Monday, March 31, 2008
Sunday, March 30, 2008
I feel just like a child
In India, people told me that I look 16 years old. it used to really piss me off. I feel it's safe to say that it doesn't anymore. Why? Because now, I know it's true.
Also, I'm going to New York tomorrow. This is the primary schedule:
1st-6thish New York
6thish-14th Miami
14th-24th San Fransisco
24th-27th Coachella
27th-16thisch Hanging out with Max & Dylan in Santa Barbara/Las Vegas
17thisch-Don't knowisch Visiting Holly in the O.C and L.A
And then back to New York and then back to London.
This means I soon get to spend some quality time with my partners in crime of summer '06, can't wait. Also, my hair gets very fluffy sometimes. Live with it, I do.
Also, I'm going to New York tomorrow. This is the primary schedule:
1st-6thish New York
6thish-14th Miami
14th-24th San Fransisco
24th-27th Coachella
27th-16thisch Hanging out with Max & Dylan in Santa Barbara/Las Vegas
17thisch-Don't knowisch Visiting Holly in the O.C and L.A
And then back to New York and then back to London.
This means I soon get to spend some quality time with my partners in crime of summer '06, can't wait. Also, my hair gets very fluffy sometimes. Live with it, I do.
Crystal Castles
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
Thursday, March 27, 2008
The imaginary boys.
Generally speaking, going forward
I did the cover shot for the latest issue of Fluro and contributed with some editorial as well. I have to skip several shoots because I'm going to the U.S, which is a bummer. It's all in the name of good fun, though. Anyways, Cruise over to www.fluromag.com if you want to download a PDF of the issue. Or you could just like...buy it. Or something.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Skiing basically sucks. In so many ways.
I really don't get ski-trips. It's almost at the same level as boat-trips, in terms of spending a ridiculous amount of money to live uncomfortably. Think about it, it's basically going on vacation just to get up earlier in the morning than usual. You pay money to get to use the lifts, and they only take you halfway to the good slopes. My friend hiked 5 hours to get to a great slope. In snow. With his equipment. You'd have to be a fucking mix between David Attenborough and Heman to go that far, just to enjoy the very complicated pleasure of "going downhill at moderate speed".
You can divide a ski-day into different segments:
-You wake up(fucking hungover out of your mind), not wanting to move for the whole day.
-You FORCE yourself out of bed, thinking that skiiing sounds about as appealing as a papercut on your testicles.
-Breakfast isn't included in the cabin and your friend had the munchies last night, even the fucking teabags are gone.
-Now it's about 9.00 AM and you're outside. 146 % of the time, your not wearing enough clothes.
-It's snowing and the lift can't open yet. You would think that they considered the factor of "snow" when designing a lift for a ski-resort.
-Around 12.00, you've been skiing for about an hour and you can't wait for lunch+hot chocolate.
-14.00, you're skiing after eating, which is about as clever as eating a big mac and then using a hoola-hoop.
-17.00, the lift closes and you can't wait to get totally pissed and sing along to "Who the fuck is Alice". I think Beethoven wrote that song. Or someone equally cultural.
-Thity minutes later, you know all the words to Hotel California. This is the high-point of your day. Just to let you know, The Eagles suck.
-Around midnight you're passed out. Your friends have written "Trailer trash pussy" on your forehead. In permanent marker. You have also aquired herpes and attempted to assasinate a snow-owl.
Did I miss anything, my dear ski-tards?
You can divide a ski-day into different segments:
-You wake up(fucking hungover out of your mind), not wanting to move for the whole day.
-You FORCE yourself out of bed, thinking that skiiing sounds about as appealing as a papercut on your testicles.
-Breakfast isn't included in the cabin and your friend had the munchies last night, even the fucking teabags are gone.
-Now it's about 9.00 AM and you're outside. 146 % of the time, your not wearing enough clothes.
-It's snowing and the lift can't open yet. You would think that they considered the factor of "snow" when designing a lift for a ski-resort.
-Around 12.00, you've been skiing for about an hour and you can't wait for lunch+hot chocolate.
-14.00, you're skiing after eating, which is about as clever as eating a big mac and then using a hoola-hoop.
-17.00, the lift closes and you can't wait to get totally pissed and sing along to "Who the fuck is Alice". I think Beethoven wrote that song. Or someone equally cultural.
-Thity minutes later, you know all the words to Hotel California. This is the high-point of your day. Just to let you know, The Eagles suck.
-Around midnight you're passed out. Your friends have written "Trailer trash pussy" on your forehead. In permanent marker. You have also aquired herpes and attempted to assasinate a snow-owl.
Did I miss anything, my dear ski-tards?
Monday, March 24, 2008
Jag är ingen jättefan av Magnus Betner, men ibland är han faktiskt jävligt dead-on. Han gav ett bra exempel på hur självgoda folk som jobbar på aftonbladet är, med tanke på att aftonbladet är den minst creddiga nyhets-sidan i hela sverige. Basically, Aftonbladet hade ringt honom och de kör samma taktik varje gång för att få folk att säga fel saker. De hade ringt honom mitt i natten Något i stil med:
MB: "Hallå?"
MB: "Hallå?"
Things that don't look like they look
I can't decide if I like characters that don't look like they look. Take Taz, for instance. Most people are familiar with him, he's an annoying, spitting character by Warner Bros. He is a Tasmanian devil and looks like this:
This is what a Tasmanian devil looks like in reality. It's fucking cuter than Claire Danes. Meaning cute.
This is what a Tasmanian devil looks like in reality. It's fucking cuter than Claire Danes. Meaning cute.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Heather Mills has got a shitload of cash.
A koala bear does three things. It eats eucalyptys, has sex and sleeps. Taking the step from a koala bear to Heather Mills really isn't that hard, the only difference being that Mills get's her dose of eucalyptus from a chewing-gum. Heather Mills met Paul McCartney a while back and instantly fell in love. With the ratio between how much money he has and how big of a sucker he is. Even Anna Nicole Smith would have let him be, simply out of pity. Heather Mills didn't. They met a couple of years back and 15 minutes later, they were married. 30 minutes after that, Paul realised that he had made a huge mistake. No only did he marry a girl who looks like she fell off a cliff, he broke her fall with a huge pile of money. Here is how I imagine their first conversation. Please keep in mind that Paul was probably pretty horny at this point in time.
"Hi! I'm Heather, I'd tell you my last name but I can't pronounce double L's"
"Right...I'm Paul McCartney. Nice to meet you."
"Oh my god! You were in that band, the Beetroots!"
"Actually, it was the Beatles(I'd probably learn more by talking to a beetroot)"
"Of course, sorry! I don't know much, I only listen to the Spice Girls."
"Why wouldn't you, they're also sluts."
"I'm sorry?"
"I said: Why wouldn't you, they've got the country going nuts"
"Oh! Yeah, and also they're sluts. I like that."
"Okay..."
"...so...wanna do something crazy?"
"Sure, like what?"
"Give me ALOT of money, KIDDING!"
I'm not sure Paul got the joke. But in the end, all is well. Why? Because Heather Mills does charity work. She got 25 million pounds, I bet that money will touch the wizard of Oz' balls before it touches anything regarding charity.
"Hi! I'm Heather, I'd tell you my last name but I can't pronounce double L's"
"Right...I'm Paul McCartney. Nice to meet you."
"Oh my god! You were in that band, the Beetroots!"
"Actually, it was the Beatles(I'd probably learn more by talking to a beetroot)"
"Of course, sorry! I don't know much, I only listen to the Spice Girls."
"Why wouldn't you, they're also sluts."
"I'm sorry?"
"I said: Why wouldn't you, they've got the country going nuts"
"Oh! Yeah, and also they're sluts. I like that."
"Okay..."
"...so...wanna do something crazy?"
"Sure, like what?"
"Give me ALOT of money, KIDDING!"
I'm not sure Paul got the joke. But in the end, all is well. Why? Because Heather Mills does charity work. She got 25 million pounds, I bet that money will touch the wizard of Oz' balls before it touches anything regarding charity.
BURAKA!!!!!!!!
Buraka som Sistema was fucking amazing. This has been a great concert week, pics from everything is coming up within a couple of days.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Girls on film
I'm not trying to sound sexist, but I feel there are only a handfull of female photographers that ever got to the absolute top. It's definitely not because women are worse photographers than men. People just tend to stare at their breasts, not their pictures. My point is, Annie Leibovitz rules. However, if you want to see her good pictures, buy her books. The A&C pictures are crap, in comparison.
Also, the Solve Sundsbo exhibition was so-so. I don't really like exhibitions that don't have a clear theme. It's not that hard taking 454232 0000 pictures, pick the 10 most aesthetically pleasing ones and then name the exhibition "Light & Magic". That being said, there was an amazing vampire/tomboy portrait of Jessica Stam. It looked kind of like this(This one is not of Stam):
Also, the Solve Sundsbo exhibition was so-so. I don't really like exhibitions that don't have a clear theme. It's not that hard taking 454232 0000 pictures, pick the 10 most aesthetically pleasing ones and then name the exhibition "Light & Magic". That being said, there was an amazing vampire/tomboy portrait of Jessica Stam. It looked kind of like this(This one is not of Stam):
Monday, March 17, 2008
Weezy
Last night, me Ghazal and Linus went to see Lil Wayne. It was, without a doubt, the weirdest concert I've ever been to. It was awesome, but very very bizarre. First, as a warmup, they played the best hiphop medley I've ever heard(ERIK, MOP - Ante up!). Then these fucking idiot rappers came on and people started booing, since the people who arranged the concert only let their friends rap before Weezy. One of the guys from this band got pissed and decided to piss weezy off later, which led to a bunch of fights on stage and eventually, Wayne walked off stage. In short, it was fucking crazy and one of the coolest concerts I've ever attended. Pictures to come shortly!
Also, I can't stand that slut who married Paul McCartney and now gets 25 million pounds for it. Tomorrow, I'm going to write about how she is going to burn in hell. For being a whore.
p.s He opened with Make it Rain, that was insane.
Also, I can't stand that slut who married Paul McCartney and now gets 25 million pounds for it. Tomorrow, I'm going to write about how she is going to burn in hell. For being a whore.
p.s He opened with Make it Rain, that was insane.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Thursday, March 13, 2008
back in the day
I just found some ooold photos that I took a couple of years back. I might venture to say it was my first ever portrait of someone. I think I tried to tell a story of a black girl being "domesticated". All I remember is that I wasn't very impressed with myself, I rarely am. A poor quality, don't fall into it.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Barrack Obama and the Mahogny table
I just thought of a funny joke.
"What are you called if you hate race-cars?"
"A racist."
Sorry about the whole joke-thing. My bad. Anyways, I feel the need to express my hatred towards racecars. Cars in general, really. Even though "racecar" is my favorite palindrome, the act of competing with racecars and calling it a sport, is ridiculous. How can you call it a sport, since all cars don't even go at the same speed? That's like telling Kofi Annan to out-snort Kate Moss. Kate being the Ferrari of cocaine-users.
What else is new...? Lately, I've been feeling a bit worried about politics. Not about what's actually going on in politics, rather the fact that I don't care about them. I try, I really do but I guess I'm simply the type of person who prefers to watch Star Trek, rather than "What is new in the world today? Nothing, we've pretty much had the same problems since Jesus died." There's just so much out there to worry about:
-Barrack Obama vs. Hilary Clinton? Scones vs. bagels for breakfast?
-Peace in the middle-east? Then what would they have to bitch about, it's not like they can complain about the weather.
-Did the mayor of god-knows-what-city go to a strip club? What was the person who saw him there doing, window shopping in the whore-district? Hipocrite.
-Should nation X go to war with nation Y over n'importe de quoi? Yes, always yes.
-Is global warming a threat? Underwater cities would take us one step further towards a Star Wars type of world. Bring it on.
-What do we do about AIDS? Distribute pictures of people wearing bike-helmets, huge turn-off.
It's all too big of a big fucking mess and I guess I'm not a very good person. Still, I feel like the difference between an adult and a child, is that adults should be familiar with the concept of "Cause and effect". It's really not that complicated, if you don't want to die from gunshot wounds, stop fucking shooting at each other.
"Honey, I can't find the donation cheque for Amnesty's save the rainforest project!"
"It's on the mahogny table in the hall!"
Yessir.
"What are you called if you hate race-cars?"
"A racist."
Sorry about the whole joke-thing. My bad. Anyways, I feel the need to express my hatred towards racecars. Cars in general, really. Even though "racecar" is my favorite palindrome, the act of competing with racecars and calling it a sport, is ridiculous. How can you call it a sport, since all cars don't even go at the same speed? That's like telling Kofi Annan to out-snort Kate Moss. Kate being the Ferrari of cocaine-users.
What else is new...? Lately, I've been feeling a bit worried about politics. Not about what's actually going on in politics, rather the fact that I don't care about them. I try, I really do but I guess I'm simply the type of person who prefers to watch Star Trek, rather than "What is new in the world today? Nothing, we've pretty much had the same problems since Jesus died." There's just so much out there to worry about:
-Barrack Obama vs. Hilary Clinton? Scones vs. bagels for breakfast?
-Peace in the middle-east? Then what would they have to bitch about, it's not like they can complain about the weather.
-Did the mayor of god-knows-what-city go to a strip club? What was the person who saw him there doing, window shopping in the whore-district? Hipocrite.
-Should nation X go to war with nation Y over n'importe de quoi? Yes, always yes.
-Is global warming a threat? Underwater cities would take us one step further towards a Star Wars type of world. Bring it on.
-What do we do about AIDS? Distribute pictures of people wearing bike-helmets, huge turn-off.
It's all too big of a big fucking mess and I guess I'm not a very good person. Still, I feel like the difference between an adult and a child, is that adults should be familiar with the concept of "Cause and effect". It's really not that complicated, if you don't want to die from gunshot wounds, stop fucking shooting at each other.
"Honey, I can't find the donation cheque for Amnesty's save the rainforest project!"
"It's on the mahogny table in the hall!"
Yessir.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Steven Klein gets rude
I just felt like showing you some stuff by one of my favorite photographers, Steven Klein. My cousin first told me about him a couple of years back, he's a badass. Also, if you're in London, check out Solve Sundsbo's exhibition.
http://www.springprojects.co.uk/flash.html
Also, if you're in London tonight, come to Get Rude. Easily the most non-pretentious amount of fun in the East End. Or you can dress up like a circus clown and go to something like boombox. Your choice, weirdo.
http://www.springprojects.co
Also, if you're in London tonight, come to Get Rude. Easily the most non-pretentious amount of fun in the East End. Or you can dress up like a circus clown and go to something like boombox. Your choice, weirdo.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Walt Disney and the great whale of Norway.
I would consider myself to be a somewhat smart individual. That being said, I watched a documentary about Stephen Hawking yesterday and I now feel like I'd pay Tara Reid to take the SAT's for me. I often confuse Tara Reid with other sluts her age. Anyways, I mean the one who has breasts that look like they're terrified of each other. In my current state of casual ignorance, I've started to question things. And I mean things that are more relevant than the fucking eternal question that guys ask people at parties to be smart/naughty/funny:
"Why is a blow-job called a blow-job? Anyone who's been in the vicinity of one would disagree".
How should I know? Why is a female distributor of mail still called the postman? Leave me alone.
SO, to my far more relevant questions. The astounding world of renowned pseudo-Nazi Walt Disney is sometimes a bit confusing to me. Don't get me wrong, I love Disney movies(personal favorites being Robin Hood, The lion king and Finding Nemo) but when you watch them nowadays, some things seem strange to me:
-Is there a reason why the main characters of Donald's town are the only ones who are animals? Everyone else is human, yet they don't seem to mind the fact that the richest guy in their town is... a duck.
-Why does Donald wear a towel when he comes out of the shower, since he doesn't even normally wear pants at all?
-Isn't it kind of mean to tell people that someone as hot as Belle, would ever hook up with the Beast? To me, that's just giving false hope to people from England.
-Why do they use Roman numerals in the Greek myth of Hercules?
-How does Goofy(who is a dog) know how to talk, considering the fact that Pluto(who is also a dog) is about as articulate as Helen Keller?
In other news, why is K-Fed such a douche? Not only did he put the word "white-trash-crack den-looking" on the map, it's like the Universe of complete a-holes imploded and created a black hole of un-coolness that can only be described as the Armageddon of all cleanliness. I've actually met someone who sympathizes with him and told me: "Like you could ever get Britney Spears." If I wanted to land a whale, I'd move to Norway.
"Why is a blow-job called a blow-job? Anyone who's been in the vicinity of one would disagree".
How should I know? Why is a female distributor of mail still called the postman? Leave me alone.
SO, to my far more relevant questions. The astounding world of renowned pseudo-Nazi Walt Disney is sometimes a bit confusing to me. Don't get me wrong, I love Disney movies(personal favorites being Robin Hood, The lion king and Finding Nemo) but when you watch them nowadays, some things seem strange to me:
-Is there a reason why the main characters of Donald's town are the only ones who are animals? Everyone else is human, yet they don't seem to mind the fact that the richest guy in their town is... a duck.
-Why does Donald wear a towel when he comes out of the shower, since he doesn't even normally wear pants at all?
-Isn't it kind of mean to tell people that someone as hot as Belle, would ever hook up with the Beast? To me, that's just giving false hope to people from England.
-Why do they use Roman numerals in the Greek myth of Hercules?
-How does Goofy(who is a dog) know how to talk, considering the fact that Pluto(who is also a dog) is about as articulate as Helen Keller?
In other news, why is K-Fed such a douche? Not only did he put the word "white-trash-crack den-looking" on the map, it's like the Universe of complete a-holes imploded and created a black hole of un-coolness that can only be described as the Armageddon of all cleanliness. I've actually met someone who sympathizes with him and told me: "Like you could ever get Britney Spears." If I wanted to land a whale, I'd move to Norway.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
DVNO-T
The new Justice video s-u-c-k-s. So does the song.
Justice - DVNO
This is what a good video looks like.
The Knife - Heartbeats
AHA - Take on me
Beastie Boys - Intergalactic
Daft Punk - Around the world
Run DMC - It's like that
Fatboy slim - Praise you
Oasis - The masterplan
The Knife - Silent shout
Kavinsky - Testarossa autodrive
Slipknot - Vermilion
And, of course, the crown-jewel
Wham! - Wake me up before you gogo
Justice - DVNO
This is what a good video looks like.
The Knife - Heartbeats
AHA - Take on me
Beastie Boys - Intergalactic
Daft Punk - Around the world
Run DMC - It's like that
Fatboy slim - Praise you
Oasis - The masterplan
The Knife - Silent shout
Kavinsky - Testarossa autodrive
Slipknot - Vermilion
And, of course, the crown-jewel
Wham! - Wake me up before you gogo
Sunday, March 2, 2008
It's not that Easy....Jet.
Due to a number of factors, I missed my flight from Berlin to London. However, this time, something was different. There was a factor that is constantly involved when I fuck up, that simply was not there this time. A factor that is the source of about 104 % of everything bad that ever happens to me. That factor, is me.
You see, the train that is only supposed to take 40 minutes, took about twice as long. And when we got there(a half-hour before the plane was set to leave), a somewhat heavy set woman tells the 20 people who were on that train, that checkin is closed. There is nothing she can do. To me, there is one major flaw in her statement. There was something she could do, she just couldn't be bothered. She could have called the staff on the airplane(who were probably wondering why 20 passengers just decided not to show up) and told them: "Don't go yet". I really wanted to ask the heavy set lady where she had been hiding since 1945. I hear Argentina is nice. At that point, I was pretty sure of the fact that Germans hate us. That is not the case. They just hate me.
I do realize that I'm kind of a douche. They did too. Linus and I bought our tickets at the same time, he got priority boarding, I didn't. Then they stop me in security and tell me that the carry-on-luggage that worked perfectly fine London entre Berlin, is now too big. So I told them: "Look, you've already made me miss one flight. I'm not missing another one and I'm not paying you to fuck me in the ear. Let me through. Please." This sentence worked to the extent of them getting even more persistent. I tried squeezing my bag into the little metal-frame, no luck. It was about an inch too big. After having squabbled with them for 10 minutes, I took matters into my own hands. I decided to wear my clothes. Correction, I decided to wear ALL of my clothes. This included: 2 cardigans, 2 lumberjack shirts, 1 hoodie, 8 t-shirts and 1 jacket. The security staff at Schönefeld airport now know me as, "Ajax, superhero!". Personally, I think I looked like a meatball that, somehow, got itself stuck on a stick. After having gone through security, I quickly removed all of these garments and re-packed. Go me.
In other news, because of the airplane scandal(and other things, discount at supreme/stussy etc etc), I'm officially dead-broke until the 14th. For normal people, being broke suuuucks. I can't really say it does for me. You see, I'm an excellent sleeper. Since the term "excellent" is so commonly used, most people would associate it with "good" or even "great". When I say I'm an excellent sleeper, I mean to say that I'm fucking spectacular. What can I say, it's cheap fun.
You see, the train that is only supposed to take 40 minutes, took about twice as long. And when we got there(a half-hour before the plane was set to leave), a somewhat heavy set woman tells the 20 people who were on that train, that checkin is closed. There is nothing she can do. To me, there is one major flaw in her statement. There was something she could do, she just couldn't be bothered. She could have called the staff on the airplane(who were probably wondering why 20 passengers just decided not to show up) and told them: "Don't go yet". I really wanted to ask the heavy set lady where she had been hiding since 1945. I hear Argentina is nice. At that point, I was pretty sure of the fact that Germans hate us. That is not the case. They just hate me.
I do realize that I'm kind of a douche. They did too. Linus and I bought our tickets at the same time, he got priority boarding, I didn't. Then they stop me in security and tell me that the carry-on-luggage that worked perfectly fine London entre Berlin, is now too big. So I told them: "Look, you've already made me miss one flight. I'm not missing another one and I'm not paying you to fuck me in the ear. Let me through. Please." This sentence worked to the extent of them getting even more persistent. I tried squeezing my bag into the little metal-frame, no luck. It was about an inch too big. After having squabbled with them for 10 minutes, I took matters into my own hands. I decided to wear my clothes. Correction, I decided to wear ALL of my clothes. This included: 2 cardigans, 2 lumberjack shirts, 1 hoodie, 8 t-shirts and 1 jacket. The security staff at Schönefeld airport now know me as, "Ajax, superhero!". Personally, I think I looked like a meatball that, somehow, got itself stuck on a stick. After having gone through security, I quickly removed all of these garments and re-packed. Go me.
In other news, because of the airplane scandal(and other things, discount at supreme/stussy etc etc), I'm officially dead-broke until the 14th. For normal people, being broke suuuucks. I can't really say it does for me. You see, I'm an excellent sleeper. Since the term "excellent" is so commonly used, most people would associate it with "good" or even "great". When I say I'm an excellent sleeper, I mean to say that I'm fucking spectacular. What can I say, it's cheap fun.
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