tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61756522011-07-31T00:34:05.269-07:00Sigg3.net's NotepadJust an online notepad when I ain't got my typewriter. Real blog is at <a href="http://sigg3.net">www.sigg3.net</a>!Siggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comBlogger311100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-37447251612701056082010-07-13T01:06:00.001-07:002010-07-13T02:10:15.222-07:00The IT ComponentPer 120 Faculty Staff Member there was one IT support staff and his name was Jacob. Jacob learned the ins and outs of the Faculty business over the years, never once questioning his late night turn-ins and unpaid overtime. He raised questions only when the summer holidays were up, and he didn't receive his salary, because that was company rules. Except he was employed on an Siggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-4189918037834098592008-01-22T12:18:00.000-08:002008-01-22T13:15:37.162-08:00Poem HoorayI'm all alone in my bed,it's cold and the clock's ticking.It is a lonely bedAnd my roommate is fucking.The librarian is away, to Berlin,and in her place a couple with needs.-- Now they're fucking too.Through the panting, gasps, giggles and moansI try to recall what I wrote Mill two years ago,which is really hard.And I cannot fall asleep, no,I am still here, all alone.And no one would Siggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-75356654292268231292008-01-11T01:33:00.000-08:002008-01-11T01:48:02.619-08:00Book of ReynoldsI had a Poodle named Poowho always bit my shoes.So I smashed his head into the wall, hit him with a frying pan,shook his body until it expired, and sucked up the brain matterwith a straw.I took a pair of kitchen scissors and opened up his chest,the Poodle named Poo was full of it; butterfly cocoons.No wonder he had been acting so crazy.They were: Hope, Happiness, Family, Love, Siggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-69362128552894628432008-01-10T02:00:00.000-08:002008-01-10T02:01:59.493-08:00The build-up to the Landing in a 19th-century brothel with a view to the AirshipsOver a hanging bridge clad in black, rotten creepers, we two ventured into the impossible part of the forest on the forbidden side. I had devised a plan and disguise, we were dressed like birch trees, young and proud; and on the path to open sky we came across a colleague who was lost in her mind.We exchanged Siggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-4298825613746030272007-11-16T09:15:00.000-08:002007-11-16T09:51:39.159-08:00Plus des temps; the joys of food on dreamsor Sunday Steampunk DreamingClear your temples, people, 'cause I want to take you with me on the sickening journey of Friday food poisoning Steampunk Dreaming.It was a Saturday so cold that the air could cut glass, and waiting with my brother for my second brother my knees were weak and my vision haunting. The night before we'd gone out to check out the Siggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-84962000413823298722007-10-29T04:10:00.000-07:002007-10-29T04:19:35.084-07:00By the eyes of the millionNasty, I say Nasty, fornication with a half-hearted hog."Faster! Faster! Faster!" she screamed as we sent the acolytes down to watch television or tune in to the finer understanding of the Universe's total unity of which we presently took no official part."Listen, young lady," I said, hoping my loathe did not slip past the vocal guards, "If I go any faster now, we're Siggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-1168447415815004062007-01-10T08:43:00.000-08:002007-01-10T09:16:01.060-08:00Are zippers sexy or what?I just took the elevator now, and I was checking myself out in the mirror - since there was nobody else there - and I took a peek at my front zipper, and I realized that it's quite an elegant piece of genius right there.Now. In my humble opinion a well-functioning zipper that's working like a dream and blends seamlessly into the fabric in terms of colour, is to be Siggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-1159220213612146412006-09-25T13:47:00.000-07:002006-09-25T15:22:30.016-07:00The Zoning ReportI was somewhere in the vicinity of the Piña Colada galaxy investigating an unchartered cluster of purple moons when the teleporter hurled me haplessly into the void.I knew there had been a fuckup on the teleporter deck, 'cause I'd been several sections away, I wasn't wearing a protection suit at the time, and there was somebody's hand sticking out of my chest. 'Could be the Siggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-1148896803597366442006-05-29T02:55:00.000-07:002006-05-29T03:00:03.606-07:00InlookAnother miserable day.If I had been a horse, would they have shot me for boredom, I wonder.It must be boring being a horse, but at least you can sleep standing up,something I've often tried and it always ends in horror.If I had been a fish, would I have closed my gills and dropped to the bottom?Or - If I was a salmon - gone and get laid before dying?I like the way salmons live.All their Siggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-1146493607378069062006-05-01T06:49:00.000-07:002006-05-01T08:02:02.826-07:00Losing grip (D013933)The skin around my nails was always hard and white. You could pull off chunks, but it wouldn't bleed noticably, and another layer would grow. I could never stop picking it.It was a Friday evening it happened. I wasn't going out, but my body ached for a drink. I came down to the subway station, it's more of a stop really, and a group of outgoing types, boys and girls dressed Siggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-1141492618611141722006-03-04T09:15:00.000-08:002006-03-04T14:58:43.666-08:00Man, I love tits.There's a variety of tits that slips away from most men's conscience, as most men tend to grow weary of illumination and rather leap into action. But I do love tits, and I appreciate their fulfilling diversity.There are tits for each and every occasion, tits for various outfits, tits for late afternoon dinner parties, tits for long fur coats weared in the theatre, there are tits Siggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-1132235331336872012005-11-17T05:48:00.000-08:002005-11-17T05:51:08.040-08:00Sunset showdown in the afternoon of pre-cognitive romanceRaise your banner and flag, seen such spectacles at the end of the solar system?Why not lie in bed, when the sun sets each day?But you're missing the point!What golden medals of inquiry follows the path of man as he ventures forth into the night of ignorance. Seemingly unfit for the perilous realm of bureacratic systems made to tear him Siggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-1120676878543126772005-07-06T12:07:00.000-07:002005-07-06T12:18:00.560-07:00Living la vida Estonia (Three day trip to Talinn)Homemade (ramble)So I'm at this café at Oslo airport, right? I'm there for nothing but a cup of coffee, and standing in line there, I notice these huge chocolate muffins the size of a sheep's head, which costs nearly fifty NOK each (that's about ten dollars). They are big, of course, and the looks of it reveals quite a good mocca fill. Anyway, the Siggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-1120676488737774232005-07-06T12:01:00.000-07:002005-07-06T12:01:28.736-07:00Sudan pt. 4 (coming)(If not, delete this post)Siggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-1120676461231470392005-07-06T12:00:00.000-07:002005-07-06T12:01:01.236-07:00Sudan pt. 3 (coming)Siggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-1117722030452284492005-06-02T07:19:00.000-07:002005-06-02T07:30:14.096-07:00Khartoum-Nyala (Sudan, pt. 2)Domestic flights in SudanOne day was spent going over my equipment, looking at a few of the local computer problems, having my passport photo taken for the Darfur entry application and just relaxing. It's a bit hard to relax in 40 degrees celsius, though, but we had enough water to drink and cigarettes to smoke, so I found myself walking from the computers in the Siggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-1115798207673506842005-05-11T00:37:00.000-07:002005-06-02T07:21:40.940-07:00London-Khartoum (Sudan, pt. 1)16th of April, 05I arrived in London all right, and thanks to the New and Enhanced Heathrow Airport I've now got several waiting hours in front of me. Four, at least.No, thanks, I already had a cigarette.So here I'm sitting discovering the subtle arrogance of airport architecture: How to calm the mice in the maze.It's a simple trick for simple minds.You place tall Siggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-1113300691864523262005-04-12T03:05:00.000-07:002005-04-12T03:11:31.870-07:00HITCH-HIKER'S GUIDE TO THE GALAXYIn memory of Douglas Adams (1952-2001)If I'd ever write an article for the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy Corp. I'd begin very humbly like this:"The Universe is in fact - although a slightly debated fact due to the people claiming that subjectivity cannot be as objective as, well, objectivity, but they're constantly rebuked by the objectivists pointing out that Siggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-1104311626942158722004-12-29T01:06:00.000-08:002004-12-29T01:13:46.943-08:00Stream of consciousness, x-mas 2004I proclaimeth that I am the Sun.
In a brilliant thunder of a whisper I refer to the issues at hand with the slight nod of a world leader that could mean anything, but all those supposed to know know exactly what my words do tell. Thus I begin the legend of man, and abhorrant creature pacing slowly with a fixed gaze on the toes on his feet and where they are Siggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-1101986009021314772004-12-02T03:12:00.000-08:002004-12-02T03:21:40.590-08:00Albert Fish went away in thirty-sixAlbert Fish was a steady, ol' man
Grey coat and top hat, and wrinkly ol hands
Coming down the street with a mutter on his lips
looking at the children, clenching his fists
The mothers would not let him
The mothers would not let him
The mothers would not let him take them away
but he did it anyway
Albert Fish was a stoop, tall man
He hunched through the States Siggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-1101982041918469752004-12-02T02:06:00.000-08:002004-12-02T02:07:21.916-08:00Pull the wagon, push the loadPull the wagon, push the loadEase the pain, but don't complainReach for mercy, never stopPull the wagon, push the loadSiggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-1100700563716824382004-11-17T06:08:00.000-08:002004-11-22T01:34:02.333-08:00Shooting the moon?I have reasons to believe that the sperm that eventually impregnated my mother and caused me upon the world, the little pre-me, did not win "the competition" by regular means.
It’s not that I don’t swim fast. In fact I’m an excellent swimmer! And I run fast if I have to. I have sharpened reflexes. Why doubt my physical ability then? It’s just that I know myself too well, and Siggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-1098443337437698992004-10-22T04:08:00.000-07:002004-10-22T04:08:57.436-07:00Pulling whiskers in the autumn heatThe one complete, black, brilliant sun surfaces the shining of your eye.
It's perfect sphere are like gauntlets in starlight,
and the neon sticks are rushing back and forth from strings on a tree.
Florence kick the shoes off and jumps to bed.
Another night in, another shoeshineboy's dead twin;
Restless are thy nights, adhere the sleep or do as I said.
Oedipus Siggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-1097253964734404292004-10-08T09:45:00.000-07:002004-10-08T09:46:04.736-07:00Facing the Facts
Sometimes we all have to face facts. Like: we are not in the stoneage anymore, for instance.
But I think I'd enjoyed it. Living in the stoneage, I mean. And don't give me any survival crap or anything, this ain't no romantic disillusion, post-modern romanticism or anything like it. I'm from the North of Norway, for Christ's sakes! I can survive in the mountains. Even without Siggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-1096463485453064132004-09-29T06:10:00.000-07:002004-09-29T06:13:11.583-07:00The arithmetics of tatooed engineers, Tuesday
Squeezed into a lemon was the grey, faded penis of a dead goat
whose last words were these:
I was born to serve and slave,
Little did my work do gain,
When my children were born and raised,
I was slain and served as steak.
You will not hear me complain,
Because I know the wretched way
Of every goatee, grey or pale;
We slave, we breed and die in painSiggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-1089806271767641422004-07-14T04:57:00.000-07:002004-07-14T04:57:51.766-07:00Someone said to me: Get a life!
I thought about it for a second, and realize that he was right.
So I took his.Siggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-1085125295755490702004-05-21T00:17:00.000-07:002004-05-21T01:51:54.606-07:00Think twice about going religious
Some sad office in Heaven found it amusing to turn of the hot water when I was going to have a shower this morning. I found it quite injustifiable and decided to have a complaint filed in the Holiest of Heaven office archives, so I got on the phone.
Operator: Operator.
Me: Information.
[wait]
Op.: Information.
Me: Give me the Holy Lord on the line.
Op.: You Siggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-1079004048757420122004-03-11T03:19:00.000-08:002004-03-11T03:23:58.356-08:00Down to Delivery
I do not suffer from waling in Society's dark streets, writing dark poetry.
I do not succumb to elevated wisdom, of long-bearded men and women with coffe jars.
I do not bow to the darkest corners in the Bible, I do not read the verses out aloud.
I do not kneel for any Kings or Queen, for that I've seen was in my dream.
I do not read others' lips, because they are velvet, and noneSiggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-1078998294214298292004-03-11T01:44:00.000-08:002004-03-11T05:59:20.200-08:00Fishes in the largest rainbows also take a dive
(this is as much as 65% stream-of-conciousness I'd say, in other words; GOLD, and all mistypes are consequences of physical weaknesses and government conspiracies)
- Do you believe in God?
- Fish! I do believe in fish! And I also like them. In the water, as you can see on National Geographic channel and the likes, they steam up and make for vast, Siggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-1070841441128829252003-12-07T15:57:00.000-08:002004-03-11T01:54:07.903-08:00The Messiah on a Tuesday
It was Tuesday, a sunny Tuesday, and Dolores was late for work again. She couldn't stand these days, most people had problems with Mondays, but Dolores really couldn't get herself to appreciate the second day of the week. And this particular Tuesday she'd several meetings and lots of paperwork to kill. How did she always end up coming late for work? She'd like three Siggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6175652.post-1070753301891440212003-12-06T15:28:00.000-08:002004-03-11T01:56:24.356-08:00The Cousin
(Scene: Two men are standing by a river, city on the opposite side of it. A car is 30 metres behind them, and one of them are "playing" with a dog, using a trick-knife.)
- What the fuck are you doing, Don asked.
- What do you mean?
- I mean, look at the dog you're holding there, man! It's in pain.
- So?
- You're fucking sick, man, you know tha'?
(Reynold laughs then let the bleeding Siggehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06888246493075111817noreply@blogger.com