"Hi there, my name is Daniel and I'm a 38-year old boy from Chester! My mums name is Olivia and my daddy's name is Timothy, but mum always calls him Tim-Tim. Mum can be such a loony sometimes. One time, on my birthday, she pretended that she actually thought it was my sister Lea's birthday. She pretended really well, sometimes I actually think she didn't know it was my birthday. But that would just be too silly of mum.
I read in my daddy's newspaper that you are currently looking for someone to play the character of James Bond in your new film, that's why I'm writing to you. I have always thought James Bond is the coolest! My favourite scene is when Bond kills that guy and the guy dies. It's so good! In fact, one of my dreams is to write a book about James Bond sometime. When all the other kids at my job are working, I sometimes sneak into a closet space and pretend like I'm James Bond in hiding. Sometimes, I stay in there for three hours or so, just hiding! One time, I forgot to eat for a long time and fainted, though. That was not so much fun...
I don't really know how to fire a gun or drive a car, but I learn really fast, I promise! Plus, I have many other skills! I can play guitar hero really well, I can imitate a dolphin really well, and my ears are super flexible. Anyway, if you're interested in letting me play James Bond, just give me a call at my house any time. If mum picks up the phone, just ask for Danny or Dandelion. I'm attaching a picture I made on mums computer, just to show you what a great James Bond I would be!"
x Daniel Wroughton Craig
Seriously, he doesn't even look like James Bond. Terrible choice.
This is me looking like an idiot at a shoot I did for Nylon over a year ago. And I'm not that small, the perspective is distorted, okay? Good. Some of the pictures from that shoot turned out pretty cool, actually. I'm going back to Sweden on Friday, then to London from January 6-12th, and then I'll be back in Berlin for a shoot a week or so after that. I'm excited about that one, it's going to be pretty sweet. And pretty cold, probably.
It should come as no secret to you people, that there are various forms of payment out there today. Cash, check, Paypal, Visa, Mastercard. The possibilities are endless. But what happened to all that old-school stuff? You know, when people traded goods for labour or favours. That was more my thing. I guess I just have a certain respect for people who like to keep it simple when it comes to payment. Like my homie Ghazal.
I have some new fashion pictures coming out before Christmas, but I'm not sure exactly when and where you can buy the magazine yet. I'll keep you posted, though.
I never understood people that buy small, ugly, insignificant dogs. The thing that bothers me about small dogs, is that they're jumpy. All things that are jumpy are annoying. People hate jumpy people, so why would you get a jumpy dog? I understand that small dogs are less work, but if you want less work, why don't you get a cat instead? At least they're aesthetically pleasing, something that partially makes up for their total lack of personality. Obviously, fashion people buy small dogs or cats, for the exact reason I just mentioned. When you choose a pet, based on the fact that you both lack personality, it might be time to re-evaluate and make some form of change. It makes sense to me.
Anyway, take Pugs, for instance. In what other instances do people want to pay a lot of money for defect goods? I thought defect goods were supposed to be free, or at least cheap? 800 dollars for something defect is not cheap. It is common knowledge that Pugs are a sad, biological failure. I'm not saying they suck, which they do, but it just seems like such a shitty deal to me. See, this is were I need your help. Can someone please explain to me why I should buy this sorry excuse for a dog:
When I could buy one of these little munchkins?
Also, the following names are currently being considered for my first dog:
What's up with everyone doing great covers these days? Hot Chip, for instance, have been putting out great covers for a couple of years now, and the trend is hardly getting worse.
In less than two weeks, I will be relocating from Berlin, back to my home town of Gothenburg. I'm pretty excited about it, actually. I have some new fashion photography stuff coming out soon, but I have to wait until the actual magazine is out, before I post any pictures. Also, my mom sent me all my birth info from Sri Lanka yesterday, which was pretty neat. This was me, I guess:
Asitha Vithanage Premawathie Born 19/9-86. 8:45 AM Bed 334633 Weight 6 LBS 3 OZS De Soysa Hospital for Women Colombo, Sri Lanka
I started this blog little over 2 years ago in New York. Back then, the blog was called Chasin The Banana. One year after I started the blog, I changed the name, since Chasin The Banana sounds totally gay. I wouldn't mind being labeled as a gay person, it's just that I'm not gay. So, I decided to change the name. By that time, Charles had entered my group of friends, so Chasin The Banana(C.T.B) became Charles The Bear.
To be honest, I have no idea how many readers I actually have, since I've never checked. See, if the number turned out to be more than I expected, I'd probably feel pressure to write in a certain way, and if it turned out that nobody reads this crap, I'd probably just stop posting. That being said, today I realized that I never told you guys about how the character Charles the Bear came into being, and I feel like there are inquisitive minds out there that might be curious, so here it goes:
Charles the Bear: Genesis First Blood II
Once upon a time, one whole year ago in London, two Swedish boys were sharing, not only a room, but they also had to share a very small bed. That kind of intimacy between friends is not only questionable, it's also kind of scary.
London was a strange, yet not a very complex city. Days in London did not consist of day and night, like in other cities. Days in London consisted of two other important parts of human existence. "Work" and "Being shitfaced". No other activities were socially accepted.
Since the gang living in Flat 9 Dresden House were a bit lazy, they mostly stayed at home, indulging in many different kinds of adventurous, sophisticated activities.
Some more legit than others.
The gang was getting along very well, living in a dazed, yet fun state, constantly traveling between different parts of their own apartment. And even though London seemed to have the whole package; great weather, excellent food, and decent prices, something was still missing.
And so, the boys set out on a quest to find the missing link. Kind of like in that movie Highlander, they scoured the far corners of the Earth, yet nothing really cool was found. That is actually nothing like the movie Highlander. After careful consideration, the boys did the only rational thing. They went on Ebay.
They found a world full of horrific tales and atrocities. Did you know that in China, thousands of girl bears are brutally murdered, often times by drowning, simply because they were born female? The Swedish boys were shocked. Something had to be done. They had to stand up for all the mistreated young bears out there.
A month or so later, the boys were relaxing in their couch, indulging in a furious game of Mortal Combat. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door...
And the rest, my friends, is what we like to call history.
I'm fairly certain that my buddy Mahsa is the prettiest girl on planet Earth. Now, I'm not sure how one would permanently roofie someone, thus putting them in a constant, sedated state, but I'm making that my New Years resolution, so that I can elope with a drugged out, pretty iranian girl and live happily ever after. In Mongolia. Win.
This is my "I'm an only child and I don't want to work"-face. I might make a mixtape called that, actually. Hey, that's a good idea. Stay tuned for that.
Here are some old pictures, simply because I am bored.
Obviously, I'm all for such a thing as an "Entertainment industry", but sometimes it just gets to be too ridiculous. Now, most people know who Aaron Carter is. In 1997, Aaron Carter released his first album, simply entitled "Aaron Carter". Carter was 10 years old at the time. Since we're used to this kind of thing, that does not appear to be odd. But when you look at the song titles, and content of the songs, the whole thing becomes extremely dumb. Remember the hit single from the album, called "Crazy little party girl"? Crazy.little.party.girl. Really? It might just be me, but I'm very confused about what a 10-year old, crazy little party girl does. Does she flash her non-existent boobs? Does she drink herself stupid off alchohol that she can't get anywhere? Does she have promiscuous sex? All things that come to mind are very disturbing. I'm assuming "crazy" implies dancing vividly, giggling like a retard and running around a lot, but isn't that something all 10-year olds do? In any case, I'm not following.
Or what about this one? This is 12-year old child star, Amy Diamond's song "What's in it for me?". It's also pretty dumb. The sentence leading up to the chorus is "I'm not a perfect little girl, but I should get what I deserve, and I refuse to be your mother". This sentence could mean two things:
1. This 12-year old girl is dating someone who should be able to take care of himself, but isn't, thus forcing her to act like his mother and caretaker. For that to be valid, he'd at least have to be 18 years old, since nobody demands that you take care of yourself before that age. So, what we've got here is an 18 year old dating a 12 year old. How romantic.
2. She's dating a boy of similar age, who just can't get his shit together. He goes back and forth, he's unsure of what he wants, and he just keeps messing with her mind. I just became a lot uncooler, since I wasn't even remotely interested in romantic mindfucking at that age. Or any kind of fucking, for that matter. I just wanted to play soccer.
So, miss Amy Diamond, I guess your question still remains to be answered. What is in it for you? Well, if you're dating an 18 year old, teen pregnancy is invevitably in the cards for you. And if you're dating a 12-year old mindfucker, again, teen pregnancy is probably in it for you. Have fun with that. Hey, what if it's a song about abortions?
This whole thing has made me realize what my next project should be. I'm going to write a book of poetry, called "Is it legal?" The book is meant to put emphasis on all the forbidden love out there. Here's a sneak peak:
Looking at you standing over there So firm and nice Should I walk over? Would you mind? Red, Intense, Love, Hate, Doubt Your friends are all so cool My mind is racing Would people understand our love? Feelings might get hurt But what do I know? I just want to be with you Forever Or at least until you're 13 or so
I still can't get over the fact that I went to Bowery Hotel and missed that one of Sweden's most famous bands played that night. It's not often that you get to see a band that normally plays for 20 000 people, play for a crowd of 200.
The fact that I missed it, makes me feel something like this:
We currently do not have any furniture in our apartment, which is why I'm eating pasta on the floor. It's almost becoming somewhat of a theme. Or "följetong", as we would say in Swedish. I don't know what the Sri Lankan word for theme is. That is why we have google, people.
Also, I've been thinking about New York lately. I have no desire to move there now, but it's always been my ambition to move there at some point, at least. Life there is too intense for what I'm after right now. And right now, I don't feel like living in a city where people don't hang out during the day. I'd like to think that there are other things to do but work and party. Especially when 98 % of the parties consist of standing around, trying to be be cooler and caring less about shit than everyone else. At least on Manhattan. So, what age shall we say then? Maybe 26? 28? 32? To be honest, I'll probably move to New York when I'm under the faux impression that I'm at my peak in life, and then I'll leave again because I'll realize that I actually don't want any part of it.
Until then, I'm just going to continue watching Charlie in "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia". He is, without a doubt, my favorite character right now.
I think I know what my New Years resolution is going to be this year. I'm giving myself 5 years to have visited all these countries. As you can tell, Africa hasn't really captured my interest.
The following would also be really cool, but are secondary choices:
Let me tell you about how messed up my laptop is: The CD-drive doesn’t work, the computer needs to be plugged into the wall at all times, I have to move the mouse constantly if I want the internet to work, and the following keys don’t work: A, Z, CAPS LOCK and Tab. Oh, and I saved the best one for last. This stupid computer won’t let me empty my own trashcan, because I do not have ”sufficient priviligies to perform that action”. What the fuck does that mean? I bought the computer. If I don’t have sufficient priviligies, then who does? Is there a person out there who’s unaware of the fact that now only he has the sufficient priviligies to empty the trashcan on my computer? Do I need to set off on some sort of quest to find this person? I’m telling you, it’s like the Sword in the fucking Stone. King Arthur, if you’re reading this, I need your help pulling the sword out of my trashcan, please.
I honestly don’t get it. Did my computer just wake up one day and decided, ”nu-uh, you’ve lost all priviligies to this body”? I've never encountered such defiance in my own home. It's quite shocking. And this raises all kind of weird questions for me. Was I a bad owner? Did I not treat it right? I always made sure there was a fresh power supply nearby, I always gave it the best new software, and I bought a case to keep it warm. Sure, I might have smacked it around a bit when it didn’t do what I told it to, but I never took it too far. All I ever asked in return for taking care of it, was that I got to play around with it a little bit after a hard day at work. Is that so bad? Many people will probably say yes, but I bet all those people have young, hot office-computers that they can play with, thus relieving them of everyday stress.
Well, in any case, I’ve had enough. If anyone wants to take my belligerent, ungrateful, dumbass computer off my hands, feel free. Because I’m fucking out .
Ever since I can remember, I've been taking Polaroids. Now, most of you will think that means I've always had a Polaroid-camera. That is not the case. I'm just bad at remembering things that happened before 2006. Especially since my life before high-school was pretty much the most boring, shitty, inbred existence ever. Now, I have hundreds of old Polaroids lying around, and I really want to post them, but I haven't gotten around to scanning them all. If you've read this blog for a while, you'll probably recognize most of these, but I thought all the new readers might enjoy them. I hate the fact that I need to point this out, but yes, these are actual polaroids. They are not an online program that adds a white border to your photographs, so you don't have to pay the extra money that polaroids cost.
Me, Erik and Linus in our apartment, Paris 2006
Anna and Alli, New York 2007
Linus, Stockholm 2007(?)
One of my first shoots, Paris 2006
Darjeeling, India 2007
Peter, Linus and Andreas with stolen sign, Gothenburg 2007(?)
Anna, New York 2007
Busy P and SoMe, Paris 2006
Holly. New York, 2007
Me eating pizza, New York 2007
This was right before Maja left for Brazil, and we were talking about how she is going to be a great photographer. She proved this by cropping off my head in this photograph.
