I was born 17/08/78 in Stavanger, Norway, but my family moved shortly after my birth to Porsgrunn, Norway, where I spend the most of my prepubescent years in supreme suburban solace. In that all-too-brief period between the first independant thoughts and the first premature ejaculation, I also found the time to spend two years in Lillehammer, Norway, a town which you no doubt became familiar with during the 1994 Winter Olympics. Yes, I was there. Hurray for me.
Triumphant, I returned to my humble beginnings in Telemark, where I did my allocated time of detention (High School, I've heard it referred to as). Nah, I'm kidding. It was rather pleasant, actually. At least for the pupils. I have this nagging feeling that the tutors were not too pleased with the mental endeavours of me and my peers.
Apres the strictly mandatory school years, I opted for.....more school. This time in Freiburg, Germany, which required me to learn German, a subject I had previously flunked with the grace and glory of a raped sheep. In hindsight, I think it was fate's way of tapping me on the shoulder, telling me gently 'I've got your balls in a vice, son.' The irony of fate was not lost upon me. However, I worked through my shortcomings, and Germany proved to be entirely to my satisfaction. By satisfaction, I do mean my craving for premium grade etanol. And the beer was even better. Kids, a brief excurse; If the beer is not German, Czech or French, then drink with care. An exception here is british beer. Proper British beer should have the consistancy of motor oil, and a slightly less repugnant bouquet. This beverage is popularly known as 'ale'. Lager is NOT proper beer. 'nuff said. Now back to your normal broadcast.
Come '98, I found myself enlisted in the mandatory norwegian military service, a destiny which I had awaited with gruel. All in all, the duty as audio/video-cum-copyshop-technician in the Royal Norwegian Naval Academy was not all bad, and it left me none the worse for wear. Now, I can't really say that I learned anything during that year, either, but at least I gained a lot of new drinking legends.
The Fall of 1999 sees me working with Visual Basic and OBDC-programming in Grenoble, France, a city where I also waste away the two sucessive years, trying futilely to get an engineering degree. No good. The mysteries of the french language simply cannot be penetrated, a trait which it shares with the local mademoiselles. Thus, Fall'01, I pack my bags and retrace my steps back to Freiburg.
At the time of this writing (Spring'02), I'm currently occupied in the IT-department of EFD, doing mostly network maintenance and BASH scripting on HP-UX, unless some analytically challenged peon wants me to do things to his/hers machine which he/she is not capable of him/herself. This includes simple things such as -turning pc off and on again, save in DIFFERENT formats than F-u-C-Roy Office normally does... *brief pause of extended frothing*
I swear, if another user calls me and asks me what to do with that fucking blue screen, I'll.... I'll force him to install Slackware Linux by himself... On Floppies. With native Samba support. And anti-aliasing in X. I reckon that should give me some months, give or take an eon. At least it's not a permanent career choice.
This upcoming summer, it's back to Porsgrunn to recommence my ongoing excursion in formal education, and hopefully I'll get that cursed engineering degree there. If not, then ... *sigh*
Well, there is always the option of a career in hardcore pornography.
There is that.