind and snow all have some sort of purpose; we need water for our lawns, wind for our para-gliders and snow for our Christmas clichés, but what the heck is fog good for? FOG - huh - what is it good for? Absolutely nothing! Say it again. Fog is not weather; it's a horror B-movie prop. Whenever there's fog outside, I half expect to see Bela Lugosi pop out and go "Chiiildren of the niiight" or something along those lines.
Fog isn't weather; it's colorized (gray) rain without the proper h2o percentage. What do we need it for? I'm pretty sure fog is one big elaborate joke staged by some top secret meteorologists' society just to annoy us. I bet part of those huge electricity bills (this is Norway, after all - it's not like we have abundances of water or anything) go to pay for a big-ass smoke machine somewhere in the hills. Seriously, this morning it was dark AND foggy. Yes. This is Norway; during winter, mornings are pitch black ANYWAY. What does the fog add to pitch black? Nothing but atmosphere. And I don't need no frickin' atmosphere with my pitch blackness, thank you very much - I can be grumpy on Monday mornings without atmosphere. Fog, I've officially taken you off the weather list. So there.
(See, this is what you get when I submit to peer pressure and blog without having anything to say; rants. You asked for it!)
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