Archive for April 10, 2007

BRAVE New Scientist

What do you think in your own honest opinion?

Do coffee and cigarettes protect against Parkinson’s?

With that article in mind, to my next question, do coffee and cigarettes protect ME against cancer?

I shared a cigarette last week with my cousin Oskar, pretty much the only real author in the family (if you don’t count Gunnar Falkås who buried his book when it was published. Please Oskar, don’t bury your book for although I don’t understand a word of it, I know it’s genius from just talking to you. Just make sure to figure out what 9 inch is in centimeters, or was it vice versa?).

Smoking was surprisingly refreshing when sitting outside in the countryside in Ränne, although afterwards I STUNK LIKE SHIT. I haven’t done anything of the like since eating delicious crèpes and drinking FRENCH cider in Quartier Latin, in Paris 1997 with my own Norwegian Kate Moss and brilliant co-scientist, Cecilie Odden. And to think you hardly spoke a word of French then, yet communicated perfectly. You (we?) got the garcon (advice to you readers, don’t even think about calling men in restaurants “garcon” in France. Actually YES, please do!) to buy the cigarettes for us! I love you, my girlfriend.

Intensive Care (I will always love you)

It’s ALMOST humorous how recent events have resulted in my very own “Metamorphosis” (I don’t think I have ever read anything by Franz Kafka, only seen his house in Prague, but I like the title of his books and my life is currently very “surreal but nice”). What I partly mean by the word metamorphosis (“Etymology: Latin, from Greek metamorphOsis, from metamorphoun to transform, from meta- + morphE form”) is that I don’t hear any lovebirds in music lyrics any more, which is SAD. No, I am not suffering from seasonal affective disorder, although perhaps the Stockholm syndrome. For example, my sister-in-law and I LOVE ROBBIE WILLIAMS because he is so hot, cool, sexy and perverted and entertains women (and men, even those who won’t admit it) beyond belief. Don’t even get me started on the two of us and U2. Hence, to get me in the mood, I now wish to listen to Robbie Williams so that I should feel mentally less insane…

As I thumb through my RW collection in my car, which I am interestingly (legally) not allowed to drive (because of my radiation therapy?), I instinctively pick out one of his more recent records “Intensive Care”. I thought, well, lets see here, I know a thing or two about intensive care at ER and Neurology – at least from the receiving end. Let me just tell you this:

Tripping ghosts
Make me pure and spread your wings
Please don’t die, advertising space
Random acts of kindness (the trouble with me)
A place to crash your gay friend
SIN SIN SIN!!
Queen of bloke and bird

Need to get going now after such a refreshing start to the day, for life is back to “normal” again after the holiday season. I love the word normal. I am so f***ing normal and legally blond that I almost want to go to Saipan and pretend I am Dolly Parton (who has FINALLY come out with a book I want to read. I need to wait for it to come out as a pocket first, though, or I won’t be able to squeeze it into my handbag affordably or use it as a Shoeless club book).

Love,
Rainbow Bright

Smart Blondin

P.S. Dana (Dino) and Andrea (Andrews), apologies, now the entire world knows Gorbachev’s password. What time is it anyway? I want to know in Swedish Celcius, because Andrews, Farenheit is a complete joke if you ask me and, possibly, the “harry bald guy” (I finally get why the two of you totally lost it over that expression. Common, I could hardly speak English and least of all spell). I am today willing to admit that it doesn’t matter what Sweden, America or Israel think, for Absolute zero is still at −459.67°F. Oh and guys, Roy Orbison’s right, MEKANS ARE OISHI, Ye Pretty Women, even on the small Seisen Catholic lunch tables! Whereto next to spread all our (in)sane insights and conversations, for what can I say? “Ding dong the wicked witch is dead” and my humble thanks.