I forgot in the last posting that nobody got it right about the theme of the titles. Since nobody got it right or even bothered giving a decent answer, I'm not going to tell you what the theme is. So fuck off.
OK, this was probably one of the longest weeks that I have ever lived through. Finally it came to an end on Friday with an early finish because Jo and Vala were off for some Thelma and Louise road trip action in the East. I formulated a plan to stay in and drink beer for the night, owing to the fact I was getting a tattoo in the morning. I didn't want to turn up at my appointment shitfaced drunk from the night before and end up getting a fucking smurf tattooed on my cock or something similar. Before the beer, Roz, Duncan and I went to the baths (the last time for ten days, because of my tattoo healing, as it turns out...). Again, rather than actually swimming I sat in the hot tubs for an hour. We got chatting to some Danish Lady about the recession, until Duncan said something outlandish and she left.
Back at the gaff, I settled into the night with beer and Wayne's World. I've not seen Wayne's World for a long time. When it came out (In 1992, fact fans...), I was heavily into Metal and had no sense of humour, especially about the things I held dear. Like Metal. I refused to watch it for years, until I finally watched it and thought actually it's an alright film. Problem is, it hasn't aged too well. It all seems a little bit laboured now. OK, it's not an intellectual film by any accounts, but I do like my comedy a bit deeper than that. It passed a couple of hours anyway.
I got up earlyish on Saturday for my eleven o'clock appointment and got down to Sverrir's Tattoo parlour. What was thought to take two hours actually took three hours, what with all the detailing. During this time, Sverrir and I got to know each other a little better... I found out all about his wife, whom he'd married a year previously, all about the farm he owned in the North and his lack of interest in cows, but saintly offerings of his extra Salmon stocks to the local poor people. I found out all about how he started tattooing, all about how he had started dealing drugs at age fourteen. I found out all about the two men he had killed and the eight months he had spent in solitary confinement during his two year jail sentence for manslaughter as a result. Yes, you can find out an awful lot about a man in three hours. The tattoo looked fucking brilliant when he'd finished, murderer or not, he's an excellent artist.
I was finished about two and waiting outside was Roz, looking extremely nervous, for her appointment. She asked me if it had hurt, I said I didn't know as I'd passed out instantly. She didn't appreciate this, and went a whiter shade of pale.
I left Duncan and Roz to get acquainted with Sverrir and his needles and set off to Atli's gaff, where we were going to play out the war of the century on the Axis and Allied board. Lilja was playing this time, as was Hrönn and one of Atli's mates from Keflavik. Lilja drew Japan, Alti was Germany, Hrönn had Britain, Atli's mate (Who's name escapes me...) had Russia and I drew America. Things started in favour of the Axis, Germany made great gains in Africa and Russia. Japan also pushed the USSR back and knocked out America in China. It looked like the fate of the West was in the balance until the Mighty Juggernaut of American Industry pushed Germany out of Africa, took control of Western Europe, smashed Japan out of it's stronghold in India and the Pacific Islands. Surrounded on three sides, Germany surrendered without a fight and Japan followed suit. Atli will blame the fact that Japan never held India as a feeble excuse for losing the game, but we all knew it was bad tactical planning at Axis HQ that lost the day.
After the VE and VJ day celebrations had quietened down we all headed into town for Björgvin's poetry book release do. Turning up late half through the recital, the four of us sheepishly took our seats and got ready for a hard-core poetry fest. In Icelandic. I'm very sure the poems were great, the audience responded well, the background music, provided by Duncan and Hrafnkell, was good, but the only words I understood was when Björgvin told Roz to stop talking.
After this was over the remaining few of us headed out to a bar I've been in before, but cannot for the life of me remember the name of. I talked about the finer points of the game with Atli's chum and corrected a few of his misconceptions about the First World War. I tell you, I'm a fucking PARTYYYYYY GUY!!! Hrappi kindly gave us a lift home and I crashed out pretty drunk and covered in blood and ink.
I spent Sunday doing what should be done on Sunday's, nothing... I watched Monty Python and the Holy Grail and made a video for a song I recorded last year sometime. It's a cover of a Burzum Classic; Lost Wisdom and can be found here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v="cVNZqjznggo
The video is not too important, it is only there so I could post the song up.
