Vampirized by Iceland

Lucky me, I have been to escape from Iceland for few days. The free world is amazing. The free world
is sunny and warm. The free world is Sweden.  Tough the free world is kind of strange when you
have to multiply the price of things by 18 in order to know the equivalent price in Icelandic Króna (ISK).
This is not easy to multiply by 18.  and it is also probably very dangerous both for your mental and
emotional health to do that. This is just painful. No one should have to multiply prices by 18.  Maybe
it is time to make the ISK bounce back.  Though when you buy let's say some food, (usually the
cheapest one on the menu), you kind of feel that you are being very naughty. I have felt that.."this is
taboo feeling". This is like playing with fire. Tempting and burning.  

I think the people in Iceland who wants to hold back on the Icelandic króna haven t been abroad for a very long time, or they are
some kind of mathematical genius that can multiply 273 per 18 in less than 10 seconds. Maybe it is
time to let is got. Maybe it is time to pull the plug and let Krónan Bouncedóttir die in peace. Why
shoud the króna  fights curencies who are 18 times stronger?  It is like remaking David and Goliath
but with a drunk legless and armless david. Not  fair. Not even in a chance. 

One other thing that i need to mention is the fact that my body has apparently mutated. I probably do
no photosynthezise sun light anymore. My skins, my cells have given up on sun light.  Thank you
Iceland to have sentenced me to eternal darkness. After a full day in the sun, just walking around i
feel like i have been laying on a tanning bed for a full month. No because I got one of those amazing
healthy tan / orange glow. I just feel cooked on the inside, my brain is mushy, my eyes are tearing
and this even though I was wearing sun glasses. My skin, exposed to those long hours of sunlight
did not even changed color. I am still as white as Casper the ghost' s ass. Not even a red sunburn
spot.

Nothing. Nada. Rien de rien. 

Le Virgile il est toujours  blanc comme un cul.  I remenber few
years ago, when i was exposing myself to the sun, I was getting at least redish. Now I have as much
albedo as a glacier in Iceland. I am reflecting sunlight. Conclusion of the sun exposure day: I have
been vampirized by Iceland and I am not one of one of those sparkling/glittering Twigh Light
vampire.  The next time i expose myself to the sun, i will most likely change into a puff of ashes.  
Thank you Iceland, to have changed the French man that I am, into a creature of darkness.   The only
thing that I have to do now is to wander the streets of Gautaborg and to look for blood.  

V

How do you F****like Iceland?

This is how a normal salad/lettuce looks like.

How do you F**** like Iceland?

Right now honey...not very much. I am a bit Over Dosing on it. I am getting tired of this country. When i came six years ago, it seemed to be the country of love and honey... or what ever sweet stuff you can eat. Today i have been forced after months, years of struggles, to create the

Union of pissedoffforeignersthatgotfuckingtrickedbyIcelandandwanttheirlifeback.

Dear Iceland, you deceit me. We demand that Iceland.

- You learn to make the difference between a tomato ready for consumption and one that should hang on the tomato tree a bit longer, because when it is still that green it is not good to eat.

- Check the living status of vegetable. Not that we love surprises when we put our hands in vegetables boxes to pick green tomatoes...but sometimes...when it is gone that green and it is softy and moldy...and start to run after you and want to eat you... it is not good for consumption anymore. We are suppose to be at the other side of the food chain.

- We demand that you let your local Icelandic salad grows more than 5 leaves. I have seen salads in France, and in many other countries, they do not look like the one you are selling unless there has been a heat wave...which is impossible with the shitty cold, windy very snowy winter that you just offered us. Let the fucking salad grow.

- You don´t need to sell me the salad with the pot and ground. It is not a decorative plant. It is food. A salad is something you eat, not something that you display.

- Learn the name of the fucking vegetables. Me as a customer, going to a store, i would like to not have to worry about teaching those kids working behind cash machine what is...a zucchini, an aubergine, or a pumpkin, a passion fruit and even an avocado. (totally did this job when i was younger and i knew at least a 10 vegetables)

- If you don´t want your store staff to be embarrassed, stick to simple vegetable and fruits

- Chicken is meat. Goose is meat. Duck is meat so when i am in a place where i am eating and i don´t have the choice of the menu and one of your national waiter brings me a piece of Chicken or Goose or Duck and i am telling you that i am a Peisco-vegetarian (eat fish, vegetable but not mammal meat) and that i don´t eat that kind of stuff...Please Iceland don´t tell me that this is chicken, this is not meat.

- So learn vegetable names and do not mix them up with things that have feathers. Those are not the same.

- Why does Icelandic gouda taste the same as Icelandic feta who taste the same as Icelandic emmental which taste the same as Icelandic camembert who taste the same as Icelandic maribo which taste the same as Icelandic gouda? One cheese recipe, plenty of wrapping possibilities? Seriously?

- Why do you have to put in my daily newspaper picture of photoshoped meat slices and other meaty product? This is not attractive at all especially when it comes next to the obituary pictures or the freshly borne ones. It makes ones wander.

- Orange…People are not supposed to be orange. I am a geographer, I have dealt with quite a lot of people from all around the world, and no one is naturally orange especially in winter time. Get pale !

- I don´t really like to see that on every street corner the clothes that my grandmother would be wearing if she was still alive. This is ok to be a young hip and cool hipster and go vintage but seriously that leopard blouse you are wearing, with those purple cigarette pants…just don’t do it for you. My grandmother could rock that outfit you can´t. You are in your twenties, you don´t live in the twenties, or in the thirties, or in the fifties, neither in eastern europe during communist time.

- Did I mention that you were orange while wearing this?

- When my nose is full…. I use…a tissue to empty it. I blow my nose and then dispose of the tissue in a trash. I do not catch this nose full opportunity to suck it up my brain and makes animal noises.

- That this is not because on the map it seems that you are on the top of the world that…you are the Top of the world. Be versatile!

- Why does your female representative hide their “most beautiful beauty of the world” under a thick layer of make-up? Is it some kind of technique to prevent their kidnapping during some eventual Viking raid against Iceland? If it is the case, it is working perfectly.

- I have been here for more than 6 years. You do not need to ask me…When are you going home?…Because I am not! I am here to take your job, your money and your potential mate. (already did that last one, pretty proud of it).

- This is because I can answer já to the question Geturðu tala Íslensku ? (Can you speak Icelandic?) that I am fucking an awesome genius in Icelandic and that ég tala svo vel íslensku (I speak so good icelandic). Give a bit more credit, I can also say Nei and takk.

- Your language…Not that hard to learn, 6 years, 1 year of courses, a lot of guessing and voilà.

- Why does everyone has to have the same name? My husband has 3 cousins around his age with the same name and “family” name as him. I had to find him a silly nickname to differentiate him from the other ones.

- Stop to butcher my name. Virgile is not that hard to pronounce when you have volcanoes named eyjafjallajökull. Make an effort, if you can spit eyjafjallajökull you can spit my name.

- Your English…not that good and it comes from French person.

- Hire better translaters for the TV because me the Já guy that speaks so vel Islensku starts to realizes that sometimes your translation it does not really make sense.

- You don´t need to nationalize and literally translate the name of TV and Movie characters. Liz Lemon from 30 rock can´t be Lisa Sitrona, the same goes with Luke Skywalker and ALL the others ones.

- This is not because a star like Jake Gyllenhall (who is right now in Iceland) comes for a visit for once that he is a friend of Iceland. Friendship is not based on one visit.

- When on TV one of your journalist or TV host you present subject about HIV, World hanger, genocide, death….Please try to keep that smile, that joyful tone and those porcelainevenir teeth for your next office party. Serious subject. Serious face.

We are done for now, Iceland you may now go take a long look at yourself in the mirror and do some thinking. Don´t worry We will be back.

Virgile

President of the Union of the PissedoffforeignersthatgotfuckingtrickedbyIcelandandwanttheirlifeback

The kitty plague of Iceland.

A vicious Icelandic viking kitty.

It has been a long time people. It has been a very long time since i posted something last summer i think, when i was (rightfully) whining about the new mayor/clown in chief of Reykjavík. History has shown that i was right. It did not took long J Anyway. No wait, i posted a stuff about gay Iceland? Today´s blog is dedicated to pussies.

People, while you read these lines, you should know that vicious cats are taking over Iceland. Yes, you read well: CATS. One might think that Icelanders should be worried about Icesave and the future of their children, bearing the burden of....blablabla mewwww mewwww....

Cats! People. CATS! They are taking over Iceland. The whole country will be soon dominated by an army of purring fur balls longing for petting sessions. The Kitty Plague is rambling the country. Think 28 days later VS Hello Kitty.

This is under the attack of cats, that I am writing theses lines. They may be my last.

Icelanders have a fucked relationship with their pet. For many years, dog were simply forbidden in Reykjavík. No one really knows why. If you live in a complex building, you have to ask the authorization of all the residents/owners within the building.If one does not want your pet, you cannot get it. If you don´t respect, the dog or cat police will come and take away your favourite pet and punish it. I am not kidding. Keep reading.

I live for example on the 5th floor of a complex building composed of 25 apartments. The laws of the building strictly stipulate that this is “officially” forbidden to own any kind of pet, without the consent of all the apartment owners. The laws from my building have been made before my birth (almost 30 years ago). Today, there are many pets in the building, despite the law (many cats). Residents live in total deny, THE National Sport in Iceland. The house meetings are extremely funny. Anyway, let´s go back to Iceland HATE for pet. The funny thing is that the argument is based on allergies. Ok fair enough, but for example, I am allergic to alcohol, maybe I should ask my neighbours to stop to hit the bottles while at their home, use perfumes, or any product that do contain alcohol, such as shampoos, creams, anything containing vinegars…etc. Fun isn´t it?

So inhabitants of Reykjavík were once forbidden to own pet. Today the situation got better, especially for dog and dog owner. Nevertheless, the situation for cats did not get better. We can all be glad of that. That is why, when one take a stroll down town Reykjavík, he will be surprised to meet on his way numerous cats, known as the slutty cats of 101 (the area code of this part of the city). Why slutty? Because they know that sex sells, and if they totally play the “I am a the Maria Magdalena of all pussies card”, you will be tempted to pet them. They will purr, they might even follow you a bit, but all this is just a stratagem to to charm you and exterminate you.

A cat and a polar bear down town Reykjavik ready to attack.

During last few months, several municipalities around Iceland have taken measure preventing the vicious invasion and taking over of Iceland by cats. First, Kópavogur, a charming, popular and not at all corrupted city situated in one the lovely suburbs of Reykjavík had to take drastic measure to fight its cat problems. I mean, cats were taking over the town. They were wandering around, chasing bird, crossing streets and even sometimes, gardens. Some people got mewed, one woman got her hand scratched and someone had a cat sneaking into his home at night. Vicious creatures! What might seem to be a normal behaviour by crazy cat ladies around the world (and me). Seem to be for inhabitants of Kópavogur a plot for taking over their town and the whole country. As a good soldier and all time prepared to defend Iceland, the town took extreme measures. They declared that all shall wear necklaces and be identifiable. If traitors /read cat owners failed to fulfil those requirements and if their hypothetic cat is being caught walking around without the necklace around its neck, the animal will be immediately arrested, and can be sentence to up to five days in the cat jail. The animal will be release to its owner after the sentence. The people of Kópavogur had no choices. They had to take actions. They even created 2 jobs for that. The cat police. I can´t even start to imagine the strategies cats have to develop to keep their vicious businesses running and escape the men in uniforms. Mewwww

In Hafnafjörður, also another lovely town in the suburbs of Reykjavík, residents of a nursing home situated 1) in the middle of a lava field 2) in the outskirt of town 3) close to a hjali (a a wooden structure used to dry fish) have been forbidden to feed the surrounding cats. They are mainly attracted by the hjali, but sometimes, they come to the old people nursing home and ask to be fed or even worst….pet. All this vicious purring makes one sick !

So it is now illegal to feed the “lava fied cats”. The town authorities and the director of the nursing home have even threaten to expelled the residents if they were not respecting the ban. They certainly hope that the unfed cats will just run disappear. My experience with cats tells me that 1) cats will get hungry, 2) they will eat the old people and feast in their remains. This how cats deal that kind situation. Mewwwww

In the north of the country, the town of Akureyri; known to be the second biggest town of Iceland, outside the capital area. A town that you should definitively visit if you have nothing to do at all and want to make a cure/detox based on the consumption of bad coffee and béarnaise sauce (N.B. they are usually served together. Do not ask why). Anyway. The town decided that inhabitants of the town, should first of all limit themselves to 3 cats per household (you can own as many other pets you want), that all the cats should be tagged and wear a necklace (fair enough). In addition to that, people will have to pay a yearly fee (6000 isk / 6000 in monkey money / 40 euros / 52 dollars) for each cat one owns. 18 000 isk a year if you have 3 cats; knowing that a cat can live more than 20 years, that is a lot of money. These cats better be the Roll-Royce of purring.

Those are only 3 example of the Kitty plague who is striking Iceland. While, we inhabitants of Iceland, are comfortably seating in our living room, worrying over the horrific state of the world, the fact that Iceland is being bullied by the whole universe and beyond, by the fact that the oil prices are going up because those Libyans do want more democracy. Cats are slowly taking over the country. They are vicious purring fur balls, looking for ways to wipe Icelanders out of the face of the Earth. They purr, they hiss, they mew and sometimes scratch.

People Beware! Run for the hills.

Mewwww Mewwww

Seriously. Why do Icelanders hate pet? Well my theory is that Icelanders hate pet like they hate ornamental flowers. Explaination: When the Althing, the current parliament building of Iceland was built at the end of the 19^th century, a garden was created at the back of the building. In this garden, were planted tuilips and ornamental flowers. When that happened for the first time, Newspapers, journalists and people went mad about it. They were protesting the fact that had been planted non edible plants. Those plants were then useless and what was left of it have been destroyed. At that time, some sheep were running freely around Reykjavik. They started the job, humans finished it. Anyway, my point being that those plants got destroyed because they had no productive goal. They were just ornamentals thus useless. I think Icelanders have the same relationship with pets and especially with cats. They don´t see the point in them because you can´t eat them. Though Icelanders do eat weird stuff like subways boats, dominos pizzas and KFC chickens. Anyway, that is why I think they don´t like cat.

I love cats. I have had many when I was a kid, up to 5 if I remember right. That probably makes me a traitor in Iceland. ( just add it to my Icelandic treasons ‘list). I have been infected by the kitty plague.

This is getting late, and this is time for me to go to bed. Before that, I will have to obey to my 7 year old cat, May, who force me to let her (I humanize her a lot) drink water from the bathtub tap. I will also have to deal with the malicious attacks of Jóga, my 1 year old kitty who thinks that my toes are cocktail sausages waiting to be eaten (though she might be right). If I survive, they will fall asleep between my leg, purring, making sure than I cannot run away. If I make it through the night, around 7ish, Jóga will viciously sneak her paws under the cover, at different strategic spots (cocktail sausage, knees, ribs) to check if I am dead or not. If I am still alive, she will then go back to sleep.

Mewwwwww Mewwwww

Terror starts at home.

Virgile