Thomasaj.com

The pakis are running over the grous. The rain is streaming down. Mexican melodies playing on the radio. There’s food. Being prepared. Upstairs. I do not know which kind of food. The smell of peppers circulating outside my doorway. A little hedgedog crosses the road. “Heh, a hedgedog” I notice (out loud). But no one can hear me. No one.. can hears me!

I’m looking out in the horisonts while I think “Father, it’s friday. It’s friday and I don’t have any good stories for the friday corner.” I softly lurk my Bjørn Borg underwear whilst I feel my left testicular is laying all wrong. “God damn Bjørn Borg. Don’t you have any balls!” I shout. “Don’t you have any balls!” is repeated. He obviously doesn’t. Why do you need balls when you’re the worlds greatest tennis star? Except tennis-balls. Why do you need OTHER types of balls! Volleyballs! Basketballs! Footballs (soccerballs). They have no value for a tennisstar.

I really don’t have anything to tell!

Yes. I saw three persons in the open dealing behind Oslo City today. It was right a view.

Here. Take a soft-ice.

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This entry was posted on Friday, April 11th, 2008 at 7:32 pm and is filed under Guest Rants, The Friday Post. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.