Second hand man

Slowly but surely I'm restocking on ancient artifacts to color my low-budgeted life. The other day I had my first dead mans garage experience finding all kinds of amazing stuff from the days of disco and polyester. Peering through the life of this deceased uncle I found some 70's picnic cups, a Kodak Instamatic 104 and a carry on American Tourister kit. Some pieces of Americana I had never seen before. Like Scandinavians have their strange Russian/German/French stuff lying around, the Americans are mostly self-provided when it comes to vintage knick knacks. I hope to reap more from this chamber of secrets.

I just came home from the ghetto surroundings of 7th and Lucas Ave. My fresh friend Alan took me there after we helped Jonathan carry his stuff into his new place. I'm weeping silent tears over not getting to live with him, you can't have it all. I am now thinking of ways to spiff up my living quarters for cheap, my last expensive investment was a mountain bike me and Alan just haggled down to 150 bucks. It runs great but needs some tweaking, I'm hoping Tommy will turn it into one of his many art projects so it doesn't look like a Sears Catalog item anymore.

If people are still wondering what this trip was about, I'll try to enlighten you. I am here to look for a way to legally stay. I fell in love with this town, the first time around and I would love to live here under a prolonged visa situation. The student life was good for me, but I would love to be able to work in some way, while being here - maybe even through Norway - in order to support whatever projects I get into in the future. I feel like my mind is being put to work again after repetitive months at the Book Club back home. I miss a lot of things about Norway, but the living in between the peaks feels easier on the soul over here.

Lucy the pit bull is snoring next to me and Jonathan took most of the lights with him as he left, leaving the place a dungeon. I have already started to put the wheels of cleanliness in motion here and will get this place back in ship shape ASAP. If I have to play the house wife/commanding officer for a while, then so be it. I hope your ever-sparkling thoughts are with me.

Peace out mofos, cause space echos in smelted legos and eat hardy!

Alien Ressurection

Yes! It is I, Einar the pilgrim, the thirsty traveler, the newborn Pastafarian, the swollen member, the douche. Again I find myself on US soil, the wonderful turf that once supported many a corn field and roaming buffalo. And as the formula goes: US SOIL = BLOGGY TIME. As I continue to write these memoirs of an underachiever I secretly hope they will spread like chlamydia in a catholic choir answering a few questions you might have about my sense of reality.

So much ambition, so few plans

Arriving in my old stomping grounds of Downtown LA has been a different experience this time around. Already there are plenty of reasons to make me lose the pathetic strands of dead skin i call my hair. Anyone who's had a conversation with me in the last 4 years will know that I am a man of the feline persuasion. This is being put to the test as I am now living with a real breathing Pit bull. She's a bitch, literally and she is becoming very fond of me, so fond in fact that you can't be in the room with her without her throwing herself at my feet and presenting her overly teeted stomach. I might be developing a soft spot for her meaning I would definitely not eat her if given the chance.

This will no doubt be a different trip than the last as four months in this place with no Norwegian influence has made the place go completely apeshit. Downtown is evolving, like it or not, new mega structures are popping up and the homeless residents are finding themselves in spiffy well lit surroundings. Little Tokyo is unchanged however and I am enjoying my gluttonous self in my old favorite restaurants. I've fallen in love with an old Japanese couple who have a little hole in the wall called AOI. I often sneak in there to cleanse my sinful soul with green tea and suck in the timelessness of the surroundings. They have an autographed picture of Burt from the old comedy show "Soap" hanging over the register. That alone is worth the meal ticket.

I've decided to cut this blurb short due to laziness. Y'all have a nice time, ya hear! More poorly written stuff to come.