mischeif & manic marbles of the mayhem-esque me’s

in an attemt to pimp my patti collage (inspired by jen’s new pimping skills) i hit it up in paint only to comclude that i suck. oh well. havent slept since satan is lying next to me in bed snoring like marla singers death rattle in fight club. in an attempt to refrain from going insane and smothering sandy with a dirty tee i snuck down with yvan who after cuddling me safely to sleep began to piggy snore me in my ear. 2 nights ago i lost my earplugs, last night i lost my will to live. time to get new earplugs. anyone know of some fucking industrual strenth ones? on the box it should say something like “drowns out the noise of al-qaida attacks, rape-alarms and the nannys voice” if i dont get to sleep anytime soon there’s the risk that ill go on a fucking rampage one night in camden and shoot every ready ripped jeans wearing sad bastard i come across.

i have such a thing for crowded noticeboards. this is chrissie’s.

last night we went down to our local where an old romance of mine was holding a quiz night (looking as gorgeous as i remembered). i re encountered more old flings and got myself a date for laters. anyhoo. after that the girls continued to common camden hang-outs and me and yvan went home and watched action. blah blah blah. 

tonight me and sandy have been down the dublin castle getting sleezed on by actors but that aside had a lovely time after a long day in the city (and an entirely new wardrobe). that girl makes me warm inside.

this is the apartment that photobooth forgot so the obsession continues. here are some gold shavings from the last few days.

if anyone wants a date with the skankiest heroin-non-chic, bruised, shattered legs ever send them a text at 07963791368

if i dont get a single comment on this post telling my fugly ass to get off photobooth and start doing something productive with my time instead my thought that something is wrong in the world will be confirmed.

thats gum

bad hair day?

skriet!

ok so im incredibly un - pc!

sandy is north side im ehm satan

gangsta biatch!

ok so im fatty! so what?

love

bye!

found myself and hampus on dirtydirtydancing.com, personally i dont understand the concept of posting 3 pictures (or more) that look basically the same. but ofcourse we look shit hot on the dancefloor.

one of the reasons why i keep a close eye on kenneth’s blog is because i know stuff like this will show up.

last night i called 999 because chavs were fighting dogs to death down our yard. glam all the way baby.

i dont know quite how to begin this post since its regarding something that upsets me so much i just ran out in the corridor forcing my fist into the concrete wall at loss of better anger management.
my sandy was raised by her grandmother cause her own mother simply wasn’t up for the task, being busy doing drugs, stripping and importing polish whores to her brothel… the first thing she utteres when sandy was born was “take her away so i can go smoke a fag” and the tone of that sentence has coloured sandys intire upbringning. finding her mothers drugs in her pockets as a child, not knowing who her father was until she was 14 since her mother had no idea who of the countless guys she’d slept around with was the one who had impregnated her with the jiz that turned out to be a beautiful caring, loveable girl (i was going to say daughter but i guess that word is determined by the presence of a mother). despite of being drop kicked in the face by life sandy has managed to turn out wonderful even though she’s had to take care of herself since she was 16 and still craves the love and attention of her mother who has called her twice the last 2 years.

the reason why this is something that accoupies my mind at this moment is the fact the sandys parents is right now making her miserable. words you might think are synonyms with  parents (responsible, caring, protective etc.) unfortunatley doesnt seem to apply to the mother and father of my girl. her mother who is about to get locked up (third time is the charm) for the next 6 months for pimping whores seems to think that sandy should sacrifice her life for her mothers incredible stupidity. the reason being a dog named gucci (who her mother got after finding out that she was about to be sent to prison) who needs a babysitter.

she didnt call her and say “please come and spend some time with me before i get locked up for my own fucking idiocy” she called and stated that sandy should move away from london (where her best friends are looking after her / loving her / supporting and nursing her damaged self asteem as friends and family should do) to denmark where she knows 0 people, sit in a house for 6 months and babysit a fucking mut.

she has expressed feelings that sandy is selfish and unwilling to sacrifice anything for “the family”, this from a mother who has been absent for the most part of sandys childhood or when present high as a kite and constantly involved in criminal activities / stripping / drugs etc etc. the sheer unhappiness that these people are forcing upon their daughter is enough to make me physically ill ( i never understood how people could throw up from mental discomfort but i do now). one of these days im going to rip the phone from sandys ear and ask these people what the hell they think they are doing?

the fact that sandy despite all this has turned out the person she is today points to an incredible persona and i have offered to be her sister aswell as friend since ive come to adore the petite slightly kokoo gorgeous chick who i love despite of her immense snoring and tendency to talk during 24.

i ripped my current wallpaper from erik 

sunday after having spent the day on shoreditch sidewalks with lisa we got ready for the ponystep party at hoxton sq.
after showing off her bendy features and little tush sandy went back to camden to romance with her newly found irish. me and lisa stayed behind (and yvan came straight there from island) dancing, snogging, cocktailing and wildy gesturing looser points. hampus was there who i havent seen for about 7 years or so. still such a darling. cant wait to spend more time with hime (and his gorgeous flatmate helena), we were stalked the entire night by various men (straigh / gay / who knows) and photographed for this or that (see polaroid fx). we had such a great time even though the sheer  faaaaaaaaashion darling aspect can certainly get a bit too much. (where is a bearded, whatever-was-lyin’-on-the-floor-wearing, hc listening man when you need him?) after a loong night me and lisa ballerina-jumped (our new thing) through london without shoes (the staring was immense) until we reached the allnight bus which we had some serious troubles getting on. finally on it i stretched out in the back on lisas lap snoozing my way to camden. where we went to last-chance-for-romance (me kicking and screaming but going along for lisas sake) - maraton and ended up finding it (sorry to say) a source of cuteness allround.

now sandy and lisa are ringing me saying that they are with some guy who apparantly has been in my flat in manchester and knows who i am etc etc. i have no idea who they are talking about. trying to get me to the mixer. shall i shant i?

saturday night me and lisa made the mistake of thinking we’d go for a few cocktails. but as we knew already and got confirmed - its only tourists and wankers who go out on a saturday night. ofcourse our best time was the pre-barhopping-party. lisa made me laugh so much by saying a. “i seem to feel a bit tired” and then passing out drunk in her clothes aprox. 1 and a half second later snoring and b. by talking (complete nonsense) in her sleep. BLESS!

here’s my daily blog routine:
1. jen
2. emil
3. cali
4. nick
5. hipster runoff 
(where i then continue to laugh my little ass off at genious things like this:)

Where was this picture taken?
a) at a show by Xavier and the Justices
b) at a DJ set by Gaspard and the Jousteeces
c) at an altBro convention
d) a Christian rock concert
e) a LIFEHOUSE concert (hangin by a moment there with u)
f) a summit on teen issues about faith
g) at a professional wrestling event
h) a pro-Australian rally for Electro War Troops
i) a ‘music festival thingy’
j) a Christian Arts and Crafts Expo where u make crosses out of miscellaneous materials.
k) a rally against the Chinese ‘lil cunt’ gymnasts
l) a rally against Iran
m) a rally against Obammy/McCain/Hillsy Clinton/Ralph Nader/theJonasBrothers
n) Choose.Your.Own.Response
0) Choose.Your.Own.Response

if you do one thin today it should be looing at this website.
(and yes ofcourse there are several other blogs i read and im sure your’s is one of them)

so im probabrly hardly the only one who thinks philip is hot.
(who knows a good HC place in LDN, seriously!)

sailormoon ripped us!

patrick tsai and madiju 

Rules
1. Put your music player on shuffle.
2. Press forward for each question.
3. Use the song title as the answer to the question even if it doesn’t make sense. NO CHEATING!

The Questions:
1. How are you feeling today? non ce n’est pas une reve - the vogue years - francoise hardy (eh translation anyone?)
2. Will you get far in life? up a cripple creak - before the flood - bob dylan & the band
3. How do your friends see you? c’était ici - c’était ici - yann tiersen
4. Will you get married? we’re looking for alot of love - made in the dark - hot chip (i swear i didn’t cheat)
5. What is your life’s theme song? aphid manure heist - stereopathetic soulmanure - beck (ehm)
6. What is the story of your life? mozart’s kegelstatt (performed by nick drake) - family tree - nick drake
7. What was high school like? junk - anthology 3 disc 1 - the beatles (haha WORD!)
8. How can you get ahead in life? rock&roll - 1969 the velvet underground live vol 1 - the velvet underground (i swear im still not cheating)
9. What is tomorrow going to be like? baby please don’t go - folksinger’s choice - bob dylan (i’ll let you know the premonitional skillset of that one)
10. What is the best thing about your friends? tick eats olives - my oh my… - davendra banhart
11. What is in store for the next weekend? sympathetic noose - howl - black rebel motorcycle club
12. What song best describes you? if i were - lookaftering - vashti bunyan (my shrink would love that)
13. How is your life going? storytelling - storytelling - belle&sebastian (”you need consistency”)
14. What song will play at your funeral? devils haircut - odelay - beck (dance on my grave)
15. How does the world see you? hints - veneer - jose gonzáles
16. Will you have a happy life? nick drake interview - the complete home recordings - nick drake (surely an omen)
17. What do your friends really think of you? don’t think twice it’s alright - bootleg series volume 6 live 1964 - bob dylan (uncanny that one of my best friends just got that title tattoo’d on her arm?)
18. What song describes the person you’re attracted to? feeling good - the very best of nina simone - nina simone
19. What message would you like to tell the next generation? carousel - the sheperd’s dog - iron&wine
20. Do you have a deep dark secret? i bet you look good on the dancefloor - whatever people say i am, that’s what im not - arctic monkeys
21. Do people secretly lust after you? velvet nursery rhyme - live MCMXMCIII (cd2) - the velvet underground
22. How can I make myself happy? naked if i want to - the covers record - cat power (should i become a nudist?)
23. Will I ever have children? trust - wish - the cure
24. What’s some good advice for me? hotwax - odelay - beck
25. How will I be remembered? there was sun - rejoicing in the hands - davendra banhart (i like that)
26. What is my signature dance song? sous le soleil exactement - serge gainsbourg (best of) - serge gainsbourg

my babies

my baby (and probabrly my fav picture i’ve taken so far in london)

hallway preparty

my babies at proud

sandy and the irish

last night there were popcorn, celebs, non-kareoke, bathroom sessions, phonecalls, twins, curly hair, guestlists, morons, keythrowdowns, the pleasure of sleeping alone, etc.

sanna - “this flat IS the den of slack”
(after not having left the flat for an entire day)

sanna - “its 5 o clock and you’re still only wearing knickers.
so fucking dude!”
(all that’s missing is a dirty robe and a white russian)

sanna - “why hasnt anyone commented yet on our porn pictures?”
lisa - “they’re busy wanking!”
(there are plenty of comments now)

taxi guy - “taxi?”
sandy - “we dont believe in taxis!”

sanna - “i want a falafel!”
sandy - “we dont believe in food!”

sanna - “sandy why are’nt you wearing any shoes?”
sandy - “i dont belive in shoes!”

(walking though the pooring rain)
sanna - “sandy arent you cold?”
sandy - “(without a jacket) . i dont belive in rain!”
(sandy is what you might call a social atheist)

sanna - “what’s the number to top up? 999?”
(a momentary brain freeze)

lisa - “the twins look so alike”

lisa - “that wolf turns me on!”
(lisa has a thing for the evil wolf in narnia)

lisa - “no fawns were hurt during the dramatisation of this film”

sanna - “im gonna start jogging tomorrow”
(i’ve said that every night for the last 2 weeks)

sanna - “this is the last chocolate i eat. forever.”
(its all yvan’s fault. damn swiss people)

up for a delightful round of dictator memory,

anyone?

“We are trying to put together an agreement that protects our people, that respects Iraqi sovereignty, that allows us to lay the kind of foundation that we need for making certain that we complete the work we’ve all sacrificed so greatly to see accomplished,” condoleezza rice.
(excuse me while i throw up a little bit in my mouth)

today me and sandy start our new social experiment/project. ‘capitalism stole my ingenuity’.
here are the rules:

1. you are not allowed to purchase anything with a few exceptions to proove the rule, such as:

tobacco for sandy (people who smoke but never buy fags should be shot on sight. only no major brand rolling tobacco)
a top up kept to the minimum on our oyster cards (for emergency tube trips when its too far/too late to walk)
a top up kept to the minimum on our phones (for emergency calls if we are in trouble)

2. you are not allowed to spend any money except on the articles above and:
rent (which is fairly mimimum since we live 5 at times in our studio flat)
bills

3. you are allowed a 50 pence per day allowance which you may accumelate or spend daily.

3. other than that you can cheat, steal and fuck over the system/society as much as your concience allows.

let the games begin. (i will be updating on our progress living the non-american dream)

(killing the light)

myspaz

sandy is sleeping with a homeless guy on our pull out whilst i am having a refused (brilliant swedish hardcore band) revival exploding through my wesc headphones.

so what do you do when you’re too tired to go out and face reality (except blog yr little ass off)?
why stay at home and make homemade photobooth pseudo porn with yr flatmate ofcourse.

“sandy - do you have any stay-up’s?”
“sanna - how the fuck is it possible that you don’t have any stay-up’s? you’re mum is a stripper!”

its my party and i’ll cry if i want to its my blog and i’ll ego if i want to.

steve gullick

today: nirvana revival deluxe. nirvana songs all day and night long. once in a while i forget how fucking amazing they were. and then i have a day like this and i dropkick myself into total nirvana adoration mode again. tomorrow im gonna watch about a son.

last night me and sandy went to electricity showrooms for richard mortimer’s singalong.
but only after having drinks in shoreditch with oliver and his batman obsessed (lovely) friend.
we dance dance dance’d as we always do at ES, the best dace sessions ive had in ldn has always in fact been at electricity showrooms. something about the floor that instantly transforms you into a dancing queen. then we tubed our way to the dublin castle where we peep’d up with a supercute guy called luke who had some features to smile for. after harmless flirting and jukebox’ing we got soaked in the pooring rain finding refuge at camden bars and after hours hang out before cuddling up with lisa and my earplugs.

now yvan is packing frantically for going to island and sandy is snoring like a baby next to me. all is well.

here’s what we know. 2 people in a tub is comfortable. 3 people in a bath is crowded but oh so fun.

i dont wanna sound like a material girl whore but im ever so slightly in love with this jacket.

i saw ‘no end in sight’ a few days ago. i spent about half the time verbally abusing my macbook for showing it.
watch it!

i’ve been running around in the rain. my thighs are cold.

last night we went to 1. a vice party of some sort (i bumped into a guy i had a crush on 7 years ago in sweden. he had a club at the place i worked at. he looked exactly the same now. married then, girlfriend now. tss.) we ran into our little smack boys, striped sweaters and faux chequered shirt men (private joke indeed). 2. electricity showrooms where my love melissa (chicks on speed) dj’d. me, sandy, lisa and yvan owned the dancefloor. utterly and completly and amazingly fucking graciously. best dance in a long time. 3. mcbeth, which was packed with “im young, im hip, i wanna be a supermodel” kids. lisa and i mostly sat in a corner making out whilst others slutted around. heh. 4. the budblin dublin castle. where my bartender wasnt but some black haired fringe was.

the only pictures i remembered to take were ones in the mcbeth’s skanky bathroom.

ed templeton 

every day there are stories in this little flat (filled with big personalities) that just blow my mind (and usually makes my tummy hurt laughing about it). im a great believer in secrets and have thousands but got damn im going to start telling the secrets of others (with permission).

last night after we’d been out and me and yvan went home, lisa and sandy went to marathon, a camden kebab place which is known as the last chance for romance. (a.k.a desperatly seeking a fuck) there lisa ran into a guy she met down the dublin castle and shortly after that went home with, only to appear the morning after covered in bitemarks. the same guy took her home last night (or well she took him home, to his place) this morning she comes back with a story that made me cry laughing.

the guy has a pool table (you have to be pretty minted to fit a pool table in yr london flat, the only thing we would manage to fit would be a small porcelin poodle with goldpainted collar in a corner) which he cordially fucked lisa on. obviously he has a pretty dirty mindset thinking that it was a great idea to slip a billiard ball up lisas hmm hmm. maybe he thought it wouldnt slip in so easily but it did. lisa told me she didnt even realise what had happen (which made her wonder about other things) until she saw the panicked face he pulled.

he stuttered “oops, eh eh, you’ve got a ball in there!”
lisa thought he was kidding only to realise in fact she was housing a yellow ball inside her.

the next scenario maybe isnt one for the romantic but it includes the guy coaching lisa to “push push!” and finally after some trickery the birth of a little shiny round number one. oh the parents must be so proud.

(this is the first of many “overheard in the camden crack den” posts, im pulling out my quote book)

pic

me - “sandy, lets go swing!”
sandy - “no”
me - “we can do it barefoot”
sandy - “OK!”

im having terrible trouble keeping the last few days apart. we’ve pulled sandy’s (walking in london without shoes), spent time in the air (on the swings) with a carbonated rush of air tingeling through our tummys.

sandy spent some time looking exactly like lindsay lohan. im seriously considering trying to sell some of the pic to heat claiming that la lohan hangs out on a skanky crack den yard in chalk farm. worth at least 50 quid a pop. surely.

then we went out (que the confusion between nights since we go out every night) im sitting here desperatly trying to remember where we went this night (with my only clue to remind me are the outfits) but there’s just no recollection. sandy? lisa?

then lycke impulse-came by and to celebrate the next night we went for sushi. was smashed lyckes sushi virginity to the ground and lisa filled her entire soy bowl with rice like a (ehm) true sushi veteran.

then we did the dublin castle where my cute bartender works.

and somehow ended up at a private party thingy where a live ska band played, we danced and alice dellal dj’d rage against the machine etc. she also went to the loo after me and snorted coke off the lid alternativly the male she pulled with her. classy shit.

around the corner from us is our new fav organic shop /café where me and lycke had smoothie brecky the morning after wilst being romanced by frikadelli, (that wasnt actually his name) an italian with typicly italian good looks who spoke about communism, romance and turning 35. he wanted me to call later that night for coffee (and communistic romance?) on the canal. i didnt. instead i went out with my chicks to the dublin castle and had a fantastic night.

do a little dance

make a little love

… …. tonight

lisa found a t substitue, everyone thought sandy and lycke were lebsos, a jean michel basquiat copy fell in love with me. both me and lisa explained that we already had found the love of our lives. we danced until the sweat trembeled down our backs and the boys lined up to refresh us.

(jen, darling, how much do you like my new silver jacket? you cant see exactly here buts so incredibly chanel/anita pallenberg its untrue. 10 quid. instant love. a true whore for glitz)

last night (at least this one im pretty sure of) we had a brick lane sunday after the usual morning hang-out. (right now we’re 5 living in the flat, moi, sandy, lisa, lycke and yvan) so each morning there’s the obligatory snuggle, wake-up music, brecky in bed sessions. which is actually a nice way to begin the days of our lives. then we sat around with little model junkie boys and scoped out arty men. brilliant day. in the night we decided to do electricity showrooms. i styled lisa edie sedwick style and broke in my faux fur coat. such a hooker look i tell you.

the fuck-up’s

at electricity showrooms we danced like never before, it was pure euphoria. melissa who’s visiting london was there and t was great to see her again. haven’t seen her since working with chicks on speed in brussels. i met the most gorgeous chequered shirt wearing helylle man ever and managed to not show any interest. bloody stupidity is getting the best of me. today its luckys birthday so she’s off the tattoo parlour to get “don’t think twice, its alright” inked across her wrist (and if your a musical analphabet its a dylan lyric). im allowing myself a day in trying to get some peace and quiet. although the last few hours have been spent laughing at yvan for being the biggest geek ever.

last night lycke showed up without any of us knowin she was coming. her final stop on her monthlong backpacking trip trhough europe became our camden shack. they also had with them a friend of sandys so our flat turned fucking youthhostel was packed. with lycke, sandy and nicole in the pull out and me, lisa and yvan in the bed the snoring barometor went through the fucking roof! i had thought ahead and got earplugs but even that couldnt drown out the earthshattering noise coming from sandys nose/mouth. the night turned out to be not all disaster but as i woke i realised the panic spreading from the loud yell voices of chicks waking up left and right. all i did was hid under the cover only to pop up with sarcastic remarks once in a while. yvan thought someone should make a reality tv show out of flat. (and with the pseudo lesbian behaviours happening here 24/7 im sure it would be a hit) although id either have to get a grip and become agressive and hate on everyone or be nude and quiet, he said. i was dressed and semi-quietly annoyed. id apperantly get voted off. although as the girls went down camden today i stayed behind for some much needed r&r and now im back to my perky (?) little wonderful self again. when yvan comes back with the keys, (me as he grabs some keys of the shelf - “dont you already have keys?”
him - “no”
well he did) me, lycke and lisa are going for sushi and goss. until then we amuse ourself with the velvet underground and photobooth.

im trying out a no fringe night tonight. does it look odd?

kullabygden forever

huge boobs

huge arm

those special effects never work. this is the rollercoaster, ehm.

yvan has moved in. our flat is suddenly filled with chocolate. literally bars of chocolate everywhere. the swiss are gonna make us fat!

camden district

home

new best friend

der kinder von camden zoo

so last night we decided to have a nice night in, watching action series and eating falafel. 2 minutes later we were playing kills on top volume and finding outfits to go out. our first two stops were bars in camden where we met friends and i played the good samaritan (earlier sandy helped an old man face the strong wind that almost blew him away like a frail little leaf) by opening the door for good looking men who’s hands were taken with beer. oh what a sacrifice.

then we took the tube to notting hill were a musician lisa and sandy have become good friends with live. (lets not mention any names cause then the rest gets a bit messy) there he and his younger manager (who happens to be lisas whatnot) was cooking curry inbetween smoking huge amounts of heroin. in a flat that cost 400 quid a week surrounded by bankers and solicitors was this skanky crack den covered in pete dochertys blood and pieces of foil. the pure and utter smoked up nonsence that came out of these mouths were to much to bare. ive already done the whole troubled-muscian-on-heroin-romance and me and sandy had a long discussion about it in the gothic bathroom.

he is talented, ill give him that and sweet as sugar. but inbetween the singing and guitarplaying was the typical heroin addict behaviour which if you’ve never seen them is not an attractive quality. we watched the making of performance and did have a genuinly nice moment in the kitchen making pasta. although all and all the sitting in a skangy notting hill flat watching people get fucked up is not my idea of a good night and a taxi across town was well worth it to reach my longing bed at 5am.

(to clarify for my mum who i know reads my blog HEROIN IS BAD and i dont do it!)

….

(added after, my mums comment response) “okey, my dearest sannisheart, thanks, tell your friends to take care of their lives, there is no repris (she means re-run), I am glad you know!!!!!!!! with love to you all, mummin”

last night we decided to get tattoos together. today we did.

when sandy graduated her teacher wrote in her cap that she was structured chaos. in line with her handwritten libertine tattoo she wrote it across her upper arm. i wonder what her teacher would say now.

i got a cross on my left foot (nothing religious about it, im an atheist, i just think crosses are the nicest symbol there is) which ive wanted for years. ive heard that hands and feet are supposed to be the worst place to get a tattoo on since the skin is thinner. but it was love at first feel. i could feel it, no doubt, but i loved the pain of it. as soon as the needle pierced through my flesh i got an adrenaline rush that instantly gestured a smile on my face. the whole time i was beeing tattood i felt geniunely happy. i really did not expect such a reaction. this is no doubt the beginning of a beautiful friendship. (the second he finished i wanted to get another one)

lisa got a swallow below her pantyline.
oveheard in our flat this morning, “is it dirty to have it down there? imagine when you fuck, it’ll be down there with all that filth!” lisa wondering wether its decent to have a swallow so close to her nastys.

we all frickin’ love our new decorations. we love that we did it together on an impulse in camden, a beautiful sunny day in august. i still have that completly euphoric feeling. im not gonna be a cliché and say thats is a natural high. (hahaha) but…..

 last night we went for a pubround in camden. the topics were tattoos, hardcore guys, modettes, skinheads and i laughed so hard that today my belly aches.

no hands snogging

we finally took advantage of the swings in our crack den yard

camden at night