Welcome to Skottustelpa's page of fun and games. Skottustelpa is amazing, beautiful and incredibly talented. Everyone loves Skottustelpa. Go, Skottustelpa, go!
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| Skottustelpa, The Continuing Saga Welcome to Skottustelpa's page of fun and games. Skottustelpa is amazing, beautiful and incredibly talented. Everyone loves Skottustelpa. Go, Skottustelpa, go! |
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Monday, October 01, 2007 Spent the morning in the company of my homegirl. We hung out windowshopping, she frequently commenting "I'll buy this Saturday" wich made us both feel like we could afford shopping. I looked like your average hillbilly wich made me feel like one of those eccentric rich artists types who have so much money they don't give a shit what they wear. This is my favorite gear. Preferably stepping out of a taxi, wearing my skirt over my pajamapants, my stuff in a plastic bag advertising your local supermarket. Being raised in the country of Bjork one believes one can get away with such behaviour without being thought of as a drunk who just got his monthly check and is now stepping out of a taxi with all his belongings in a plastic bag, to go buy beer and cigarettes. Anyways, so, looking like a hillbilly, me and my homegirl went for coffee and our pick was this terriblie trendy expresso machine store and café in the city center. There we invested in the most expensive lattes I have ever come accross. We did because we thought this price meant that the latte provided an orgasm. It came close. The free glossy mag you could read while waiting for your diamond priced latte turned out to be an ad for the company and revealed that it actually was Nestle. Nestle we associate with childhood memories of chockolate milk pulver in a yellow box with a rabbit on it. And baby food. Not quite a orgasm, not even a Harry met Sally orgasm (which was considered, if only for the cameras watching us drinking our coffee). Not a dissapointment either. The morning was an alltogether pleasurable experience due to the wonderful company. More. Finally Joost. I don't know if you know this but here in Denmark you have to pay something called "Media Licence" to the state run television network. It's like this in socio-democraticly run countries. You used to pay licence if you had a TV. Now, because you can access some selected TV broadcasts on the internet, they want you to pay. If we all were to practice this, I would then for example be able to charge the state run TV station for their access to my blog. Don't care if they read it or not, they access the device that can access my blog, so they should pay me licence. I know, it's absurd. Reality, nevertheless. I don't have a TV, and haven't had one for years, but all of a sudden I have to pay for TV I don't watch because I have a computer. This is why people like me adore business men like the ones who stand behind Joost, who happen to be the infant terrible guys behind Skype. I urge you to support this initiative and visit the page if you haven't already. It's basically free internet TV. And now, for the sadder things. Louise Maxwell passed away. For those of you who are not aware of who this woman is, meet her as Miss Moneypenny, M's secretary (you know guys, from the James Bond films!):  She was a wonderful Miss Moneypenny. Labels: Of fun and games, Out on the town, RIP posted by Skotta | 2:14 PM | |
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