Latest ten days of posting

Weblog | I don't like the word blog, it's ugly. Anyway, new content happens here. (Swedish dito)

About me and the site | Twenty-something male who likes text. Obsessed with things such as books, reality, communication, and one or two tv-shows.

Archives | Things written here since... well, 2001. Some of it is good, some is utter shait.

Books | Books read, not books written. So far I've struggled to maintain unpublished.

Photo | I like my camera and it likes me.

Links | Outwards, away, flee.

e-mail | J. Nicklas Andersson

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2003-03-01

Don’t know where or how I found it, it was just there when I cycled through the windows: the cthuugle search engine. Use it carefully or you might lose limbs and, well, I guess more limbs and probably a D100 SAN loss.

When I got home, I made food, the radiation oven was just about to beep and then out of nowhere the phone rang. I ran with the plastic plate in my hands, it was hot and contained rice and bits of chicken in some sort of curry souse. No real surprise about the phone call, it could really only be one person (not many people call me, and that’s the way I want it): Tommy. The phone call lasted about 40 minutes or so, and my food was cold. Ran back, in a wonky fashion, and heated it again. Mmmmm. Food.

Now I’m going to relax and read the comic books I borrowed from Boo: the Crow and Arkham Asylum. Perhaps with a big nice cup of tea.

Oh, no headache anymore and no one could be happier than me. Let me rephrase that: a lot of people could be happier than me, but none of them are here so they don’t count. It stopped yesterday evening. I celebrated with a big glass of Pepsi — after all, I had proven my point. If I had my guitar I would have sung a jaunty tune as well, but I don’t so I didn’t.