Still in Oslo, I guess.

So, for reasons I don't want to spell out, I have canceled my aforementioned trip to the west coast, and hence, I am still in Oslo, and will stay until I return to NYC by way of Iceland. The Øya Festival is coming up, though, which is cool, so I'll try to catch some cool stuff there!

In other news, Russia started dropping bombs on Georgia a couple of hours after I left the country, surely as a generous and friendly "Thank You, Come Again!" gesture from Georgia's slavic brothers in the north. A day earlier, and we would have been driving through that exact area, so yeah, good timing, friendly Russians! Here is my good friend Giorgi, LIVE ON FREAKIN' CNN, discussing this most friendly of droppings.

Alright, so speaking of which, here is a little rant for you: On the plane back from Georgia, when I was able to get my attention off Vomiting Girl Who Smelled Like Goat next to me (and by the way, damn you for stealing my headset! OK, fine, so it was actually ME stealing YOUR headset, but it was only because your freakin' brother had been chewing on it! I GOT SALIVA IN MY EAR, dammit!!), they showed the movie Becoming Jane, with Anne Hathaway as a young and probably much-sexier-than-in-real-life Jane Austen. I mean, Hathaway is moderately hot, of course, but fuck, that was a shitty freakin' movie.

You know, English Victorian age dramas really fucking rub me the wrong way. I mean, the issue is always something like, "Oh, I shall not be able to marry Master Reginald, for I am an unpure woman after accidentally yet dramatically showing my ankle," or "I can't marry Master Reginald, for my uncle is German. Now I shall dramatically play the harpsichord!", or "I am offended! I shall sit down and look dramatically into the air!" or something similarly ridiculous! Like, what the fuck? How is this relevant to my life? How the fuck is this relevant or even VAGUELY interesting to ANYONE in the 21st fucking century? These fucking people in their bell-shaped dresses, or with their fucking curly moustaches, riding around on horses, not doing any fucking thing but sewing and playing the fucking piano! Seriously! What is the point? Stop making shitty movies like that! Jane Fucking Austen is dead, and let us never again remind the world that such a ghastly, wretched writer ever fucking existed!

With that, I bid thee all a blessed eventide!

Affectionally and Dramatically,

Master Thor of the Manor.