HELLO!! ZIS IS MARKKKKGGGGHHHHTTTAAA!!

*cough cough*

Vell kiddies, I vas valknig down the road to Valhallah again, yesterday, and do you know vhat I saw? It vas a GIANT BIG smily face imprinted in the mountain. So I stopped the corpses that vere valking beside me and I said to zhem: "I PUT THAT FACE (and my name) IN THAT MOUNTAIN (goblet) OF FIRE!!! YOUR FACE MUST DIE!!" And zhey just valked avay from me...

Then I telephonized RIICCCHHHAARRRDDD and told him "IF YOU VANT TO GO SVIMMING, GET ON THE BUS" and he just hung up on me...

Zhen, I telephoisti Fan#2 and I azk him vhat he is doing. He hugn up on me...

~Fan#2 who is more than slightly hyperactive!! XD XD XD XD XD

Let's Go Swimming....

"Now Kiddies, I have arranged for to all go svimming! Isn't that vonderful? We
can go on an ancient coach, roll around in the snow and wear nothing but a vin
the meedle of Winter! Are you all excited?"

*Insert an hour's break in which we all took the mick out of
her and that
certain infamous photo took place*

[We're all sitting in the lobby, chatting, after dinner that
night]

[Marta approaches us all at random]

"... kiddy, are you going svimming? WELL GET ON THE BUS!!! How
about you, kiddy? Are you going svimming like a little SALMON? Well... GET ON
THE BUS!"

She grabbed this particuarly bewildered looking student and
literally throws him through the porch, out onto the coach.

[she runs onto the coach, looking ferverished and stressed with
us all]

"...kiddies, vhere have you all been? I mean, five minutes late?
Not bad. Ten minutes? OK? BUT FIFTEEN MINUTES? KIDDIES? WHAT WERE YOU THINING?
You stupid kiddies! Now, let us go roll in snow."

[We all got to the pool and to our most sweet relief, Marta did
not actually join us in the pool, although one of our Sixth formers was suicidal
enough to roll around in the snow, only to then go and jump in the 40 degrees
centigrade [115 fahranheit, as a guess]

In the next edition I may not actually tell you a Marta story but a weird little side story which kinda sprung from the Swimming pool disaster. Also, in future reading, watch out for the trauma that was our X Factor Night in which several people took the Mick out of Marta.

Heh. Dunno really,

Oh well, the titles we use are never terribly imaginitive anyhoo.

"...Kiddies, I'd like to tell you a story of my life. You see, when I was born, I, uh, well, I, uh, well, I'm not sure really...

"...Of course kiddies, when you go bowling, you grab a big balls and throws it down the lane...

"...It is my dream in life, kiddies, to go bowling in the lavafields at midnight. I would love to go and go and go and play golf. Especially at midnight, on lavafields...

"...Njals Saga is Icelands finest Saga. It is the finst piece of writing to ever come out of Iceland...

"...Did I ever mention to you the Njals Saga? It is the finest Saga of Iceland...

"...Kiddies, I visited Valhallah and whilst I was there, do you know what I did? Drank ale from goat levers...!

"Once upon a time, Icelanders were all Irish. Also, they were Vikings. I am an IRISH VIKING..."

"Njal, well, he was man. He was a fine Saga indeed. The finest to ever come from Iceland..."

Just a collection of Marta quotations for y'all. Thanks for reading and don't be shy. COMMENT. XD

Absurdity. I'm drunk off my head. Hiccup!

Honest to God. I swear down. Why don't you believe me? My name is
EEENNNGGGlish, I tell you! Here, take my Veeeeeezzzza, it is good no? It is
no
matter if you are a Liverpool fen or a Manchester United fan, but I
am
drunk off
my head! *giggles drunkenly and hic-coughs* Heh.

In case I haven't yet introduced you to drunked guy in the airport, I know have. So there.

Marta once said that all drunken people were drunk. It was just about all she had to say on the matter, since she was drunk herself. That was a night I'll never forget. It all began when... [ARGH]

Kiddies! I have hi-jacked you all! I own each and every stinkin' one of you! Ha! Trolls will take over the world, almost as quickly as I do! N'ya! Death to all who oppose me in my strive for Marta Martasmumsdottir to become ultimate Irish Viking. Ya!

But first of all kiddies, I must tell you something. The puffins, they have returned. Sadly, they contradicted my theory of no puffins, so I went out with my gun and killed everyone of them. Fun!

Mount Marta

Yup, it is what is says!

"...Kiddies, you see that mountain just to our left-right-left-right-left? Well, that is Mount Hekla and it is my mountain. You see, when I was baby, this mountain was called 'three-thousand-pair-of-fishskin-boot-if-you-are-stupid-mountain' but after a rally of complaints from the Icelandic English comitee, we decided on a nice, ethnic Icelandic name of Mt Hekla. Anyways, I was born near that mountain, and since then, I was written four petitions to Icelandlic Government, claiming its ownership. The nice man that I am friends with, you know, the Pressiddent, well, he smile and say 'OK Marta, I vill let you have the mountain'..."

"...So now, this is my mountain. I own it and not one of you do. All fffffffotographs must be given to me and not you. I own the photographhhhhh thereby owning you, HA!..."

"...So anyway, Mt Hekla is the largest, uh, mountain in Iceland, as is Mt Lekla, Mt Tekla and Mt Gekko, all of which are to your left-right-left-right-left-right up! Do not confuse them kiddies. No matter what the rest of the world says, I am right. They are all separate mountains. And recently a study by Crazy Pyschos monthly, published results the same as mine. You see, I knew it all along. Not you. ME! I KNEW IT WAS!!!!!!!!"

Yup, we all believe her too. If you happen to read Crazy Pyscho monthly [which I don't, I just, errr, happened to, errrrr, pick it up whilst... errr... you know... errrrr... accidently finding it in my room] you'll notice that the chief editor and only columnist is 'Marta Marta'smum'sdottir'. Yet I still don't find that odd... [I do need some help. HELP]

Hiya!

"...Hello kiddies! I have learned how to access that thing that you
stupid English kiddies know as the inferno-net and have managed to bully Fan #1
and Fan #2 into letting me post. In fact, I stole their access code thingy and
have used this opportunity to reek havok before they change it!..."

"...Over the last few weeks, you vile, disgusting kiddies have abused
your authority over me! All I wanted to do was
errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr ...
errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...
errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr... learn your language,
which I now speak errrrrrrrr... fluentish. So, I want you to do the same. The
name Marta must be pronounced with as much of a guttaral 'khghkhgh' as possible.
So, we actually say 'Markhghtaaaaaa' when referring to me. It also sounds
suspiscously like Mad Troll, which is actually the results of my surname
'Madtrolls'dottir'. Yes, I knew you knew that too..."

"Alzo, I must add that you kiddies have a, errrrrr, special surprise
today. I habve remembered to bring with me that pair of Fishskin boots which
almost led to our deaths on a previous occasion. [she reaches into her pocket
and pulls out a pair of tiny, 4cm long, fishskin boots] [we all gasp in
amazement and are all thinking exactly the same thing]..."

Suddenly, everyone on the coach is thinking - "Its not a wonder that it took them about 400 pairs to cross a mountain when they're that small!!!!!!!!!"

Ha! What a weirdo

Global Warming, Kiddies!!!

"...Now kiddies, global warming is bad..."

Yup, Fan #1 and I know for a fact that global warming is not good. So, we remembered a little spiel that Marta went off on about something to do with Global Warming!

"...Now kiddies, I want you to listen for a moment. In Iceland, we care
very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very,
very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very,
very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very,
very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very,
very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very much. We
have puffins in this country and we care for them. But now, the puffins do not
come here. The fact that we hunted them ruthlessly is nothing to do with it. It
is the fault of you and your stupid fat America. I HATE YOU SO MUCH RIGHT NOW
(Copyright Kelis :)...

"...So anyway, I would like to say how dissappointed I am in all of
you. Driving around in a minibus all day is no way to make a living. For shame
on you all...

"...Oooooh look, there is a puffin. Despite of what I just said, there
is another and another and another and another and another and another and
another and another and another and another and another and another and another
and another and another and another and another and another and another and
another and another and another and another and another and another and another
and another and another and another and another and another and another and
another and another and another and another and another and another and another
and another and another and another and another and another and another and
another and another and another and another and another and another and another
and another and another and another and another and another and another and
another and another and another and another and another and another and another
and another and another and another and another and another and another and
another and another and another and another and another and another kiddies!
Millions of them! I change my mind. Global warming is good. Mwahahahaha.
[cough-cough]...

"...But of course kiddies, there is a message for you all to take from
my stupid little rant. The message is simple - whilst on holiday in a
foreign country, never accept help from any small, mad trolls in red
anoraks..."

Frere Jacques...

Now were are going to officially document the single-most embarrassing thing that Marta ever did to us. I mean, she did some really, really embarrassing things but this easily flew to the top of the lids. To set the scene, we were all sitting down for dinner in our 4-star Hotel when suddenly, a short woman with curly brown hair wearing a red anorak stands up and takes centre stage...

"...Uh, kiddies, I have just received a message from Valhallah (they're
on speedial). When I returned from my [drug] trip, they told me, Marta, the next
time you are in a large crowd with all of your kiddies whilst they eat in a
4star hotel, get them to sing Frere Jacques. I thought to myself; you know, I
won't just get the kiddies to do it, I'll embarrass the other people in the
hotel to do it too.

"So, I want you now to all start singing Frere Jacques [please note
that at this point, everyone in the room was silent and listening with fear to
Marta, in a similar way to the silence received by the President of the US
having admitted that his country did wrongfully invade ****]. If you don't start
singing kiddies, I will eat your flesh. SING DAMMIT!"

[The room is filled with a rather feeble chorus of weak voices singing
Frere Jacques. Next Marta turns to her fellow Icelanders and encourages them to
join in. The majority look crestfallen [that's nothing compared to us], but
reluctantly begin to sing whatever it is the Icelanders call Frere
Jacques].

"Good kiddies... I have just filmed you all and I will keep it for my
future. The same goes for you adults. MWAHAHAHAHAHA... [cough, cough,
cough-cough-cough, sorry I have an awful cold. COUGH]. I will now embarrass you
all further by playing it back to you, featuring close ups of everyone's faces
and...

[Acutally no, THANK GOD, she didn't film it (or at least I don't think
she did) and she definitely didn't make us hear the awful attempt again. The
applause from us all at the end was louder than the singing and every single one
of us now knew that if we came into Rejkjavic the next day and came across any
of these people, we'd be shot evil cruel glares for having brought Marta near
them... I know I know, she was onr Icelander in a million but still, I now fear
short people in red coats. It's like trauma. Wah...]

*Please note. On our trip, we all actually were forced to sing Frere Jacques in the Hotel Dining room with some poor Icelandic holiday goers. We apologize to said holiday goers and would like to make it crystal clear that it actually did happen and we're not just making this up. HONEST*

Hello

Hello to anyone reading. If anyone is reading... But then again, how could I be saying hello if there was no-one there to greet, therefore I'd be greeting the space-time continium, inviting Doomsday and - QUICK RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ITS THE APOSTLES DURING THE APOCOLYPSE! ARGH. And there's Marta. Ha. Would you look at that...

"...Kiddies, here and now, at the end of the world, I must confess my multitude
of sins. You see, I have never been, nor will I now have chance to be, a
tourguide. You see, in Icelandic, NST is the National pSychopath Trust. So, when
they hired me from NST, I was first to volunteer. You know, we Psychos are good
at being crazy. It is all we can do...

"...that red coat, for example. I
never take it off because beneath it, it is a straight-jacket. Ha. I'm so crazy.
Even Thor told me so. When I went out of the coach to check up on all of the
kiddies in Valhallah, he said to me Marta, you are very crazy woman. You on
serious drug."

[That was my suspscion at any rate...]

"...I'd
really like to imagine, that I, kiddies, am a troll. That's what my name means.
Originally, it was Mad-Troll, shortened to Magdroll, eventually to Marta. You
see, the time-line makes a lot of sense. Just like me. If I no make sense,
trolls will rule the world, along with the Irish. I am Irish you know kiddies,
just like you... Mwahahahahahahaha...."

I wonder (Number 2)

I wonder if Marta has the capabilities to ever read this blog. I mean, seriously, would she be able to find it because I for one am a little uncertain. I doubt that she owns a computer, as do I doubt that she has ever used a computer. However, a member of her family may have used one. But then again... Nah, not important. What is important is archiving the stupid things that she did and said. Now, we're going to delve into some smaller stories...

"...Kiddies, I vant to tell you how I went to Valhallah. [Multiple groans
from the rest of the travellers] [Some pipes up 'Marta, what's that Mountain to
our right-left-right-left-right-left-right-left?]...

"...Uh, I do believe that it is
Ten-shoe-to-cross-this-mountain-if-they're-amde-of-fishskin-Mountain kiddies!
You know why it is called
Ten-shoe-to-cross-this-mountain-if-they're-amde-of-fishskin-Mountain? It is
because in Iceland, during the Great Cow shortage of '88 [1788 that is], we had
to rely on something over than cow-skin for our shoes. So, we resorted to the
best next thing - cheap and very smelly fishskin. Whislt crossing the mountain,
the shoes began to rot and as a result, needed changing. On this particular
mountain, we had to change our shoes ten times!!! TEN TIMES KIDDIES! HOW
RIDICULOUS, no...?"

"...Well, I always carry a piar of fishskin boots around with me. I have
them because if I don't, the Gods of Valhallah may eat me alive. Particularly
Thor. He wasn't too fond of me because I played with his goat and drank all of
its ale, so that there was none left for me. [hiccups drunkenly]. So kiddies, my
fishskin boots are... Goddamnit! I don't have them with me..."

[Suddenly, our tourbus is halted on the road. Marta, being the number one
Source on all things ICelandic pole vaults from the bus and runs over to the
problem. The tourbus in front of us has been stricken by a suspisciously large,
metal lightning bolt. Hmm... Marta insisted on helping clear the wreckage and
when she began to try to lift the thunderbolt away, the IRAC [Iceland RAC]
people dismissed her as a loon and left her be. We felt the same way...]

So there you have it folks. The story of why Marta always had a pair of fishskin boots but not on the day she mentioned them. Good thing the Icelandic Gods were a bit tipsy on goat ale or who knows, we may never have been able to present this delightfully stupid blog to you all!!!

CAUGHT OUT THERE

If you were in Iceland and you ever saw me or Fan #1, you'll probably have seen us listening to a song on a CD player and laughing our selves in stupor. It was this all time classic from Kelis. I don't even think we listened to a single other song on the album. But we did listen to this. Over and over and over and over and over [etc] again. Fun.

kelis - caught out...

"...Kiddies, you obnoxious music has made me realize a thing. I should never have married my husband for now my daughters with their red coats (I'm sure Kelis actually even mentions a red coat too... suscpicious, no?), will have to be called Kiddy Martasdottir! Imagine!..."

If

If anyone reading this blog cares enough, you can now send a post in an e-mail by pressing the funny little envelope icon underneath the post. So now, you can spread the stupidity elsewhere!

[Picture this, a blizzard and we all had a cold already]

"...Kiddies, I want you all to come outside! There is a tiny geysir in the
road and if I pour washing up powder in it, it may do something! Come on
kiddies, into the snow! It fun!..."

Relcuctantly, we empty from the coach and Marta is leaning over a rather
suspicious looking hole in the ground, into which she is pouring washing up
powder. After about ten minutes, we all have been covered in snow and ice, can
barely see and have an odd homocidal tendancy toward small Icelanders in red
coats.

Steam pours out of the geysir, but no water...

"Look kiddies! It is the wonder of Hydroelectric Steam!"

Yes Marta. Whatever you say...

I wonder

I wonder what would happen if the person that played Marta in the Prank Phone call had actually prank phone called Marta... Here's the result. Again, thanks to a certain Wall for finding these. I came up with them ages ago and he brought them back for me. Well done you, but the credit goes to McLaughlin's #1 Fans 'cos its our blog. Nyeh. (o_O)

[Phone Rings.]

Robert: Hello, zis is Martaaaa.

Marta: No, zis is Marta. (clearly
sounding upset.) I can prove it. My name is Marta Marta'smum'sdottir!

Robert: Ya, well my name is Marta and I know that Icelander's don't have
a surname!

Marta: [under her breath] damn you Eng-lish. [more clearly] Well I
did I talk on the ducks!

Robert: Did you like my talk on the puffins? It
was gut, ya? No? Ya?

Marta: What talk? I felllllll...........

[several minutes
later....]

Marta: asleep.

Robert: Oh, well, I have something to
tell you.

Marta: Now what would that be? If I were me I know what I'd
say if I were about to tell myself something over the phone to someone claiming
to be me whilst I claim to be me.... (try and understand that!)

Robert:
Erm...urm...ahhh... I'm a lesbian, no?

Marta: Me too!! I'll meet you at
your house, beautiful lesbian kidddy!

Robert: Noooooooooooo (Spell checker
wanted me to make this rather long noooooooooooooooooo into no. No!)

TO BE CONTINUED ...............................................................................................................................

ARGH!

If you know me, which you can't 'cos 'm anonymous, you may know that Marta stalked me perpetually for the best part of a year. She tracked me down. She followed me and... No, wait for the post...

(Two person dialogue)

Fan #2: Urmm, Hello?

Marta: Hello, zis is Mar-taaaaaa!
[cough]

Fan #2: Oh, er, hi...

Marta: Well kiddie, did you like
all of my incessant ramblings about ten different rivers which were the longest
in Iceland and that eeerrrrrrrrrrrrrr....

Fan #2: Marta?

[A few
seconds later]

Marta: It doesn't snow in Iceland. Instead we have horses
which fall from Valhalla with eight legs, only one of which actually works.

Fan #2: Yep (with obvious annoyance)

Marta: Well, ermm.........

Fan #2: (under breath) for heavens sake woman, spit it out.

Marta: erm....I am a paedophile who stalks little children whom I meet
on my travels. May it be of interest for you to know that I am at your door,
smiling grimly through the glass.

Fan #2: Yes. Marta, that was of great
interest to me.

Marta: OK, now remember kiddie. I know where you live.

Fan #2: [after hanging up the phone] NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

(After much slinking sounds Marta finally remembers to hang up and
leaves me wondering why in the world I had up that conversation....)'

Now, I answer the phone with caution. Also, I legally can call the police the second she steps over the threshold of my Porch. She doesn't even need to make it to the House!!! Oh, and thank you very much to 'A Certain Wall' for providing me with this evidence for the prosecution of Marta. God save you.

Valhallah the Fourth - A New End

*Heh, heh, heh* In Soviet Russia, Stupid Titles write YOU!!! Also, In Soviet Iceland, mad troll is YOU!!! In Communist Iceland, however, Valhallah comes to YOU!!! (No offence to any Uncyclopedians - we both happen to love Russian Reversal. If ours are really bad, don't worry, so are yours)! Now for Marta...

"...now kiddies, I will tell you my last story of Valhallah as I fear that if I tell you any more, the Gods will eat me. Now, on my last visit to Valhallah, I met an Irish person. This Irish person said to me 'Marta o' Iceland, you're a little leprechaun'. I said ooh. So from now on, I tell everyone that Iceland people aren't Viking but actually, they is Irish! Then, kiddies, last year, there was a report by Iceland President, who is good friend of me, that said all Icelandic people were more closely Irish than Viking and I suddenly dropped everything I was carrying in the streets and started shaking random people in the street going 'I knew and no-one else and I knew it and no-one else did and I knew it all along!!!' People just looked at me with with pity..."

Whoo... We think that Marta did visit Valhallah again and died. We may publish news of her death at a later date... But until then, let's enjoy her crazy, rather amusing life.

Uhh...

Uhh...? That's yet another expression of confusion after having listenened to Marta for ten minutes solid. It escaped from my mouth with just about all of the poetic licence of a burp and expressed my feelings about as accurately as possible. Uhhh? A girl got a phonecall from Marta...

"...Hello, zis is Maaarrrtttaaa! I am,. un, calling you to ask you something. Did you like my talk on the puffins today? It was good, no? Yes? No? Yes? No-yes-no-yes-no-yes...

"...I, uh, have something very important to tell yooooo. I, uh, am a lesbiaaaaaann."

I promise, we were as scared as you. But Marta never actually said this. It was a cruel prank on one of girls. And she fell for it. It quickly spread about that Marta was a lesbian stalker. FUN. Heh.

Hi

Welcome. We'd just like to say hi to all of our fantastic fans (OK, there may only be us, but still). If you do feel the odd, unexplainable urge to leave a comment (why?) then please, please, please don't use our names. As much as we adore the attention (yup) we'd rather not give away our names. Use ***** or Fan #1/2 if you have to refer to us, but then again, we're just following in the almighty God crumbling footsteps of Marta. You probably don't even know we exist. This is for any new readers and for all of the old ones =)

"...Well kiddies, I'd like to talk to you. If you'd all like to come
and sit outside in the corridor, we'll talk, yes?"

[Rather like the pied Piper, she escorts all of the Year 11s and a few
curious Year 10s into the corridor, where they sit around her in a circle.
Conversation ensues and suddenly, laughter erupts from all. Curious, everyone
who wasn't there opens their doors and walks out to see what is so funny. Our
History teacher comes out and asks directly.]

History Teacher: "Oh, Marta, it's, uh, nice to see you getting along
with the kids. What are you talking about?"

[Everyone sat on the floor shuffles with embarrassment, but the
oblivious one that is Marta puffs up proudly and says]

Marta: "...Sex. It is very natural in Iceland to talk to random
strangers about Sex. Sex Sex Sex."

[Our History teacher goes an amazing shade of Crimson before returning
to his room. No-one stays to listen to the rest of that conversation, except
those who were sat on the floor. Some odd mechanism had glued them down and only
when Marta finished could they move. Odd]..."

Heh. I think the look on our History teacher's face was classic. Nothing has ever quite compared with it!

Hmm

Fan #2: This means nothing to no-one. ASDKJASIDJASDN

Now, if that confused you, let me explain. That was my way of summing up our state of mind after listening to Marta for five minutes. We all just heard ASDKJASIDJASDN. Hmm...

Fan #1: Would you like some ketchup with your gugna?

Fan #2: That was a very subtle reference from the usually blantant Fan #1. I'll expain. On a billboard in the airport, there was the word Gugna. We hadn't been given the amazing teaching of Marta...

"...kiddies, I'm going to teach you Icelandic today. I, errr, have some
pieces of paper with words on them. Read it and learn it and if you don't I'll
slit your throats..."

Fan #2: Yep, so we were stumped as to what gugna meant. Fan #1 decided that it sounded like something that you'd eat with ketchup, so it stuck and one of our few memories of the Icelandic language was that Gugna was an edible word best served with the question 'Would you like ketchup with your Gugna?'

Fan #1: Maho!!!

Fan #2: Sorry, Fan #1 just couldn't resist!!!

Valhallah Episode Three - The Revenge of the Troll

Sorry for the Star Wars pun, I guess you all saw it coming...

"...kiddies! I err... would like to tell you more about my country and
Valhallah. Now, as I told you, all of the rocks on the sides of the road are
trolls. You see, at night they come out as trolls and kill all of the little
kiddies they come across. They find them absolutely delicious. Yes, delicious.
So fleshy and young. The bones are tasty too. I could chew on them for
days...

"Anyway, if you notice - KIDDEEEEEEEEESSSSSSS!! Why aren't you
listening? I will have to go to Valhallah and send Thor to attack and kill you
all!!! HEHEHEHEHE!!!... [cough, cough]

"But finally, the trolls, they move places so if you see, on our way
somewhere, the rocks are on our left, but when we return they are on our right!
Isn't that amazing kiddies [everyone sniggers that they're on the other sides
because we're driving on the other side of the road in the opposite direction,
but we keep her from having to overhear it. She can enjoy her weird
fantasy]."

Thank you all!! KIDDIES TO THE RESCUE!!! (The whole purpose, in case you didn't get it, was that we all, including our History teacher, believed that she was a mad troll as her pronunciation of her own name was 'Mad-tra'. Being slightly hard of hearing and full of evil sarcasm, we twisted that slightly to Mad Troll. Why not? Our History teacher, who was bitter because he got beaten by a Biology teacher in Bowling, even went as far as saying 'We were guided around by a mad troll' on the DVD produced for parents about the trip! Ha!)

PHOTOGRAPH!!!

Whoo, I found a photo I took of the whole group in Iceland and Marta is on it!!! Yeah! Here is our red-jacketed inspiration - the red jacket was the thing which distinguished her from his. She always wore it (I mean always...). At this particular moment, she was saying something like this...

"...Uh, kiddies, now the, er, ridge runs along the country going South East
the whole time. The gap in the middle, which we in Iceland call, 'Land of
Middle', grows by approximately 500 cm per year which is about this much [note
hand gesture being made in photograph]. [Our Geography teacher cuts in]
'Erm, Marta, as far as I know, it only grows 4 or 5 cm in a year and the 'Land
of Middle' is called no-man's land, isn't it?' [Marta] No You stupid geography
teacher! It, er, ARGH! Enough, now, let's go and do something else, [a
distinctly sulky tone entering here voice..."

Thank you all, that one was for our Geography teacher for all the abuse he suffered and for us, with all of the abuse we suffered (which was considerably more than was directed at any teachers, let's put it that way). Remember kiddies, never be fifteen minutes late in Iceland or the trolls will eat you alive!!!

Interruption

Hi there. We're interrupting the usual rubbish to bring you this special Marta-ism. It's one of our personal favourites. Besides, I bet you needed to know this!

"Kiddies, are you going swimming, eh? Well...GET ON THE BUSSS!...

[Several minutes later]

"...I get a shiny new bus for you too kiddies. Are you going swimming [asking me, whilst I stared bewildered back at her]? Well, I'd like to tell you something... GET ON THE BUS!...

"...[On the Bus, which is actually a Retro 5000 from the year 1885], Kiddies, I am very dissappointed in you. I mean, five minutes late, OK. 10 minutes late, neh, not bad. BUT 15 MINUTES!!! What were you thinking? Our poor driver [indicating the vagrant/hobo sat in the drivers seat] has been, errr, working all day and has been kind enough to take you, errr...."

"Did I tell you that I went to Valhallah, well...."

Valhallah Tales - Part Two of the Series

Howdy! Yup, we're back again, bringing you the latest Marta stupidity, live from the archives of our memories.

"...So kiddies, are you listening to me? Well, once I arrived in
Valhallah, I walked over to er....................................... [Our
teacher prods her awake] er... a donkey. But this is a special donkey in
Iceland. Do you know why kiddies? [Several people make stupid suggestions which
she takes as genuine] No kiddies, ha, you're all so funny. No, this donkey
produces ale when you pull on a lever, yes, a lever attached to it.
Hmmm..."

"...So after I drank a lot of goat-ale, I continued on my journey
and I arrived at a house. It was the house of the first president of Iceland,
who I met at University. He was best friend of mine, er...., yes. So, I said
hallo and he said-

"LEFT KIDDIES! ACH!..."

"...so he said, Hallo Marta!
Gothen Tack! Are you carrying my fishkin boots? I feel a need to walk a
mountain. Well, I said, of course. I carry them with me everyday, but I forget
them today. Err...."

If this particular tale seemed kinda pointless, don't worry. We thought so too. :)

Valhallah Tales - Chapter 1

Valhallah, the home of the Viking Gods. Or at least that's how we thought it was until Marta, our humbled Icelandic hostess, claimed she had, on numerous occasions, visited Valhallah. Yes, I know what you are [and we were] thinking. She was high. But alas, it is a story which must, I repeat must, be told. However, it is extemely lengthy and wierd, so spans over several posts. It may take several days, so we'll include several other stories in between. Thank you (especially) to the travel company that took us to Iceland for providing us with Marta as a host. It made the trip extemely memorable and -

"...Kiddies! Are you listening to me! I demand that you listen! And you Richard [In reference to our Geography teacher!]I want you all to listen to me! Now, when I was a little troll, I was walking along the road and suddenly, an eight legged horse fell from the sky!!! I did kiddies! Don't you doubt me! So, it was running along the ground, but only used one leg! Yes, the other seven were just flopping around.

"...So, I ran after it and jumped on its back and rode it! It was a super rodeo kiddies! What is it you say in these situations? Yee-Hah? Yes. So, it carried me up into the sky and the way up there, I came across a set of trolls. The day light was coming up and suddenly the trolls became rocks. Yep. You see that rock out of the window there? It is a troll at night. You see that mountain, it was actually a troll and travelled to that spot. Orignally, that mountain was over there. Suddenly, the horse broke in the barrier and I was in Valhallah..."

Whoo Hoo

From the makers of The Mr McLaughlin blog...

MARTA!!!

Yes, Marta, the one and only Icelandic lady we all know and love. This blog will be dedicated to her and all of her funny speeches and quirks.

Learn how she always caries a pair of fish-skin boots around with her (but on the day she told us actually forgot them), how she visited Valhallah and how her dream in life was to play golf on the lavafields at midnight... (no joke)