The Snobby Finnish Crows

So basically the English Crow is ”Crrrrow!” to the Swedish Kråka and the Swedish Kråka is “Krrrråka!” to the German Krähe and therefore the German Krähe must be “Krrrrähe” to the Finnish, uhmmm...”Varis”?

Hmmm, somehow this doesn’t make a lot of sense.

Maybe it’s just me. There are a few of these fellows outside, I think I’ll listen for a while, the merry mind sometimes makes it so when you think hard enough!

One by one.

“Crrrrow!” yes definitely sounds like that.
“Krrrråka!” yes yes, these would pass for Swedish Kråkas.
“Krrrrähe!” quite right, the German Mr. Grey Jacket would probably understand it’s English or Swedish cousins.

…but these are Finnish crows and no matter how hard I try to pull a muscle in my brain, it still doesn’t sound like “Varis!” at all, it sounds like “Krr…” followed by the variable national alphabets above.

“What is it with you, you Snobby Finnish Crows?”

“Kraak!”.

I get the feeling that they didn’t understand the question.

The Noah of the Ants...Who Forgot to Build the damn Ark

Here I am, walking in the streets of Helsinki E, minding my own and just spitting in the wind.

It was raining hard just a few minutes ago, the time which I spent…in the pouring rain, I don’t wanna talk about it:).

Anyway, puddles here, puddles there, puddles everywhere and I somehow find it highly important to declare myself "The Noah of the Ants…Who Forgot to Build the Damn Ark!"

“Stop being so negative, man! Ants are very good swimmers are they not?”
Hmmm, either they are chilling…or then they have sort of, you know, drowned:).
Seemingly I’m not very good at this Noah-stuff.

Five meters ahead of me, there is this sweet old lady walking, probably minding her own like me and just spitting in the wind too...somehow this doesn't quite fit:).
There’s a huuuge puddle on the right, five meters right…here comes the car…and here comes the "SPLASH!!"

The sweet old lady is now a WET sweet old lady…and screams out: “PERKELE!!!”
Tell me, what is more funny than a sweet old lady getting puddle-splashed by a car and afterwards screaming out for the Anti-Christ!

I couldn’t think of anything.

Bottle-Returning-Machine

”Inserting a bottle, inserting a bottle, inserting a bottle…”
Goddamn it PT, not so fast, they can’t handle your bottle inserting skills!

“Inserting a bottle, inserting a bo…” “UAA-UAA-UAA” sounds the alarm! Oh great, now the machine broke down!
“What did I just tell you, you imbecile?” asks Mr. Richard Head…inside my head obviously.

On my right, there is another bottle-returning-machine, I don’t know the English word for this-> so it’s a bottle-returning-machine:).

Anyway, on my right, there is another dude “Inserting a bottle, inserting a bottle, inserting a bottle…”
Goddamn it Another Dude, not so fast, they can’t handle your bottle returning skills!

“Inserting a bottle, inserting a bo…” “UAA-UAA-UAA”.

I guess his name is Richard too.

Never Mess with Another Bird's Piece of Bread or He'll Kick You in the Nuts

”Oh you little…” the damn crow just grabbed my perfectly nice piece of stale bread directly from my mouth->time to kick some ass!

“Seagull 1, Seagull 1, you have been cleared for take-off”.

The game begins.
Where’s that little gray piece of s**t?
“There, gotcha!”

My plan is to go up, wayyyy up and strike from above, the fool will never know what hit him!

Here I go, assaulting now with only one thing on my mind: Tom Cruise!

“What the…oh you wanna piece of me seagull, huh?! Bring it on man! Bring it on!”
“I’ll kick you in the nuts man!” There you have it! And there! And there!
“Awww, my nuts!”
“Give up the bread man!”
“No way José!”
“I’ll kick you in the nuts man!”
“Awww, my nuts!”

The bread is mine, all mine. I’ll enjoy it on this nearest rooftop here.

Across the street there is this guy smoking a cigarette on a balcony, hopefully he is not a blogger or anything…

Seagulls.

“Goddamn it PT, do you know what time it is?!”
The sun is about to come up and you really really should go to bed already!
I went.
10 minutes…nothing, 20 minutes…pretty much the same.
Here comes the sun.
And here come the Seagulls.
“SEA-GULL!”, SEE-GULLLL”, they scream, over and over again, every now and then taking a pause to laugh at me with the same “Seagullish”-voice!
“Oh, Come on Seagulls, what’s up with that!?”
“We are Seagulls Mr. Loren, Mr. high and mighty PT Loren, this is what we do!”
“Well, could you do it somewhere else?”
“We are SEA-GULLLLLS!”

The Hedgehog 2.

I step out of the bus. This is quite late.
"Rigate, Penne Rigate" introduces himself the hedgehog on the ground and asks me to follow.
Awfully stuffy in here, don't you think Mr. Rigate?
Oh you want me to follow you into the bushes Mr. Rigate?
Ok, let's go, I find myself answering even though I know it's not the best of ideas to go head first into the bushes like that at this hour.
Where are you Mr. Rigate?
Mr. Rigate taps me on my Shoulder and offers a high-5, which I gladly accept, my big hand against the tiny hand of Mr. Rigate's, "Slap!".
Mr. Rigate's hand is only about 1cm x 1cm, so this is a cool moment.
"Oh you must be Mrs. Rigate? Nice to meet you!"
Mrs. Rigate somehow has some reservations towards me since Mr. Rigate and I are coming home this late. I won't go there, that's between Mr. Rigate and Mrs. Rigate.
Mr. Rigate owns a couch, we'll be sleeping there:).