My own self

Fucking Elves.


They've made a caricature. Of me as an elf, as if my degredation wasn't complete enough by their giving me RED hair. RED!


LOGI is the guy who is all fire and lunchables! Me, I'm not too big with the dramatics, I can style my hair without going all elemental. True, I'm described as "fair", but first of all, Snorre never really knew what the My Daughter he was talking about - being a Christian and all - and second of all "fair" can actually mean "blonde", too, it doesn't necessarily put me down as a redhead once and for all.


But the main travesty here, of course, is the elf-bit. Yes, I'm leaner and slightly less brutish than these other chaps strutting around in my neighbourhood with their "Omniscienter than thou" (puh-lease. Like I can't go throw away one of my eyes if I ever need to see it all. Which I don't, by the way. Anyone who has seen Freyr skinny-dipping in the early spring... suffice to say, at that point, I'd tear both my eyes out for far less than omniscience. Hel, I'd settle for an omnious scientist in those circumstances) and "Look at me, I've got a big hammer without a proper shaft" (I would point out that I got him that hammer, but it'd seem so damned petty, so I won't) - attitudes, but that's not saying a heck of a lot, as these chaps could go to the finals with the Yeti and the Bigfoot and the Titanic Toe and whomever in the Hairiest Freaks Alive-contest. That doesn't make me a bloody elf. And it sure as helf doesn't make me a bloody elf with my hair on fire.


However, I do consider growing a goatee.





As if this horrible shock wasn't enough, my dignity has been further stamped upon, as the sodding Trolls have joined in. Apparently, I'm rather big in their pantheon, and they found it insulting to see me portrayed as an elf. (On that at least, we could agree. Fucking Elves.) Therefore, they've went ahead and made their own little picture of me, adding injury to insult. I mean, honestly, while my skin may not be quite as extravagant as that fairy (no offense to the Tuatha Dé Danann intended) Snorre claimed, I do not look like my face has been carved out of a sodding tree. My eyes do not glow (except when people dingle money in front of me, but that's hardly a situation for fair assessment), and while indeed strong and awesome, my teeth aren't that sharp. Years of apple-eating gets to you, you know, dulls 'em down.

Seriously. One could get iconoclastic for far less than this.



The only thing that could be worse than this would be... I don't know, maybe if the Humans came trotting along. Yeah, yeah, that'd probably be horrible. They'd probably be making me into some silly super-villain dressing in green pyjamases and wearing some strange horns only found on some especially silly Texas-bred cattle or something. Without a goatee.

Luckily, even Humans can't possibly be that blasphemic.

Peeps I know - or think I know, or pretend to think I know, or really just vaguely have some form of relation to - seem to be having weblogs, too. While I do link quite a lot of these on the Links-page, I suspect you people reading this (who may or may not be the exact same demographic that will now be listed, but in the immortal word(s?) of Richard Fish, by-gones) never really bother with checking the Links-page, or any of the other fancy pages this weblog has to offer you.

ANY. WAY. (Put them together and what have you got? Bibbedi-bobbedi? Bibbedi-bobbedi? Bibbedi-bobbedi-bo? (No, that wasn't really intended to be making large with the sense (nor that with the grammar)))

IN ORDER OF TOTAL RANDOMIZATION, I GIVE YOU, THE LINKS!

LOTHAIR.
Ole. Edvard. The Hairy Man From Nordilandet. Way too mature for his own good, despite being, like, a gazillion years yonger than me, sometimes so much so that he's no fun, he'll just burst every single baloon of good, childish fun I go to great lengths to inflate.

But he's a good little chap, and funny, when he sets his considerable mind to it. I came to know the guy through a now-extinct message board, and I haven't let him shrug me off ever since, try as though he might have might.

OUR CANADIAN READER.
My main excuse for keeping this weblog in English. (The real reason is that I figure I have a larger potential base of readers this way. Of course, this is a poor delusion, in truth it only gives me a larger potential base of people choosing not to read my weblog) Lucky, or Sarah, or Jade, (why the heck would anyone named "Jade" ever make a webnick, by the way?! Me, I'd be all over with the flaunting) is a nice girl from the previously mentioned message board, though it wasn't until I realized she was a fellow Whedonite I started pestering her on MSN as well as on the board. She's a graphic designer, wohoo, and she has even promised me a cool Welsey-avatar! That, in my not-all-that-humble-really opinion, makes her The Bestest.

CYANIDA.
That's what used to be Carolinen's awesome nick on the now quite-a-lot-mentioned message board, which by the way suffered from having a lot of quality members mixed in with, well, horrid content. While Caroline and I may not have all that much in common, she's a treat to chat with, and maybe the sweetest person I've ever communicated with. Whenever I feel down, I just chat with her, and voilà, all better. For that alone, I should be linking her LJ every day.

OBDORMIO.
This rascal is way too alike me for my own good. There are differences, though. For one thing, the guy is so lazy he makes me look like Sir Worksalot. Also, he has this unexplicable thing for horrid islandic formations, and he comments on my weblog way too rarely considering how witty he can be when he puts his mind to it. He was, by the way, the main driving force behind me getting this weblog to begin with. Of course, then he proceeded to shift his own weblog, so that we no longer both had opera-blogs, ruining the entire point, but that's just the kind of a guy he is. Luckily, I had pro-actively gotten back at him by making a coup d'forum on him a year earlier.

SHEEP.
From yet the same message board. I think we've grown a little apart, personality-wise, but he's still a good ol' cyber-friend with way too high an opinion of himself, which I totally respect. His weblog, though, is a bit skinny, and I think he started it only to annoy me with its lack of activity. Oh, well.

LOKI.
Loki's just this guy, you know... In all seriousness, though, this chap is great. He's witty, he's smart, he's interesting, he's stark ravingly mad, and to top it all off he's nice, too. He is one of the most modest and down-to-earth people I've ever met, as well. Sometimes, I wish I could be more like him.

MOMS.
Olaf is a very pleasant cyberconversational-partner, who is my alibi for knowing someone adult. While I'm sure he'd protest about being very mature and adult, in my world, he is. He has is own business, for crying out loud, and, from what I gather, he is doing rather well, too! :D Yay for Olaf, people. Also, he has excellent taste in television. Fraggle Rock, Angel and Veronica Mars for the win, folks! And for the record: Anyone with the guts to actually apply for changing (well,okay, adding) their name to something as cool as "Moriarty" deserves all the praise they can get.

The Darth Admin.
Frode is the administrator on a Norwegian Star Wars-board I'm a somtime member of. He's a nice young guy, very into philosophy (these days, up 'til sometime last fall it was politics, I suspect it'll be nuclear physics by 2008) and Mozart, which is cool.

ALATÁRIEL.
A Dane! (OH THE HORROR, yes I know, deal with it, people, it has been like two hundred years, get over it, will ya?) And what inspired me to making this list when she personal-messaged med her weblogadress on a Norwegian Tolkien-message board we're both members of. (Though I've been inactive for a year) She's a really cool lady who loves "Scrubs" (who the Janitor doesn't?!) and as Obdormio can testify to, write really long and interesting PMs. (He used to ask me for quotes :D)