A VISIT TO THE NUTTY NORWEGIANS
- or -
HOW TO MAKE A FOOL OF YOURSELF IN TWENTY LANGUAGES
- or -
A TRIP UP NORTH WITH CRONOS WARCHILD
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OH BEAUTIFUL NORWAY I LOVED THEE...
- or -
CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF A FEMALE KIND
- or -
HOW TO MAKE A NERVOUS WRECK OUT OF YOUR BIORHYTHM
- or -
SHIT, WHAT'S THAT TOWEL DOING IN THERE?
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WHERE DID ALL THOSE OSES COME FROM?
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A NUTTY IMPRESSION OF A CERTAIN PART OF NORTHERN EUROPE
- or -
ON THE RUN FOR THE GREENHOUSE EFFECT
- or -
NIGHTMARE ON BJØRKEVEGEN PART XIX
- or -
INTERLUDE TO THE ENCYCLOPAEDIA NORWEGICA
- or -
A FIRST LESSON IN NORWEGIAN FOR TRAVELLERS
- or -
THE HITCHHIKER'S GUIDE TO NORWAY
- or -
ENGLISH FOR NUTTIES
by Stefan, Richard, Ronny, Lars-Erik, Torbjørn, Karl Anders,
Frøystein, Gard, Elin, Ole J., Morten, Bent, Kjetil, Bjørn,
Simen, Knis (the cat), Hanne-Mari, Anne-Grete and Bjørge
All individual people writing in this article are entirely
responsible for what they have written. No responsibility
whatsoever goes to the editorial staff of ST NEWS, unless where
they have written themselves.
You might at times be left wondering about the rather strange
setup of this article. Please remember that this article was not
only 'real time' typed, but also recorded on a walkman and later
typed out. This might result even in two stories being told at
the same time...
Part VII - Tuesday, January 2nd 1990
'Fart!', Richard uttered.
'I am stupid' - Stefan. 'Oh yeah, indeed' - Richard.
'Oh, how smart you are' - Stefan. 'Ha!'
'You are a complete asshole'-Richard.'You are welcome'-Stefan.
Richard's last fart for tonight.
"Wake me up before you go-go"
We're all going to bed. Although we miss the company of the
previous night, we still long for this simply action (of
sleeping, that is).
Frøystein now also sleeps in the camper, but he will have to
sleep next to Lars-Erik. Poor Frøyboy...
The radio is playing, and little Frøykid complains that he wants
to read before he goed to sleep (or does he want to be read TO?).
Stefan is farting horribly, and I am afraid I am doing quite the
same. Both Norwegians are now happily chatting Norwegian, and
when I ask them what they are talking about, they say "Politics".
Sometimes, some weird laughter arises from them two.
Lars-Erik just complained and hit Frøystein's solar plexus. When
saying so, Lars-Erik got a laughter attack the likes of which
would fit like a glove in an Asylum for the Very Very Insane.
They just KEEP on talking, those two...
We're getting slightly irritated, also because we want to sleep
slowly but surely now.
EY! SHUT YOUR FACES AND GO TO SLEEP!
Richard is still sleeping. Elin and Ronny are out of sight, but
they are hopefully up. Oh yeah - Stefan is actually up....
OK guys, I am awake (thanks to large amounts of Norwegian water
which termperature must be dangerously close to zero) and already
dressed in snow-boots, skiing-pants and other stuff. They'd
better watch me, I'll be up that mountain before you can read the
450Kb crazy letter (remark: We gave the Norwegians a 450 Kb Crazy
Letter upon our arrival at Ronny's, in case you had forgotten)!
I'm not going to freeze today!
(The mountain climbing quest begins)
I'm now out of bed, too. I think I will first try to have a
good go at the shower (which will be difficult with torn hands
like mine), and then....
I have succeeded in showering myself, and I even gathered
courage enough to shave myself within inflicting some kind of
mortal wounds upon my throat.
Will my bad luck be over?
I have just had a (rather late) breakfast, after Mr. Hatlemark
found me here and told me there was still some bread and other
stuff left upstairs.
I feel better now, actually.
I had not expected the nutties & Co to be back so soon, but they
have actually returned at this very moment!
Gone is the peace and quiet of this room...
Ohhh... I almost committed suicide. A some stage after the
first hill my pulse was about 250 (yeah...yeah...ED.) and I
started to feel a certain pain in my chest. As the last thing I
wanted was a heartattack I sat down and took pictures of the
other ones climbing the rest of the way until they were only
small dots in the horizon....
Astma, thin air (hey, they won't agree) and mountain climbing
(I'll bet they won't agree now either :-) is a bad combination...
After having changed clothes and exchanged some infra-
illuminations with Lars-Erik, I put on some music, some music
that makes up a welcome change to the terrible music I have had
to listen to during this Christmas: SKRUK, the gospel choir. I
will leave the mountain stroll for Stefan to write about.
Stefan will now go and cook spaghetti for all of us!
I know I surely have a cold. My nose is feeling wretched, and my
throat feels like it has just been through the Texas Chainsaw
Massacre (Parts I & II - and maybe even III).
The hottest news of today (which I just read in a couple of
newspapers) is that an 18 year old German Norwegian resident
watched a porno movie and afterwards raped and killed a Norwegian
17 year old girl. It happened 67 days ago, but now the police has
solved the crime (they sampled his semen to prove that he did
it....clever cops!). Boy what a sucker. They should cut his nuts
off, and afterwards inflict the death sentence upon his eunuch
I just found out, after having played the game for years, that
"Bubble Bobble" has some cheat stuff in it: F2 gets one level up.
and F3 gets five levels up.
How could I not know that all the time?
Thank you, Frøystein (especially since you were so prompt with
telling me - well....two years isn't that much...).
We've just had dinner. It was too much and just enough slightly
spicy. The Norwegians, however, considered it to be a bit too
much slightly spicy.
Yeah, the meal was just the tiny, little part too spicy. It was
very good, though, but the spanish pepper hindered me from eating
as much as I would prefer to. Richard must have felt something
like that, too, even though he won't admit it.
He is trying to bend a strenghtening device which is supposed to
be stretched. It seems as though he doesn't succeed, though.
Stefan and Elin keep on playing Bubble Bobble, which results in
a stream of interesting Norwegian words concerning religuous
matters from Elin.
Richard's first audible fart after the meal.
Poor Ronny is trying to write an essay in here. I can't see how
he can finish it, though. We really should leave this room in
order to give him the necessary peace and quiet.
Peace. It's just me and Beethoven. Richard, Stefan, Frøykid and
the whole lot just left the room for some sightseeing or
something (actually, a visit to the Temple of Lord HackBear
himself, ED.). I'm therefore supposed to start on that f.cking
excercise now; It will probably be a stupid story about Christmas
and food (I don't like people telling me what to write).
My stomach is still aching from that dinner we ate. It was damn
good, but a bit too hot for me. Someone suggested that we should
go to a restaurant called 'Hong Kong' tomorrow and eat some even
more hot food... Needless to say, my metabolic system will then
go bananas for sure. The mere thought gives my head a terrible
Tomorrow a bell will undoubtedly ring at around 8:30, announcing
that I should be firmly located on some chair in some classroom
at some school. This isn't quite as bad as it sounds, though,
because Anne-Grete will be there too... (!!!). I miss her voice,
thoughts, jokes, laughter (yeah! ED.), smile, lips, body...
I just switched off Beethoven, because I couldn't concentrate. I
don't know whether that was Beethoven's fault or not, but it's
worth a try, because right now the excercise is getting nowhere.
I guess I know why I can't concentrate... The reason starts with
'A'... (sigh!) Anyway, I MUST keep trying!
After some rather unhealthy partying, some hacking and even more
well deserved sleep, I have as a matter of fact recovered, just
to find that hardly anybody is present in this house. Right now
Ronny is trying to write an essay.
'Steik for et bra avsnitt!' Ronny says. Translated this means
something like 'Man, what a good paragraph!' I have to admit that
it's quite good, but he has used about an hour to write 12 lines
So have I...
And while I remember: Happy new year!
Lars-Erik finally arrived and is now trying to communicate with
Ronny. Due to problems with different dialects they almost have
to switch to English. Weird...
Hi guys, this is Frøystein, your shipboard computer(-brain).
Ronny's father (swell guy, by the way) came into the room and
asked who had put this large, yellow, scuba gear bag in front of
the house? The dogs were going mad about it, thinking it was a
time bomb or something. Fræsytein
Frøystein (It's hopeless! I have been trying to find a nice
finger-sentence for my name)
Morten, Ole J., Stefan and myself just came back from a visit to
the residence of Lord HackBear. Apart from the fact that we spent
a lot of time gazing at an enormous number of disks with ready-
hacked demos as well as an excercise book that contained all his
hacking notes ("BIG Demo", "Union Demo"....er...."Thalion Sound
Demo"....more....), we spent lots of time trying to impress one
another with a home trainer and several other devices that are
commonly used to try to make one's physique stronger. Further, we
played a lot of table tennis and even played some table ice-
But before I forget....just before we went, I had a short chance
at calling Miranda. I was desperately longing for some contact
with her, and hearing her voice made me relight with rejoice. I
am dying to meet her again, and although it's loadsa fun here in
Ørsta, I cannot wait to feel her warm embrace around me.
I think I know pretty much how Ronny feels right now. The lucky
bastard will see his Anne-Grete tomorrow, however!
I know I wanted to write something more, but it evidently
slipped my mind.
Finally a chance to write something.
Due to a certain bug in a certain wordprocessor program, my
endeavours to describe the mountain trip today were brutally cut
off. Since I hate writing the same thing twice, it took me quite
a while to regain the necessary energy to repeat it.
At about eleven this morning, I climbed into Lars-Erik's car,
totally ready for anything. We followed an Ose car that took us
just around the mountain that you see when you look out of
Ronny's window. It's called 'Melshornet' by the way. We parked
the cars at the base of a winding, snow-covered trail that seemed
to disappear into a vast, white nothingness. The following people
were there: Lars-Erik, Ole J., Lord HackBear, Ronny, Elin, Morten
and Bent (and myself of course). I took a very deep breath and
started up the trail. Lord HackBear set the pace and I was
surprised that I had no apparent trouble following him. After
about 15 minutes, we missed somebody and it turned out to be
Lars-Erik. Due to astma, he couldn't go on anymore, and decided
to stay behind, panting on a rock.
Another 15 minutes later, it started to get tough. The snow was
getting looser and looser, making progress quite difficult. Time
after time I had to pull one of my feet from a gaping hole in the
snow. When I looked back sometimes, I saw a view most
breathtaking. A rolling valley with a small lake at the base of
three mountains surrounding it. It was covered in a subtle white
teint of snow and it was very beautiful indeed.
But I had to go on. Lord HackBear was ruthless. And the slope
was getting steeper and steeper. Soon, my breath was very short
and I could feel my pulse in my throat. But the fresh air and
the immense view kept me going. Large amounts of time later (I
lost all feeling of time), I just fell down in the snow, not able
to move another limb. Fortunately, there were some more people
experiencing slight feelings of fatigue now. Elin was falling
behind, and Ronny was looking a bit tired too. But the Oses had
no mercy on a struggling Dutchie and just walked up the murdering
slopes without the slightest signs of exhaustion. When Ronny told
me that the top would be less than hundred metres away, renewed
vigour carreered through my veins and I started again. But I
faltered minutes later and fell to my knees. I started crawling
and not until I noticed a large pile of rocks blocking my path, I
realized I actually made it to the top. Everybody was there
(Morten was the first one to reach it) and after some minutes of
regaining my composure I was able to get up and the resulting
display of nature's beauty was almost enough to knock me down
again. Mountains everywhere. All of Ørsta was a very long way
underneath me and it really is too hard to describe so I'd better
quit my tries for no prose created by man would be worthy of the
immense beauty I beheld.
We spent some time on the top, taking pictures and writing our
names in a little book concealed in the pile of rocks.
The way back was fun.
We actually ran down, and at the bits where the snow was really
hard, we would let ourselves fall on our butts, and slide down a
long way. Unfortunately, some (a lot actually) snow got under my
sweater and immense feelings of cold and freezing clasped my
already tired being. But running down the mountain surely made me
feel quite hot so the feelings vanished very quickly.
Anyway, at the bottom, Lars-Erik was waiting for us and we drove
to Volda to get some Coke. The first store we raided, 'Viking
Mat', turned out not to carry any REAL coke!! With immense
feelings of disgust, we left it and moments later, I emerged from
another store, clutching a half-litre bottle of Coke. The way
back was only interrupted by Lars-Erik taking the wrong turn, but
we soon returned to Ronny's place. The rest is history.
I guess there's not even SLIGHT peace (nor SLIGHT quiet) here in
the room, yet Ronny shows himself to be a real talent in acting
like it all doesn't bother him. Now and again, a slightly nervous
smile wrinkles his lips. Now and again, he even nodds 'yes' or
slowly shakes his head in affirmation.
I think he just left - maybe his acting made him very tired.
Unfortunately, during his leaving he left the door open.
CAN SOMEONE CLOSE THE F.CKING DOOR?!
Thanks, Ole J.
Where was I?
I guess I was nowhere, so I'll stop again.
Karl-Anders is now trying to convince everybody in this room,
that he is better with the ST than Niclas of the Carebears, this
man has the right sense of humour, hasn't he? (But he didn't
convince me at all). Now he's trying to take it all back?
Well, what shall I write about now?
STefan and me played table tennis in Lord Hackbear's residence,
actually STefan was really good at table tennis, but he claimed
that he hadn't played before.
This is maybe the last time that I am writing in this article,
but don't cry just like Richard is doing now. Karl-Anders is now
trying the best he can manage to break Ronny's chair...... And
Lars-Erik is rewriting Ronny's essay, and before him, Elin was
doing it. I think that Ronny is happy when all these people in
the room have gone home again.
I didn't say that I was better than Niclas of the CareBears, but
that I had some routs that were actually better than those of
Niclas. Mind you, he's probably improved his routines by now,
Well, it's late and I'm going home to my bed. Tomorrow I have to
go to the f.. (I can't write such words in this article) school.
This is the last day of my Christmas holiday. Well, I guess I'd
better go home now!
Both Ose cousins are now leaving, and Fredrik has just entered
(carefully gazing at the Aiwa walkman). Metallica's "...And
Justice for All" is shredding the silence in a way Ollie North
used to do with evidence.
"What do you call table tennis?"
I'm also thinking of going home now, for the same reason as
previously mentioned by a certain Ose. This, however, has little
effect, for I will try to be sitting in the same hydro carbonate
motioned confused aggregate of translongitudidumali revectoring
ferroglacial structure enveloping furniturecollectorexciting
items in which the being sitting next to me on the couch in the
very basically wooden cubelike structure I am typing this in will
roam, which means that I am not the one to decide the excact
relative (of course) position in the fourth of Einstein's
dimension concept where I will be induced with the necessary and
correctly polarized amount of kinetic energy to bring me to the
certain point where I will be able to retard my caputive
electrochemical impulses. Because if I do, I can go to sleep. We
all need to sleep, my mummy says.
Frøystein and Karl Anders are now indeed preparing to leave.
Fear and sadness clasps my heart as I realise that this will
surely be the last time for a long while that we see them.
I can barely refrain from crying my heart out.
"I want some Coke before I leave!"
As you probably understood I am now going to transport Frøystein
back to Austefjorden, where at least he will put his lingual
brainwaves to rest. And unless I should be so unfortunate as to
occasionally fold my car around a tree or something else that
should stand in the gutter, I should in an hour or so be able to
eventually put my main CPU in halt modus i.e. sleep.
Yeah, he finally did it! After fifteen minutes of 'obliterating
my nerves in a very eldritch way', he finally quit. Bye for now!
In this moment of devastating sadness, I think it is wise to hit
the sleeping bag (or whatever). So therefore I think I will.
After a long session of teaching the Norwegians to read Dutch,
and being taught how to count in Norwegian by Elin, it's time to
hit the camper. Let Ronny have his well-deserved peace and sleep.
He will be strangely eager to get to school tomorrow I believe.
Poor guy, his room is a mess again....
I'm about to get ready for bed, but Lars-Erik just got it into
his deranged mind that he just HAD to copy some 10+ disks right
now, so I'll have to wait until he gets his ass out of here.
23:46? Wow! This must be the first night during the Dutch
invasion of Norway that we go to bed before the day after the day
of which we're speaking.
Anyway, everybody is off now, so I'm left alone with just myself
and some certain thoughts... (sigh!). Let's get ready for tomor-
We have now retreated to the camper. Tomorrow will be our last
full day in Ørsta. I don't ant to leave this town with its great
people, but I do want to go back to Holland!
Gosh...I miss Miranda more by the minute....
I have found a means to keep me warm in a better fashion while
sleeping in the camper. Since the heater has partly collapsed, it
can now only be put on a somewhat low temperature. So I put on my
normal sleeping gear (boxer short and some kind of Heavy T-shirt)
together with my pyjamas (which I originally took to wear under
my normal clothes when going outside in what Ronny estimated to
be -20 degrees Centigrade).
I am VERY tired - maybe 'coz I'm feeling slightly (?) ill. So
I'll go to sleep very fast...
The text of the articles is identical to the originals like they appeared in old ST NEWS issues. Please take into consideration that the author(s) was (were) a lot younger and less responsible back then. So bad jokes, bad English, youthful arrogance, insults, bravura, over-crediting and tastelessness should be taken with at least a grain of salt. Any contact and/or payment information, as well as deadlines/release dates of any kind should be regarded as outdated. Due to the fact that these pages are not actually contained in an Atari executable here, references to scroll texts, featured demo screens and hidden articles may also be irrelevant.