Damn civilians. Ain't good to nothing.

Heh. Monday morning, eh? Well, I didn’t get to work before the morning was practically over. Or, it’s a question of definiton, rather. I mean, for some of us, for people like me, the free-minded and unworried, the morning might last till 2 p.m. In that sense I got to work early. At least it was before lunch.

I’ve just come to the realization that I can make crack-jokes about civilians. Yup. "Damn, I really dislike them civilians. They just walk around with their fancy titles thinking they’re something, while they’ve never shed a thought to this beautiful country of ours that someone has got to protect. Yeah. Civilians, huh? God damn civilans!"

Because I am theoretically wearing the King’s clothes. According to Norwegian laws, that is. Practically, however, I’m wearing my own. The King’s clothes would be too baggy for me. I’m too lean.

So, just watch out people. Until the 15th of March when I’m a free man again, returning to the world and getting out of this crazy shit (Oh, yes, I’ll talk about this at least till I’m eighty:) you might just want to keep up with my jokes about civilians. You’ve got to take it, peeps.

’cause I’m gonna enjoy it like a bucket of bacon.