Wovon man nicht sprechen kann, darüber muss man schweigen
This is (as the clever ones already guessed) a personal home page. This means it's a page about me, what I like and don't like. That's what personal home pages are all about - I may be wrong, but I think that very few strangers who happen to find their way here are interested in yet another boring list of links or a couple of original "under construction" animated gifs. If you are, there are plenty of pages offering you all that and even more. I, on the other hand, am the person you should ask if ever you have any burning questions concerning me. Nobody else would make a Harri fan page, so I guess it's up to me.
I finally made a new home page. The old one had served its time, lying in the ditch next to the information superhighway. An occasional visitor won't probably notice anything different -- the colours are the same, my favourite font is still Verdana, the structure is identical to the old one. What's even nicer, even the contents are old and stuffy. I also noticed that you really really can't trust FrontPage to produce decent-looking (or even valid) HTML. I'm far too lazy to correct (or write! haha) everything by hand. I'm sorry. I've tried to fix some of the worst features, but I'm sure there's still an abundance of bugs everywhere. Stay patient (said the vet to the dog), they might actually get fixed one day! So, here I am, bragging about my new home page which is basically the same stuff in a new (although deceptively old-looking) package. Talk about a rip-off. Anyway, let's use the old content, just because it's there!
Something about your biggest hero... (that's me, you morons!)
Why is it that nobody feels like breaking the norms? People are soooo boring. Nobody I know wants to know what would happen if you went into a supermarket, took a bag of powder detergent from the shelf, opened and started tossing it into the air and shouting "Look, mom, it's snowing!". Then, when you take a Silja Line ferry from Helsinki to Stockholm (or vice versa), there's always this annoying person taking photographs (Who wants these photos anyway?) and I suggested that somebody'd act really pissed off, run to the photographer, tear the film out of the camera while cursing and muttering "Damn paparazzi, they're everywhere!". Nobody did that either. What's wrong with you people?
Do you know the feeling you get when you have a great idea and can't wait to be able to share it with your friends, your work mates and those guys who give out the Nobel prizes? Well I don't. I do, however, know the feeling you get when you have a really bad idea - the funny thing is, it usually involves an equal need to share your invention with all the people who happen to be really unfortunate and stand/sit/sleep/live/watch pigeons/kill beavers in your vicinity because there's no avoiding the awful fate of having somebody tell their terrible little thoughts to you. Like you should care. I'm one of these "need-to-share" people and now realised I have the perfect opportunity to share all my not-so-good ideas with everybody who has access to the Internet! Fortunately most of them are surfing the net porn waves with aching wrists and I only get to write to my imaginary friends (it's a well-known fact that I don't have any friends, I just happen to know the names of a couple of guys).
Always take time to stop and smell the roses. Sooner or later, you'll inhale some dog shit.
And now some humor to help you make it through the whole homepage...
-Mein Hund hat keine Nase!
My dog hasn't got a nose!
-Wie riecht er?
How does he smell?
-Schrecklich!
Awful!
You should have seen my very first home page (or maybe you have seen it and been permanently scarred. And you came back! Some people never learn. I'm not sure it's a good idea for you to have kids.). I carefully explained on my page that I have no skills in html. Some people ended up on my home page and sent me encouraging emails along the lines of "you're right, your page isn't good" which, needless to say, led to a huge build-up of self-esteem and really did miracles to my confidence.
REMINDER: This page is *supposed* to be the worst page you've ever seen. Finally it's over. Made it here? Congratulations, you'll get a flower as a reward for your patience.
If you can't be the best go for the other extreme. That's my motto. My other motto is "Miksi olla vaikea, kun voi vähällä vaivalla olla täysin mahdoton?"
Maybe I'll add my whole life story (was born, watched tv, slept, here I am) here one day if I get struck by an inspirational lightning. How probable is that then? About as probable as this page getting a "Top 5% of All Sites" award... (Which is, coincidentally, almost as probable as somebody actually wanting to read my life story.)
What would it look like if all the bones in a human body would break kind of like an earthquake? I called this the baseball phenomenon, but then forgot what that was supposed to mean. My thoughts are too deep even for me to understand, obviously.
stuff - uniforms, Coke cans, Monty Python and British humour in general, dachshunds, salmiakki, fluorescent pens, water guns, soap bubbles, traffic signs, my bed, books, movies, brackets, handcuffs, bathrobes, sauna, rappioäänet, really crap jokes, sleeping, gentlemen, Calvin and Hobbes (I'd love to have a boy like Calvin), music that "builds up" to something huge (this is hard to explain but I love it when the orchestra goes absolutely wild), people who laugh so hard they (almost) wet themselves.
Why is it that nowadays almost the most insulting thing you can say to a person is that they are ordinary or normal? Everybody wants to be original (well, that I can understand), quirky, weird, even mad. Anything but ordinary. The truth, however, is that most of us really are so damn ordinary there's really no use fighting against it. Being ordinary doesn't need to be boring, I'd say it's pretty safe. Everybody is an individual, some are just ordinary and maybe predictable individuals...
Why does the city of Toronto (at least the city center) smell of zambonis?
Maybe I'll add my whole life story (the complete three phrase version!) here one day if I get struck by an inspirational lightning. How probable is that then? Abou t as probable as this page getting a "Top 5% of All Sites" award... (Which is, coincidentally, almost as probable as somebody actually wanting to read my life story.)
When I was a little kid I needed a LOT of glue. We got this big tube every school year and I think I always used before the summer vacation. I had loads of things I had to glue. Why is it that now that I'm a bit older I never seem to need paper glue?
Ha! I knew you couldn't resist the opportunity to find out what actual skills I might have. It was only a clever (?) trick to lure you here, since even a little kid should know that I don't have any special skills. I only have unskills.
Salmiakki kuuluu pizzaan!
Ok, ok...not nice to copy my friend's homepage... but this isn't the only place where I do it...=) .
I know I'm the most handsome and divine creature you've ever seen. Modesty is one of my many virtues.
All this and more with best possible taste!
If you could choose one of the following supernatural powers: a) you could shoot fresh water out of your forefinger (a bit like having an in-built water gun) or b) you could pee through your little finger, which one would you choose? I think most women would choose b, but guys might want to fool around with the water gun.
-Frank Armoton
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"This page is really under construction"
There are many things I like and would love to be good at. I'd love to be a good singer with a very strong voice, but instead I have a pathetically weak voice (unless I'm yelling) and am a talented off-key singer. I'd love to be a programming genius because then I'd be able to pick almost any place I'd like to work. Unfortunately my accomplishments as a programmer are limited to "hello world!". I'd love to be a great writer and write clever and funny books like Stephen Fry or Terry Pratchett, but I don't like writing because I have no original ideas. I'd love to use the same font for every page here but frankly, I can't be bothered. Well, I'd love to be good at something besides sleeping. I know they say everybody's good at something, I just haven't found my area of expertise yet. Anyway, check out what I think and you'll realize that thinking certainly isn't my number one skill.
What would it look like if all the bones in a human body would break kind of like an earthquake? I called this the baseball phenomenon, but then forgot what that was supposed to mean. My thoughts are too deep even for me to understand, obviously.
I have a theory that explains bad weather. Maybe this sounds familiar: you have a very important day (wedding day, birthday, you're in a hurry or something like that) and you're hoping for a beautiful day, but instead you get rain, thunder, snow, earthquakes and stuff like that. Sometimes you may be hoping for rain - the you can count on the sun to shine brightly. I'm about to reveal a huge secret. The weather is there just to tick us off. According to my theory, whatever the weather may be like, it's bound to make somebody unhappy. The weather does it on purpose - if the rain ruins your outdoor wedding, you are the weather victim of the day. If, however, you notice the weather to be awful but it doesn't cause you any discomfort, you can always think of all the people that kind of weather is doing a lot of damage to and you'll feel a lot better. Well, at least if you're a mean person.
No need to be ashamed and no need to apologize
No...I want to be different. I don't admit that I've copied other people's pages, so I'll just say that this page is ready, it'll only be improved in the future. Or if I get too lazy, it will always remain like this. Who cares anyway, you won't know the difference.
For one reason
or another - they must all be bad ones anyway - I have decided to make this
thing called a homepage. The main reason was probably "I want to try out awful
background and text colors and see who c an manage to take it all and actually
read this page". This is not a graphical wonder (as if I really needed to tell
you this - I am assuming that since you are reading this you can see normally.
If you can't, I'll put some dots in the end to hel p you out) because I have
actually made this all by myself. I won't even put a counter here (not that
I knew how to do it even if I wanted to) because I don't want to see the sad
figures telling me I'm the only one who ever visits this place.
-Ludwig Wittgenstein
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My abilities and skills are often underestimated. Not that this has anything to do with my kindness or goodness, but I just had to bring it up anyway. I'm just angling for sympathy. From strangers. No thanks, I won't have any candy and I don't need a lift, but sympathy would be nice. Even without the tea (obscure TV commercial reference). Anyway, if laughter lengthens your life, many of my friends (haha!) should appreciate my effort of making them live longer just by existing and providing them with endless material. Just don't play Trivial Pursuit with me.
Just in case you are looking for entertainment that's not in English,
you should be somewhere else. Actually if you're looking for any kind of
entertainment, you can be sure not to find it here. I should know, I've written
this whole sad homepageything. Then again, if you want to see me boasting with
all the languages I can spea k (which isn't much as you probably notice if you
bother to follow these neat, cool, hip and absolutely self-made links that
follow), this is your lucky day. I wouldn't want to be around when you have an
unlucky day...
I bet you're all dying to find out more about me! Here's something I managed to type down in a fit of violent masturbation:
What or who Haza is?
Now to the point!
Where's the point? It's over there, in a box. No, really, the point is dead and the beast is late out of Paddington! That was surreal, eh? Well, it was supposed to be, it was a Monty Python quote.
Miksi puhutaan seksin harrastamisesta? Esimerkkikertomus: "Joo, onhan mulla harrastuksia. Maanantaina on kirjallisuuskerho, torstaisin käyn aerobicissä ja viikonloppuisin harrastan seksiä. Me kokoonnutaan usein ihan kaveriporukalla, perustettiin tossa viime talvena ihan oma seurakin; Nakkilan Niksauttajat. Piirimestaruuskisoissa meni ihan hyvin, oltiin sekasarjassa viidensinä."
...but seriously, Some things that might interest you:
And now fellows...more boring facts about me :)
Hair: black, straight, getting shor ter. It is not over shoulder length by now, so I could be an angel, couldn't I? They're not all blondes, you know... (I've been blonde / an angel...guess which...or witch?)
Eyes: Yes, I have in fact two of them. Both a re green-grey. It's not a colour but neither is the one that's in my eyes.
Height: 170 - 180 cm
Weight: Everybody asks, nobody tells :)
I once had an exciting encounter with a *very* mad American, who (for one reason or another) blamed me for not having the information he was looking for on my home page. I plead guilty. If your Google or whatever search engine you use gets you here and you can't find what you want, I guess that just means that you suck at using search engines. ;-)
Do able to share need beavers tell their terrible well-known fact that a will world and their your involves to be having Like you the friends, the names answered God and feeling you share your invention with somebody with aching wrists have any of to have a great idea who happen no avoiding get to write to know write! the bragging prizes? Well I don't. thoughts now realised I Internet! porn my my favourite haha) everything know the thing is, opportunity to share all strike Stay patient (said really really with your you have a really and with everybody who lazy to correct so mates and those guys the funny care. I'm not-so-good ideas Fortunately most noticed become written: yourself is you know the be all and stand/sit/sleep/live/watch pigeons/kill little waves only a couple of guys). vet you can't wait friends, really unfortunate there's of my imaginary friends (it's bread can't was For get when to to in your vicinity because and I I don't because you led your and an the people the awful fate net I just happen to which is it Nobel bad idea - equal have the to the new it's there! work I do, however, it usually should perfect of them are surfing about ditch next give out the when to you. "need-to-share" people has access that and is to same, who feeling you get one of these my Jesus colours are also also to
I got addicted to these small images as well. I guess it's all right as long as it's not getting out of control... OH MY GOD! They're taking over, one of them is trying to choke me and I'm almost out of breath, this is my only hope. Can anybody hear me, help me please! I'm attacked by these small things and they're trying to kill mdsöjdheöoghrqqrhåhe. HAH. That got rid of that old babbler all right. We now de clare this page as our kingdom - the Era of the Small Pictures Who Usually Are Pleased to Serve You but Now Are Quite Fed Up With It All has begun. The existense of you, me and everyone is uncertain. You just cannot know for sure.
If I had a company that manufactured tents, I'd call it Compe. Then everybody would say: "We won't buy just any ordinary tent, we want to buy a Compe tent!"
Have thought
that plastic bags in fact look like swans
Like soap bubbles - especially
inside service stations and movie theatres
What would it look like if all the bones in a human body would break kind of like an earthquake? I called this the baseball phenomenon, but then forgot what that was supposed to mean. My thoughts are too deep even for me to understand, obviously. If you had to walk along the biggest street in a big town wearing only one item of clothing, what would it be? I've given this a lot of thought. Haven't decided yet, though.
-Dirty Harry
Why is it that nowadays almost the most insulting thing you can say to a person is that they are ordinary or normal? Everybody wants to be original (well, that I can understand), quirky, weird, even mad. Anything but ordinary. The truth, however, is that most of us really are so damn ordinary there's really no use fighting against it. Being ordinary doesn't need to be boring, I'd say it's pretty safe. Everybody is an individual, some are just ordinary and maybe predictable individuals... I think probably 90% of the things we say could be left unsaid and about 20% of the things we say we later wish we hadn't (percentages are nice). Wouldn't it be nice (especially to all the people who know me) if everybody talked a lot less but said only really imElkää soittako poliiiiisia sikäli että se on portant things aloud? You're right - no, it wouldn't be nice, because I wouldn't be allowed to speak at all. I give most of my money to the music industry, bookshops and beverage companies (the Coca-Cola Company and PepsiCo, to be precise). In other words, I support small and struggling companies that otherwise might collapse. My mobile phone operator also gets a substantial amount of money, which is quite surprising since people usually tell me I never call them. This is because I suffer from phone phobia (a rare condition which makes you go out of your way to deal personally with people who live very far just to avoid calling them on the phone).
Once again I lost the point but here it is ->
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My favourite subject of exploration at the moment seems to be the human mind. My view of the world is not your average either. If you feel that even one of these statements describes you or feels close, you must be a great person. If you feel that all these statements sound familiar you must be me.
Kiitos Katri parista sitaatista...
I'm not invisible (not at all invisible - if you can't see me, I think you'd better stay off the streets) so don't treat me like I were. Get to know me, you arrogant little bastard. (I just looooove insults.)Why do people do that? That always pisses me off. Like those pedestrians who knock on my bonnet when they want to cross the street (I may be on their way but if there's a car right in front of me and right behind me, where the hell do they want me to go? Rise up in the air?). Anyway, people who gesture wildly because they have to actually take their heads out of their a**holes (parents, do you know what kind of filth your kids can find when they seem to innocently browse the net?) (they might be influenced by bad language and start using split infinitives, for instance) to be able to see that other people are using the road too and no, the government didn't just spend billions to build you your own highways and then they notice that I've had to stop somewhere (maybe it's just my pettiness but I don't want to be run over by a cement truck) and they have to actually try to avoid driving right through me and then they get these spastic fits where they wave and show their fingers at me - well, they're are morons. My explanation isn't too clear, but anyway I just wanted to say that I hate people who take driving too seriously and I want to whack them with a baseball bat. Road rage? Been there, done that.
If you're annoying, stop it. If you don't, you're even more annoying. If you can't stop, don't come near me when I'm carrying a baseball bat. (Yes, I do have a thing for baseball bats.)
The last time
I was here was around 31.08.1986. I hope to see me again real soon. You
too, if
you want to read this over and over and over again and learn it by heart. But
that wouldn't be too wise, would it?