Head In My Bag

The Wednesday that kinda didn't happen

2012-02-23T14:49:00.000-08:00

Everyone knows that what you can't remember didn't happen. It's a fact. Kinda like the cake that no one see you eating is no cake. It is known. So, technically last night didn't happen. Or half of it anyway. I actually recall ending the night trying to get cash for the taxi, failing, being really really upset to the point of screaming and hitting things, trying another machine, succeeding and getting way too much cash then finally giving almost all of it to the very rude driver. I think it came up to about double the normal cost. But then I also live comfortably in my world of denial, it works almost as good as actual memory loss. So yeah, that didn't happen. What also did not happen was half of the things I said to people I don't know. The words "No, I say horses are just cows with long legs!!!!!" didn't come from my mouth. No sir. Neither did my not so charming lie of being a heroin addict. So. I'm fine! Woke up with my alarm in my hands, two hours late for work. For some reason I had to eat painkillers for lunch.

There's classy, then there's me

2012-02-20T15:28:00.002-08:00

Dear, dear fans/readers/friends/celebs.
Yes, yes. Easy now. There will be heads in bags yet again, but do try to contain your excitement for just a few moments and I will tell you about the amazing weekend-adventures of me and my bag.

In an almost religious manner I have carried The Bag around the town of Stockholm, just waiting for that moment. Oh that right and true moment when someone at a game-awards night, with an actual free bar(!), ask The Question. Those magical few words. Innocent as they might be when formed in the mind of the normal person, once spoken they ignite the very air like a smoldering cigarette in a cistern of glyceryltrinitrat, propyl-1,2,3-trinitrat, C₃H₅(NO₃)₃ _.Ah, and then the look in their eye when it dawns on them that that question, that seemed so ordinary at first, is in fact like a tiny snow-ball growing into a life threatening and glorious avalanche.

"so... do you have a blog?"

A smug and slightly evil smile appeared then in my otherwise blank and expressionless face. And what followed is documented below, the way it is supposed to be.

Me and my bag also discovered what we now have come to call the "Fireball-effect". Apparently, when you carry a bottle of Fireball with you to a club and drink it shamelessly straight from the bottle on the dance floor for everyone to see, and the bouncer walks up to you and says "HEY, where'd ya get that bottle from.." the reply of "it's OK" combined with a slightly cross-eyed look, an annoyed glance and absolutely no smiles is received with acceptance.

The underworld appeal

2012-02-05T14:20:00.000-08:00

So, I know I have mentioned stealing before here on the blog. Yes, yes I completely admit to stealing things. "Things" almost always being flowers. I steal flowers. Sometimes it turns into a failed attempt of stealing flowers and I then end up stealing only leaves, grass och perhaps a branch of a tree. At the time, in the elevated state of too much rum, stealing flowers seems a challenging thing, exiting, living life on the edge. Clearly this is just all in my head, and I get no respect from anyone in my presence. You could argue that instead of respect I get the opposite. When suggesting a raid through peoples gardens people tend to look at me with narrowed eyes, slowly backing away from me, saying things along the lines of "ok, I.. ehm... got to go!?"

Last Friday the usual suspects at Fatshark ventured the far distance of 20m to Slakthuset. Actually, I just realized it has become the new "Legion". I find myself there, in the queue to the cash point inside the club, not even knowing how I got there in the first place, yet smiling and jumping, slightly cross-eyed. Just like any normal person would on a Friday night, I tell myself.

THIS Friday, something in my attitude changed. Instead of the usual smiles mixed with guttural noises, happy noises despite being unintelligible, I turned. I went evil! Sure it was a happy-evil but I actually went aggressive at a few points during the evening. The night ended in a mess of people gathered on the rug, smoking a broken-duck-taped-shisha tasting of fallout and glue, the usual way. But this time with an added layer of verbal abuse and foul-mouthing. BY ME! And on top of that, in the morning when we decide to make a glorious breakfast and ignore what happened the previous night, I pick up this thing lying on the floor. Its a shirt, knit-wear, dark blue. I ask who's it is, when it dawns on us that it belongs to no-one we know and we actually managed to steal it. I must add we didn't MEAN t steal it. I think. At least I have no memory of wanting to steal it. If anyone present at Slakthuset last Friday is missing clothing, you may contact me so I can return it and try move away from this dark path down the criminal drain. Next thing you know I might be forcing death pills and gun-barrels on people instead of bags.

"We WILL force the Polish to play..."

2012-01-30T12:55:00.000-08:00

Monday. Here I am. Indulging in a sad and familiar chemical comedown still lingering from the three days past after-work beer that ended in the usual drunken haze of taxis and underground events. Yes three days past. It's too long ago to expect any kind of sympathy. Well, not that I at any time after this said Friday expected sympathy, especially not from the people I exposed my drunken self too. The drunken-me, oh that horrible nemesis of mine, talking too much and too loud. You'd think a woman of my age would know better!? Anyway. Normally a hangover would pass within a day. But not this time. No, this time I fall head first down escalators on the following Sunday(!) afternoon to shortly after fall asleep at the table at Sunday dinner with my Gran. She's going on 95 this year, yet I sat there envying her and her relentless energy. I hate cliche sayings and quotes but "the youth is wasted on the young" have never been more true.

So just now I arrive home after a day at work, wondering if I maybe should take the window exit to rid the world of another useless waste of oxygen, and suddenly I feel a bit better. Just as my irrational self loathing and pathetic hangover depression is about to leave room for some creativity and constructive thoughts, I make the worst mistake. I decide to look through the pictures. The pictures are not that bad actually... sure, a bit blurry but the lighting was bad and my camera IS a bit dodgy sometimes... surely it wasn't JUST me being drunk. Surely. But then I see the video. THE VIDEO. Man. How on EARTH could my judgement be SO BAD that I actually recorded video of this... mayhem! Why couldn't I just let it be a distant memory, left in the back of my mind to fade with the rest of my nightmarish fragmented images of how I actually act as drunk.

At first I thought it was OK, people seem almost normal. Like slightly tipsy, sure. But not more than usual. Then I realize that shrill, annoying voice babbling incoherently in the background, was me. And from the noise I manage to distinguish the line ..."we WILL force the Polish to play..." whilst I from behind the camera point a wooden sword into the stomach of a poor undeserving colleague. I then decided I had seen enough. Not only did I have no recollection of the event or what I was actually talking about, who was Polish and why they had to play, I had plunged right back into the misery I was about to emerge from. So now I sit here. And my only comfort is that I can, potentially, move country. And/or do a "Britney" and shave my head. I somehow doubt it will help. I do however have heads in bags for you.

They thought they came from Japan

2012-01-21T11:48:00.000-08:00

But they, clearly, didn't. Though you almost presumed they did not come from Stockholm, judging by how they acted. Animals they were, vultures even. Maybe they really believed they were in Japan, or FROM japan. They acted like people do when they know they are in a place they will never return to. Obscene, vulgar and yes, DRUNK. Above all, drunk. So drunk the pure motor skills of lifting a bag over someones head was reduced to lifting a glass to ones mouth. The Bag, however, did not get to enjoy the sparkling juices of France's most overestimated wine district. It barely heard the ringing of glasses as they violently smashed together in guttural, wordless squalls. Neither did it savor even a sip of the almost weightless spirit of Vodka, so desired by all it barely touched the table before it was gone. No, unfair as the world is it instead suffered a weight of approximately 10 winter coats as it sat in the guarded sofa and waited. Yes the sofa was guarded. It has its own guard. The Sofa Guard. He looked unhappy. Looking back I wonder if he really loves his job or if he does it for that shiny guard-pin he gets to wear.

During the evening's early hours, a certain someone DID manage to put his head in the bag. I am desperately trying to trace this person and have spent long hours doing so this weekend. Normally I don't care about the identity of the bag-heads. It is kindof the point even, to NOT know. But this one is special. I have strong beliefs and grounded suspicions that this very person might be Lady Gaga. If the rumors are true I have to send her a letter and ask that she stays away from our parties from now forth. I've never liked her. Plus, she steals way too much attention. cough*hore*cough.

Lady... Gaga? Is it you?

He might not be an actual Ninja, but he sure knows the Ninja-pose.

I have no... words.

Animals. Truly appalling.

Its funny, really. I almost got there in the end. How ironic.

It starts again like it started once

2012-01-08T16:21:00.000-08:00

The time has come.

Long have the people been left in despair. They have wandered through their meaningless lives in a void of uncertainty and doubt. Will life ever be as glorious as then? Will the time that has been promised ever arrive? I know, because I too have been left there. Is has been limbo, only a mere shadow of what life should be like, never knowing when this veil of darkness is to be lifted from our eyes. But hope prevails, and as long as is does there will be a spark. From this spark my friends, a fire will start. Slowly at first, but steady growing until it consumes our world once more. That fire is now lit, and soon the light can be seen even in the darkest corners on the interwebs.

Head in my bag -is back.

As you all know this all started at a Christmas party. As a real and true atheist I don't spend any time caring for sweet baby Jesus. Though, y'all have to admit Christmas is special. Maybe, just maybe, things DO start to sparkle and jingle bells can be heard in the distance all American coke commercial-esqe. Maybe magic do exist around Christmas. Well, magic or no magic Head in my bag came back to life again at it's 2year anniversary.

If I had a say in the end of Milo it would have involved a virus and then followed by a f-ing epic gameplay of turning innocent people in to zombies with kinect. However sadly, I did not have a say in it. My involvement in his fate and my time at LH came to an end shortly after the cake war. My move from LH back to the Swedish game developer scene did... mess things up with the blog. At first it was all about time. I simply did not have it. I let it slip out of my hands, lecturing animation at Futuregames and then joining the Fatshark team. I got too excited about our games, Krater and War of the Roses. Eventually, when enough time had passed, I even.... god I feel so embarrassed admitting this, but I guess its a first step... I need to be true to myself... and to YOU, dear fans/celebs/readers... ok here is goes... I got a new bag. Yes. I did that. I am a horrible human being. I replaced THE bag with another one. It was yellow. And then I went to Japan, and I got ANOTHER one. A blue. It was like I had lost it, the will to live and my self respect. I kept getting new bags, and using them as well. Leaving my one special bag to sit on a shelf at home, all alone, staring in to the hallway of a suburban rental flat south of Knifsöder. But you see, I have come to an insight now. I know. I know what I had to do, and I did it. I begged and pleaded for forgiveness, I washed it, and I gave it flowers. I brought it out for a night on the town and introduced it to my new work colleagues and friends. And then it was like nothing had happened, like time had stood still. We found each other again, and we above all found our true purpose.

Heads. Bags. Bosh.

CAKE WAR!

2010-09-20T06:21:00.000-07:00

Monday the 20th of September, the day of the epic Lionhead Cake War.

The battle was long and hard. Since everyone suffers from cake OD/cardiac arrest some form of truce has settled amongst the two floors. Both kitchens look like true battlegrounds and only pictures now remains from the glorious sugary cupcake artillery and layered cake cavalry. To all of you who baked, you are TRUE HEROES!

WAR

2010-09-08T06:57:00.000-07:00

Hereby I, sir Maddy Bakealot du Cake, declare a Cake WAR on Fable floor. The battle will be taking place in each floor's kitchen on the morn of

MONDAY THE 20th of SEPTEMBER 2010.

I request help from all able fellow team Milo members. Stand and Bake for your Floor, Honour and everlasting Glory!

Be warned all ye who stand against the Knights of the CakeTable. My loyal ally Princess Anne, lady of the Cake, and promising Squire Oliver Marzipanival du Bon Bon will be baking by my side, along with King Crumpet and many, many more.

Silver lining

2010-09-07T10:52:00.000-07:00

My dear, dear fans/readers/followers/friends/celebs. I know words are useless but my conscience does not allow me to continue without an apology, however feeble it might be.

I am so truly and deeply sorry. Really I am. This can NOT continue, this absence of posts. This unforgivable lack of as you might see it, devotion, to the great and heavenly cause of this blog.

It is a long shot but maybe I can console you somewhat in your despair by stating my actions and reasons for not posting the last couple weeks. I'm alive and still have most of my limbs so no, the reasons are perhaps not fully legit. Alas I am only human (I think).

After the partial success of the Swedish week, I came back to Britain. Now I say partial success not because of what happened/ did not happen but rather because of the weather. I thought I could sneak in on the "tropical heat wave" that hit Stockholm this summer but instead I missed it and had to make do with the aftermath. Rain, that is. No beach 2010 for me it seems.

Now, one could think I would spend the following weekend in bed, recovering from the last night out in Stockholm. Yes I would say for certain that any NORMAL person would consider a night where partying went on to about 7.30 in the morning, one person (Johannes Wadin to mention names) ended up in hospital and another passing out in the bathroom, is more than enough to deserve a weekend of rest. NEJ I tell you. Nej. Warrington and a field of cream awaited me and fellow brave Swedes Miss Hjort, Chilli Squid and Marika Overpepp.
One word people. one word.

LASER!

So, what about the bag you say? Well sadly, the bag did not enter Creamfields. It did not get searched by muscled guards or thrown around on a dance floor in a tent. It did not experience "Keith" and his forceful amphetamine elbow embrace. It did not get soiled on the floor of the festival loos or get dragged back to the blue-led glowing bar of hotel Vilaggio. It looked a bit sad when I came home, but knowing my bag it wouldn’t have liked it. Not at all.

Now, to cheer you up I have an announcement to make. It is time. You, dear readers, are being privileged with a sneak peak of tomorrow’s headlines. From tomorrow, Wednesday the 8th of September 2010, Milo floor declare CAKE WAR on fable. Time and place of the Cake Off will follow shortly, but I assure you it’s in a near enough future to be stressed about it and still have time to plan and bake. Oh yes. Plan and bake.

I will also make a (perhaps empty and pointless) promise of more heads in bags next weekend. you see, there is another war I have declared recently. The war on my liver and sanity. Yes it is time for ANOTHER festival. This one is a 4 day, THEMED, festival. Bestival people, BESTIVAL. Look out for a Cat-Samurai-Reject Superhero. Eh. I mean It not ME, maybe just someone that looks a bit like me. But it isn’t. Because I'm not that retarded. Yeah.

Heading to the Knif-South

2010-08-26T08:11:00.000-07:00

I dont often find myself outside the comfort of, as we natives lovingly call it, Ofhre. However, me and Rob ventured in to the darkest corners of Stockholms Underworld. And what did we find? HERR UGGLA and Friends. Huh! Who'dathunk!

Stockholm is

2010-08-26T06:02:00.000-07:00

Quite frankly the best city in the world, this time of year.

...ITS ABOUT PARTIES.

2010-08-10T05:41:00.000-07:00

Party. Every Friday. Now, and forever. OBEY!

.....aaaaaaaand as a little treat I give you the Milo floor pet, OLI!

Head In My Book

2010-08-03T10:46:00.000-07:00

Once again.
Lack of bag resulted in a creative session of finding something else to put heads in. The winning contribution came from miss Hjort (doh) and once suggested it was obvious that no better replacement was to be found than a Book. Let yourself be bedazzled by the splendour of the once in a lifetime special edition of HEAD IN MY BOOK!

Summer and Rain

2010-08-03T05:50:00.000-07:00

Head In My Bag-In-Box

2010-07-25T04:10:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, when a girl tries to save that little extra money by traveling with Ryanair and therefore can't take her handbag with her because of the bagage restrictions, a girl is stupid.

But hey, who needs intelligence anyway? Rose wine and imagination, thats what you really want.

Maybe not something that I'll do every weekend, but you know, think it came out pretty well considering. The extra silver lining of the evening was getting ID'd at debaser. I think, I think that means I look young and pretty. Yeah.

Dear Satan

2010-07-23T05:38:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure but I think this is your doing? If not, then I do apologize beforehand, I rather just go straight to you since I don’t reeeeeally get along with the Other guy. Me being an atheist an all, you understand I'm sure.

So, I'm pretty new to all this and I'm uncertain to how it works. I mean I took religion in school (even got a pretty good grade, not to brag or anything) and I'm just guessing here but you seem to be the opposite of "Him". So I know I haven’t always been good and I suppose that’s the kind of thing you'd approve of? Anyway. This, the unfortunate "deed" that happened yesterday, is it punishment? And what for in that case? Haven't I been bad enough for your taste? Maybe things are just working out a bit too well for me? It just occurred to me that this might even be some sort of reward according to your standards. Like, when your cat brings you a dead, headless mouse to your bedside. Have I been too bad perhaps? I.. I just don't understand.

Anyways, just to let you know I'm not very happy about this. And I mean that as in a not good-not happy way. Uhm, how should I explain this, kinda like when something good and nice happens to you? You understand? I would be terribly grateful if you'd just undo this and give me my old hair colour back. I can even do some really bad stuff, just to make you happy? Like... hmmm... oh, oh! I can sin! I can eat loads of ice cream! Like in Gluttony, right? I might even go so far as to do some Greed and Sloth. But pleeeeeease, pretty pretty please with a cherry on the top just remove this emo-Melon hair colour will you?

Thanks in advance

ps. I really hope you understand, its just not "me". Besides, even you should know that its kindof not the 90's anymore. Black is, like, so out.

Maddy

tap dance tap dance tap dance (lap dance?)

2010-07-22T09:46:00.000-07:00

Today, my dear readers, there are no Emo Melons in sight. No today is a happy day. (A Watermelon Night!?) I'm thrilled, delighted, enthralled, intoxicated, and excited - all at once! And why is that, you ask?

I'll tell you why. Because around this time tomorrow I'll be suffering through the ninth circle of hell that is the Ryanair flight to STOCKHOLM. yes. STOCKHOLM! Well, its Skavsta really, but you know. Ryanair calls it Stockholm so right now so do I.

And it gets better. Not only am I going home, this time I'm staying for... sit down and be prepared for the shock... 10 DAYS! TEN. DAYS. Its holiday good people, holiday. Simestoooor!

Be. Jealous.

Something Phenomenal

2010-07-20T10:14:00.000-07:00

So. I looked through the pictures from this weekend and realized some of a certain someone were just too good to deserve the fate of fading in to the vast ocean of meaningless heads in bags. Yes, they deserve their own post. So here he is. Ladies and gents, I hereby present to you the great, amazing, phenomenal, glorious, everyothergoodsuperlativethereis- STEPHEN BROADLEY!

Oh yes, sir. I can boogie.

2010-07-19T06:00:00.000-07:00

As last week was nearing its end I felt a bit tired. Working a couple extra hours on the evenings, my quick but intense weekend trip to Stockholm and just a general slight stress have deprived me of sleep and peace of mind. I was certain this weekend would be one of those calm, relaxed weekends. The ones where you do "nice" things. And save money. And rest. The kind of weekend I just never have.

On Friday afternoon, all it took was a chat with Rob, a quick listen to Rex The Dog, a stop by Tescos to purchase a bottle of Captain Morgan and there I was. The Legion. Prancing around like some sort of epileptic animal in my shiny silver boots. Literally forcing shots of Sambucca down my poor friends throats.

Yes, and not to mention the forcing of my bag on to random people's heads. I noticed this time that I dont even bother explaining anymore. I used to have this whole repertoire. Yes, I used to ask!

I used to.

I hang out with this person. Yes, I do. I admit to this simply because I hope it will explain some of my own perhaps not entirely normal behaviour. Whatever's wrong with him I think, I think its contagious.

its FRIDAY and the Party Cat says...

2010-07-16T05:13:00.000-07:00

Wacom Tuesday

2010-07-14T04:58:00.000-07:00

Emo Melon day

2010-07-07T05:35:00.000-07:00

Yeah I'm having one of those today. Can’t really say it’s a bad day, it’s just.... not good? I’ve been pretty productive but still can’t shake the feeling I’m behind schedule. Which I'm not! But you know. The haunting stress in the back of my mind. I think it will turn out to be a good day but right now I find the word "fuck" perhaps a bit too accurate to describe almost everything. Fucking emails with lolcats. Fucking weather. Fucking contacts are hurting because of the fucking aircon. You see? I could just go on for hours.

I think my main problem right now is time. So I'm 25, young and all that jazz, I know. But fuck (yeah there I go again) there's so much to do! There's like 50 different professions I'd like to try. I got a lovely family that I don’t see enough of. I got too many friends I love and don’t have time to appreciate the way they deserve. I have a great life in Stockholm and another one here in the UK, but somehow rather than enjoying the benefit of two amazing lives I always end up feeling torn.

So, yeah Emo Melon. I should really be grateful for all of these things I right now so selfishly complain about. At least I know it. Rant rant rant. I'm gonna go back to my classical music and reading about Mesopotamia as it’s my new lunch-hobby.

Here you go fellow emo melons. Some cheer-me-up communicator conversations about the chinese "Haw flakes" that SOMEONE brought in to work.

And THEN humanity decided to create...

2010-07-05T10:44:00.000-07:00

...this!?

"8 Ultra Rare Magical Pink Puppies to Collect"?

Really?

No. We certainly don't deserve to prevail as a race.

Yeah so notice Satan, just above the green slime dog from hell.

DAMN YOU biscuits!

2010-06-30T11:36:00.000-07:00

Horrible horrible horrilbe workplace this. Biscuits all the frakkin time (see what I did there? Yeah Battlestar, YEAH).

Here I am. Animating away on Milo. Just minding my own little business, listening to minimal techno at a volume bordering to painful to block out the constant buzz of people and loud machines. Blissfully ignorant of the sugary death in the kitchen. I decided early on that my motto this week was going to be "if I'm not bringing cake in to work, there is NO CAKE". And I'm not going to bring any cake. No no mister. No my healthy life is waiting. It’s, like, RIGHT THERE. Waiting. I had a salad for lunch you see. Salad. With tomatoes and everything.

So here the deal. I’m back in lovely (shit) Guildford again. As miss Hjort so sensibly pointed out, Guildford is a bit like the English version of "Flen". Well not really but now she said it I just can’t get it out of my mind. Days like this, Guildford IS Flen.

Midsummer was really good. And when I say really good I mean R to the E to the A to the L to the L to the Y to the GOOD. You get the point. So fucking good I found myself standing in the Milo kitchen Monday morning waving my arms around loudly proclaiming " there is NOTHING like Swedish summers people. NOTHING", almost desperately forcing pictures of "nyckelharpor" and blond girls with flower wreaths in their hair on to my dear animation colleagues. I do apologize btw. Back to my point. Midsummer and Sweden was so. bloody. good. But now I'm left with an empty echo of all the glorious fun, lingering in my mind like a three day hangover.. wait. that could be what it is... well never mind. I am now nothing more than the grey translucent shadow of a human. Staring out the god damn window and thinking about seagulls. Yes, fucking seagulls! And I HATE birds. They're nothing but rats with wings. Dammit. Why would I want to think about rats with wings!?

Once again back to the point. In my complete and utter misery I have decided to dedicate my week to "beach 2010" in the fatal attempt to feel better about myself. So no biscuits, no cake and no ice cream. I am however only human and when the Pirate (Gary the producer) offered me an ice cream yesterday I said yes. But no, today was going to be a good day. A better day. A day when I was good. Then there was the email. Biscuits. FUCKING BISCUITS. Yeah so someone's been to Italy and brought good stuff for everyone. How fucking lovely. And there goes yet another day when I was supposed to be good. Is there any point in even trying? HUH?

Ok I’m gonna stop now. Here's a lil' something for you head in bag-fans btw. And no, I would never ever fake a photo. Never! Jesus, people. Where's the trust.

In a garden we stood

2010-06-16T05:44:00.000-07:00

First at the Whitehouse, then Fahrenheit and finally at Steve's. The morning after we didn't stand in a garden. We sat.

Herr Uggla and Tatters know the pose. They have known the pose for ages. Like, they ARE the pose.

"...have you even had three in your bag?..."

I have now.

Gay-Love-in-my-bag. I like it.

"..I think you have too many locks..."

"SHUT UP"

Mad Ha... Tatters?

2010-06-15T02:16:00.000-07:00

A meal. An evening walk. A camera. A cat.

2010-06-04T06:54:00.000-07:00

Yesterday Rob took me out for a nice meal. God I can't even remember the last time anyone did that! I mean, I love cooking and all that but it’s just nice to...relax completely. Well, it does happen that I agree on letting someone cook for me but somehow I end up forcefully bending the kitchen utensils from their hands and pushing them away from the stove. This, this was great.

So. We decided to go for a meal in Cambridge. Yeah. Uhm. Only a smaller roadtrip! 2 hours in the car, but you know, absolutely gorgeous views and a COUPLE good records made the trip quite pleasant. My singing might not have been so pleasant when I come to think of it. Oh well.

So we went checking up on Rob's cute flat, out for wonderful food then finally spending a good couple hours walking around Cambridge sneaking in to colleges and admiring the dimly lit gardens. Perfect Thursday!

Haku and Mei (mostly Haku) kept me company during early morning. It felt kind of nice to be accompanied by a cat now when I miss Jiji so much.

Satan? Is it you?

Yeah so I didn't really understand the shutter. I mean the camera. Yeah I didnt understand the camera. I'm not very clever.

Jiji cat Jiji cat jiji cat cat.

2010-06-01T08:37:00.000-07:00

Today is a sad day in the life of me and my bag. This morning I got an email with a horrifying subject. Three words burned through the usual stream of script changes, camera fixes and DVDsales spam.

"Jiji is dead"

And so it is. The best cat in the world is no more. He deserved more than the few years he got, and he sure deserved a better end. I'm too upset and sad to go in on any details now, but he was found in the basement of his own house. Tragic is not a strong enough word to describe it. As always in situations like this I feel som kind of blame, and anger. For not beeing there I suppose.

Rest in peace Jiji katt. You will always be remembered.

MARIO PARTY

2010-05-26T10:43:00.000-07:00

Annes Mario Party -hen night. So. This is how it went.

1. Friday. Anne receives a pink box at work on the morning of Friday the 21st of May. Attached to the pink (and may I add AMAZING) box is a letter addressed to Princess P. The envelope reads "Do not open until the morning of Saturday, 22nd of May".

2. Saturday. Anne opens the box, containing a wonderful princess Peach outfit and a letter from Toad inviting her to a Mario Party at the Guildford Castle at 16.00.

3. At the Castle. Peach arrives dressed in her glorious outfit only to find Toad sat there crying with a black eye. He explains to her that Bowser (who, as always, is up to no good again) came and kidnapped everyone. Peach and Toad are the only ones left! They need to rescue the others but need help, therefore they first have to find and recruit people for their rescue party. Since everyone is kidnapped they have no choice but to ask some of Bowsers own minions. Toad has a map that might lead them to a Chain Chomp, Waluigi and Petey Pirahna. Toad hands Peach her ultimate weapon (an umbrella) and her Peach's Punch (archers, doh)

4. The Graveyard. At the graveyard they find Chain Chomp looking a bit troubled. He says he needs a fire flower but doesnt dare to enter the graveyard and look for the one hidden there because of the Boo's. Peach agrees to help. There is a "?"box far down on the graveyard that contains a map to where the flower is hidden. But Peach has to be careful for when she turns her back on the Boo's they move towards her! After handing Chain Chomp the Fire Flower he promises to help.

5. The Park. Peach and Toad are off to a little park nearby where they find Waluigi resting under a couple "?"boxes. He says he'll help but only if she can get him a 1up Mushroom. He knows where to get one, but she will need at least one Mario Coin. Peach finds a coin the one of the "?"boxes and runs off towards the High Street and the Party Shop. Toad and Peach can see the 1up mushroom in the shop window, the exchange of coin-mushroom is made and then the duo returns to the park and Waluigi. He promise to help and now they only need one more for the rescue mission.

6. Petey in Peril. Waluigi claims he heard Petey Piranha scream for help somewhere further down the street and off they go again. Petey Piranha is scared halfway up a tree by two Shy Guys circling round it. Petey screams to Peach that she must hit them on the bum and without hesitation she throws herself into the fight. The Peach's Punch did wonders and she handled the two Shy Guys flawlessly (beat them to death with her pink umbrella, that is)

7. Bowser's Lair. Petey tells Peach that they probably should gather somewhere safe and plan the attack on Bowsers lair. Toad Petey and Peach then travels all the way up a long hill to the little secret gate in the hedge. They enter and walk along a small path only to find... Bowser? No. THE MARIO PARTY PICKNICK!

Mario Party 0.9 The End is Nigh

2010-05-26T09:51:00.000-07:00

Nearing the end of the "making of" but even more so nearing the night of the actual Mario Party! Anne is still oblivious to what we will put her through. Moah... moahhhahaha...MOAHAHAHA!

I tried to tell him it wasn't for him... But he just wouldn't listen!! Look at that face, thats pure happiness people. PURE. HAPPINESS.

Mario Party 0.5 The Mushroom Kingdom Mess

2010-05-26T09:41:00.000-07:00

After a couple days my flat started to look like a post nuclear version of the Mushroom Kingdom. A step in the right direction. I think.

Mario Party 0.1 Once upon a time...

2010-05-26T09:32:00.000-07:00

...In a small flat in Guildford there where cardboard boxes, chicken wire, wallpaper glue, paint, old newspapers, a retarded sewing machine, pink fabric, wasabi peas and a couple very "special" people.

Oh Laura.

2010-05-26T07:29:00.000-07:00

I'm forever grateful for my endless supply of fans. If it wasn’t for my fans I would have animated my way through yet another day without updating my otherwise forgotten corner of the Internet. Here's for you Laura, my no1 fan (and no, I don’t mean the kind of fan that hangs from a ceiling. And blows air. You're so much more than that!)

Yeah so once again I fail with the updates. But you see soo much has happened in the last couple weeks! I did promise the frequent build up for Cake Wars but now Oli's off on a one month undeserved (and not to mention UNPAID. There. In yo face! Snap!) vacation it will just have to wait. Excuses excuses. To follow this brief but colourful revisit of the Heads will be a massive one that perhaps serve as a part of an explanation towards why I’ve been too busy to update. Yes some of you might know what I'm talking about. The oh so splendid, gorgeous, wonderful and adventurous MARIO PARTY-hen night dedicated to our favourite princess Anne "Peach" Parkkali.

But now:

HEADS. IN. BAGS.

Bag-rape. Never gets old.

So I drew him a picture to explain what this is about. I guess he's just to primitive for pictures. Cognitive Behavioral Therapy by using strong violence and starvation? Might work... just might work.

Everyone loves Frida. Man in pants LOVES Frida. I'm not sure he loves Johannes.

I know they're not edited "and all that jaaaaeessch", like the jazz-lady would have put it, but it will just have to do for now. The raw unflattering truth of my camera.

The return of the Heads

2010-04-19T11:22:00.000-07:00

Yeah I know, I deliver. With "besked".
Do I have to say it? No. Maybe not. I don't have to tell you where we ended up on Friday. So I'm not going to. On Saturday however I dressed up in my finest geeky glasses to bring stolen goods (you know its flowers) and rum for lovely Elaine’s birthday drinks. I think I left at some point and got replaced by some drunken misbehaving impostor. Most unfortunate. I don't know why that always seem to happen when Anne brings her black vodka and we decide to drink it all straight up in 10 minutes.

The epic fail of the blog update

2010-04-15T16:23:00.000-07:00

Dear Head in Bag fans, my sincere apologies for not updating the blog in 2 weeks. I understand if you might not have made it through this immense lack of excitement in your life and as a result lost your sanity and nowsit in your bathtub wearing a Tescos bag on you head mumbling unintelligible. I know I probably would.

Unfortunately I do not have any heads in bags for you this time. The last two weekends have been considerably quiet and stained by various diseases such as flu and cold. The Dinner Club: For People who Like to Eat (People) did gather for a quick soup last Friday, but no heads in bags or disintegrating animals. I do however promise you heads in bags extravaganza when this weekend is over. Oh yes, I got marvellous plans. Splendid even! You will see. I will also post more frequently to build up tension for the incredible Cake War as the date is approaching. More info on that soon. Patience, dear readers. Patience.

Maybe I can fill in the void by uploading some drawings I've been occupying myself with. I know. Its just not as god as Heads in Bags, but what can I say? I'm a horrible person, perhaps not worthy of this divine responsibility. I will try harder in the future.

BioWare, what a bunch of retards eh?

2010-03-29T06:27:00.000-07:00

They got it wrong. SO wrong. Do I have to explain this again? JE-SUS.

Logic

2010-03-26T08:09:00.000-07:00

The following conversation took place on a southwest train service from London Waterloo to Guilford between the two awesome personas of Robert Tatnell (more known as the infamous sparkly-FX-man on Fable 3, Mistaaah Spaahkoooh) and Maddy (who also goes under the name of Sir Cakealot, van der Posht, and occasionally just Madeleine).

Maddy - Maria is going to China soon... God. China!! You know, I AM going to visit her. I just have to. I saw pictures of her flat and it really looks amazing... And I checked out tickets, not too expensive if you book in advance.
Rob - Yeah? I thought her flat would be super small considering the amount of people in Shanghai.
Maddy - No it’s huge! I mean its got a dining room. A DINING room.
Rob - Meeeh!
Maddy - You should come with me. I'm going for a week and she'll be working during daytime....
Rob - Meeeh.
Maddy - I can't run around in Shanghai all alone!!! Or I can, but you know.... it would be so much fun if you'd come too!
Rob - Meeeeh... meeh. Need to save up money now I'm... FTE... *sincere look, rubbing it in*
Maddy - Yes yes but just THINK! You... me.... roaming the streets of China.... doing mischief...
Rob - Mischief. Like what?
Maddy - Well I don’t know... Maybe stealing things!!? Yeah, stealing things.
Rob - Meeeh, NOT sure stealing things is a good idea in communist China. Prison isn’t that great I heard...
Maddy - Oh. I don’t really steal things. I would never REALLY steal things. Except flowers. I only steal flowers, that’s about the only thing I've ever stolen, is flowers.
Rob - Ok, so we will run around Shanghai stealing flowers... but what do we do with them? Do we bring them back to England?
Maddy - Yes! ...yes.
Rob - I doubt you'd get them through security check on the airport...
Maddy - Maybe we could run from the guards?
Rob - ...We'd have to eat the flowers to get them through the security check I think...
Maddy - Yeah. Well run from the security guards and if they're starting to catch up we'll just eat the flowers. We'll go "..TRY STOP ME NOW MWOAHAHAAHA..." Because clearly they can’t stop us. We will get the flowers to England.
Rob - Yeah!
Andrzej - *silence*

Privileged

2010-03-25T07:02:00.000-07:00

I am. I have the best friends in the world. Yes, tis a fact. They are creative, talented, kind, awesome, funny, beautiful people (and no Jowadi I'm not just talking about you). If I wasn't atheist I'd say I was blessed.
Maria is leaving the cold, grey and empty comfort of London and England for the colourful, crowded, spitting, elbowing country of CHINA! I am so happy and excited for her, but... that means she's leaving me! Oh dear. If the pain is unbearable I might have to go and bring her back. She drew me this amazing picture of me when working on her showreel. You see? My friends ARE the best. Thank you Maria, this made my day!

Oh and before I go, I must send out a warning to China. Be warned China, with Maria comes her friends and me and Mr. Sparkle (Chinese translation: Miiistaaaah Spaaahkooooh) are on our way.

Guildford life, in the fast lane

2010-03-23T06:56:00.000-07:00

Saturday. The Legion. Yes. We actually managed to get drunk enough to think The Legion was a good idea. It doesn’t make any sense to me. It was a normal Saturday, started off by doing a couple of hours at work. Around six, as my mind slowly drifted away from animation curves and graphs to rum and music, Jowadi and I went by Tesco and bought the modest amount of Captain Morgan Rum we usually do. Only one bottle each. It's a sensible thing really as there are two of us. Sensible. Really it is! It must have been the others joining in later at ours. Yes. It's their fault. To be honest I kinda think its mostly Bryn and Aimee's fault as the cake hat always brings out the worst in people. Its like a curse.
I learned two things from last time we thought The Legion was a good idea. There is a queue, a long one considering its The Legion and not somewhere where people actually choose to go rather than simply ending up there because they're too drunk to know any better. Then I learned that The Legion is NOT the same thing as The Royal British Legion. Oli told me as much a couple weeks ago, but I just didn’t want to listen. Not that I knew what The Royal British Legion was anyway, but it had a better ring to it. At least this time I didn’t stand waving my arms to the sky screaming "Let's go! I want to join the Royal British Legion!!". And I did get a good collection of heads in my bag. DJs heads, bartenders heads, random peoples heads. Good times.

The "Bag Rape" pose. My new Fav.

See what I mean?

"When a man is tired of Sevenoaks he is tired of life"

2010-03-20T10:33:00.000-07:00

One week ago the Dinner Club: for people who like to eat (people) assembled in Sevenoaks at Rob's mansion for the much anticipated "Session Two". Though in somewhat smaller numbers, since Maria and Johannes couldn't make it, the members made an excellent attempt to exceed in alcohol and food consumption. Just like Session One we didn't manage to actually devour any people but this time an excellent spicy udon king prawn stir fry. Rob would not allow Haku and Mei to join in on the feast but as he felt particularly generous and humble this day he treated them to some Tesco quality cat food. Happy days. To repay this magnanimous deed they devoted the majority of their night and early morning to secret ninja attacks on our bedroom doors.

Kitten in my bag.

Catman... dadadadadadadadaaa CATMAAAAN... Ive been plotting to make him a suit. It is going to be magnificent!

Its just deep. So incredibly deep.

I'm always amazed how they manage to design these signs to deliver a message that's just universally clear and understandable. Its like art.. I just can't get my head around it. It must be an innate talent that some lucky people just posses.

1. Don't pet the deer under the nose

2. Don't pet the deer ON the nose (or pinch their nose)

3. Don't dance infront of the deer

4. You may poke your dog with a stick in the neck

5. Do not barbeque the deer

6. There is a treasure chest on the gates between 10.15am to 6pm

When no one is around...

2010-03-09T05:16:00.000-08:00

Epic

2010-03-08T12:57:00.000-08:00

A couple of us people with good taste in music went to see Plaid, DMX krew and Luke Vibert this Saturday. Epic. Yes, even if everyone but me would fall under the category of "orutinerad" and almost slept on the dancefloor. Ok ok, they had been out for half a drink the night before. But really? Are we not grown ups? Are we not trained in the art of abusing our internal organs? Well I know I am. Anyways, despite having to take a taxi to Guildford (just to clarify, real men would stay up dancing all night then take the early train back. And yes, I think of myself as a real man) it was simply ACE. Nah, I didn’t get to offer Plaid my bag for their heads as was the plan, but I have a feeling the taxi would have been replaced by a police escort if I had jumped across the stage swinging my bag towards them. Also come to think of it I did spend most of my salary at Cybercandy at Covent Garden that same afternoon. My bag was so full of Japanese and American sweets (read artificial food colouring and stuff probably labelled as poison in higher concentration) that I doubt it could have fit even a small head anyway. But hey, I managed to get a one eyed Mikeymo's head in there. Not too bad.

Ehhr... I think it's called a "Whazoo". It said "artificial flavours" on it but I'm sure thats all lies. I ate one before I went to bed and had apocalyptic dreams of the universe unfolding. Yeah. Good stuff.

In a perfect world...

2010-03-05T17:17:00.000-08:00

...Miss Hjort and I would enjoy endless amounts of hummus and Captain Morgan rum whilst listening to quality music. Word.

C'est moi!

2010-03-05T06:21:00.000-08:00

According to Maria I aggressively force feed my friends with homemade tempura. She is spot on!

My Desk Family

2010-03-02T10:52:00.000-08:00

The weekend of the Nuclear Fallout Cat

2010-03-01T10:15:00.000-08:00

After work on Friday a couple of us Lionheads explored the shisha-place behind the station before the traditional "one pint". I have only two words for you, cherry tobacco. It simply is the best. It was however cold to sit outside despite blankets so after only one pipe we almost ran to the comfy warmth of the Drummond accidently stepping on Oli's longboard a couple of times in the process. At the Drummond not only did I find out that I have zombie fingers (always knew I'm not entirely human), I also -finally- found out what my superpowers are thanks to Rob. Yes many sleepless nights I have pondered on that very question, but no longer. Maybe one day the world will be ready and I'll make it official, but until then Barbeque Woman's identity will have to be a secret along with Sparkly Man and EatPoo Woman. I’m gonna have to make a suit now... oh well. After a lot of heads in bags, a blinking fairy light umbrella and a couple bottles of wine it was home to harass a sleeping Johannes. On Saturday lovely Maria Maria danced in from the big city spreading an aura of creativity and Tempura. "The Dinner Club - For People Who Like To Eat (people)" gathered on our black rug and ate until we couldn’t move. 1 bottle of Vodka and 3 bottles of Rum later 4 people ended up in a bath wearing feather boas and glasses. Beautiful. So Sunday then, that’s when the Nuclear Fallout Cat came to be. In the hands of Rob the finest little cat toy was crafted with precision and love! It was everything a nuclear fallout cat could ever wish to be, flesh wounds for a nose, melting eyes, yes it literally came apart in his hands! We also decided that Nuclear Fallout Cat is the name of our soon to be world-wide famous pop band. What a weekend eh!!

THE VAULT

2010-02-21T10:02:00.000-08:00

Finally. It was a glorious moment. A match made in heaven. Time stood still and the angels sang when The Vault Sthlm met headinmybag.

See the grace, the poses, the beautiful people.... THIS is The Vault.

Maria Maria

2010-02-17T07:29:00.000-08:00

Me and fellow headinmybag-founder Rob met up with some of my lovely Uni friends on Friday for Maria's birthday-valentines-bonanza. Why yes, in a spontanious and creative crowd like ours some new head-in-bag-moves were bound to be invented. People, I give you THE DOUBLEHEADS, THE MARIA POSE and some of the usual.

Cake in my bag.

2010-02-12T08:54:00.000-08:00

Me and Oli made special Valentines cakes today. Yeah, its just a NORMAL day here on Milo floor. Just the usual, no need to try outshine the Fable lot. Simply no need. Oh no the Cake War is still on, dont think this was even an attempt to settle things. No, like I said it's just the normal Core Anim love up here on Milo floor. Or as we're called from now on: "Team Sexual Tiger" .

The Coffee Police and Paramedic to the rescue

2010-02-09T04:44:00.000-08:00

Fear not, coffee lovers on Milo floor. The coffee police and paramedic are in the kitchen saving lives as I speak! AND we have three new cafetieres!!!!!

...But I don't have a drinking problem!

2010-02-08T10:04:00.000-08:00

Look, just because most of my head-in-bag pictures happen to be at a bar/in a club/when drunk it doesn't mean the concept only works when drinking (or that I never do anything else). To prove it I give you a brilliant example of when and where you can have your head in a bag without a single drop of alcohol involved.

You see? A nice walk in the beautiful Guildford woods, a perfect time to put your head in a bag.

...I even spotted some horses!

People say I like to drink rum....

2010-02-08T09:34:00.000-08:00

...at the Drummond on a Friday night. They are correct. Boys and Girls, I give you heads in bags from this and last Friday, enjoy!

(Wille: Happy now?)

Oh, bring it ON!

2010-02-05T07:36:00.000-08:00

Yeah so Neil Wallace on the Fable floor brought in tons of cake today (happy birthday btw, it was AWESOME), and everyone just went "oooh, who's ever gonna top thaaaat...". Honestly. I don't want to be a bitch here but if there's a master of cake at Lionhead, it's ME! You hear me??? The Cake War is ON! With the help of my cake apprentice Oli, Milo floor will dominate you, Fable floor!! Dominate!

To quote Oli here's some of our past cake- conquests. And that's far from all of them.

Friday

2010-02-05T02:52:00.000-08:00

ATTENTION

2010-02-04T17:37:00.000-08:00

Today something significantly important came to my attention. Believe it or not, but there seem to be some kind of... uncertainty regarding the Head In My Bag- concept. Yes, confusion even. Naive as I might be I thought I made it perfectly clear. Ok, maybe not PERFECTLY clear, but I was blinded by my conviction that the message would speak for itself, and if not that then the PICTURES would do the job. Yes the pictures. For those of you who couldn't be bothered to scroll down the incomprehensible distance of three posts, I can tell you now that there are pictures down there that will enlighten you. BUT just in case you're too dumb to understand I've made this image to clarify things.

A) No, the Head In My Bag-concept does NOT involve people putting their head in my bag to throw up. That's a definite no.

B) Seriously, it would be gross to have decapitated heads in my bag. AND its totally illegal.

C) YES. Look, there's a happy man. A drink in hand and a head in bag. There you go. Capiche?

I live in Guildford

2010-02-04T11:09:00.000-08:00

Guildford is a lovely little town. It's got everything you need, like London but smaller! More convenient. It's just that... some days... Well I just joined this group on facebook called "Shit London" (quite hilarious actually, you should have a look). Some days when I walk in to work all I see is Shit Guildford.

I'm not from England as some of you may know. I'm from Sweden. I wouldn't normally consider myself a patriot. In fact I think patriots as boasting, narrow-minded, inexperienced people. I mean, it's pathetic really. What so bloody good about your country, huh? Just because you happen to be born there... Pffft! I like to think I’m above all that. Hell yeah I embrace the world, wherever I go!

But here I am finding myself feeling unpleasantly at home at IKEA. Believe me I'm trying desperately to fight it, yet I keep getting into arguments with people about bathroom standards and carpets. My swearing vocabulary has changed from the standard “shit” and “damn” to “jävla U-land”. In fact I tend to blame a lot of my daily problems on England nowadays. Well to be honest, carpets in every form should be banned (and NO, it is not in any way great to have a carpet in the bathroom no matter how people claim they “suck the damp and moist right up”. That’s what you have VENTILATION for. Ventilation. It’s good stuff, look it up!).

I know I’m being unfair, but seeing as I live here now I feel I have earned the right to complain a bit.

So, to all you British people: I’m sorry. But THIS is what we call U-land.

Wednesday Work

2010-02-03T10:20:00.000-08:00

Im really busy at the mo. Really busy. Honestly I am!

It's ALIVE

2010-02-02T08:43:00.000-08:00

Happy days! You are about to witness a new dawn in the history of mankind. It is the birth of an era, it’s the glorious fenomena called Head In My Bag. Since you found this I assume you are either in the games industry, have no friends or no better things to do (in the first case the second and third applies, naturally). Alas, no longer is your geeky little life pointless and miserable. The excitement awaits!
It’s been called the "new lol cats" by... famous people. Yes, tis true! The message is unstoppable. It won’t be long until you will see heads in bags all over London, Paris and New York. It will spread quicker than the swine flu, faster than a Zombie virus. It might even grow bigger than “glas i kyckling” or the Internet. You just wait and see, my friend. Wait and see.
People will ask, just as you probably are wondering, how. How and where could anyone find the divine inspiration to create such an incredibly wonderful blog? Well I can’t tell you exactly how, simply because I don’t remember. I can however tell you how and where it might have been.

It might have been a dark and cold December night that a couple of very... sober... Lionhead employees sat in the back of a very quiet and tidy bus (the bus might have been referred to as "the sex bus" but why no one can recall, unfortunately). They might have discussed the beauty and usefulness of one spacious, black and shiny Louis Vuitton hand bag. At some point, one of the sober people probably pointed out that since this bag was nearly empty it could fit a head, a statement that needed to be proven. And so the first head was put in the bag. But it wasn’t clear to the sober people in the bus just what they had found. It would in fact take several weeks before this, the head in my bag blog, emerged from that ethanol cloud people would call the Lionhead Christmas party. But here it is. Yes, here it is.

Yeah I know his head is not actually IN the bag... But look how happy he is! And thats just by holding it.