Good time to roll on! I told you I'd be back.

One fun thing about turning 18 is the part were you realize that you don't have to sugarcoat things anymore. When I was supposed to go to this years first Russekro (Russ is an ancient Norwegian custom... don't ask me to elaborate, or I'll foot a put up your ass) I wondered what I was going to tell my parents if they asked if there would be drinking involved. I've been pretty open (or at least I think I've been) to my parents about my party-going, and I think they know I'm not an all-out woop-woop, up in herre(!) kind of guy. But before you're 18 you're thinking: "Who should buy me beer?/What should I tell my folks?" etcetcetc. And it was fun to discover that those days were over. I think I chuckled to myself when it dawned on me.

Damn. Can't focus so I won't write no more.

I've to go to sleep, if I'm going to get up tomorrow to watch Hedwig & The Angy Inch.

And nothing else matters when you turn it up loud!

I couldn't have agreed more Pretty Girls Make Graves...

...I couldn't have agreed more.
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