Quote:
After years of soul searching in the sahara desert i was adopted by a buddhist monk. Whilst meditating in the mountains i was unnexpectedly face to face with a goat. A while passed, and the goat continued to stare into my entranced gaze. It was at that moment i knew, for what ever reason, that i should visit norway.
Once the customs officers had cleared my sitar and my Proboscis monkey, Randolf, we headed out of Oslo in search of inner peace and a name to put to the legend of "I". After Randolf and i stared at a pile of naked wrestling men, which turned out to be a statue, we started our journey into the mountains. A word of warning however, Never come between a norwegian and his fish, as Randolf lost 2 fingers in an attempt to free a salmon from a drunk norwegian man called Svein.
Several weeks of meandering through the norwegian mountains i came across a solitary green box in the mountains. Inquisitivly i peered inside to find a book of names. This book of names it turns out is one of heroes and legends, names of people accomplishing feats of strength and endurance. (quite frequently it seems), after reading a name that was surely a mixture of 3 different names i noticed it, a man running on a pair of skiis.
Looking at Randolf, we could not quite figure out if this was a devine being or just a norwegian, Intently we stared as the man approached, wondering what wise words he would bestow upon us...
Nearing us he whispered to us, visibly out of breath, "Hei da! Hvaaa sjerrr aaa gutta?" Not speaking this devine language we humbly bowed before this god and accepted his passing. The god, or as we later found out "Frode", stopped for a minute before removing the pencil from the lanyard and enscribing his name in the book, recording the date and time. This Randolf and i decided must be a book of true champions. But apparently it was just a way of recording your "lap" time across the mountains.
Positivly enlightened by Frode, as he ran off into the distance, we carried on hiking. After days and days of marching and staggering we saw what looked like a shed in the distance. It was at this point we came to our first " Pøb ", walking in the door we notice an arrangement of metal pipes with handles on, dispensing a rather golden looking beverage, locally known as " Øl ". After several of these " Halv Liter" we notice a young woman sat in the corner surrounded by lesser women, Oh how randolf would stare, the creature had no shame!. It was at that point i realised my calling in life, My one true aspiration. The soul purpose to my existance. But before i could realise what was going on, Randolf had already approached these women. The poor creature was dancing around, grasping the hair of the women, Staring at there breasts, tugging on his testis, flailing wildy and being generally quite obscene. I had to do something, so i calmly strolled over in my sarong and introduced myself to these fine women. Suddenly, it clicked, every part of my brain fell into place. My years of meditating kicked in and before i realised it i was in a taxi with "ingvild" and "birthe" going back to a "nach" at her place.
that is why, how and where i became skandi.
TLDR; Norwegians are gods
ps... yes i am drunk ^^
Cheers to that, LOLed a lot
CHAT
