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De förstörde Cyrodiil genom att försöka vara LotR, de förstörde The Mages Guild genom att försöka vara Harry Potter och de förstörde befolkningen genom att försöka vara skumma reklamer från 70-80 talet. I nesta spel kommer de fan retconna Morag Tong att vara som i Maffix.
"Har du hört om ammoniak plus?" "Löjligt" "Nej. Det är inte löjligt" (osv. osv...) Hade gärna sett ett mod som ersatte alla sådana konversationer i oblivion med bitar från gamla svenska reklamer haha
Fun fact: berättarrösten i reklamen om bilbälten var Jan Nygren (må han vila i frid) Och han har gjort en mängd svenska dubbningar i kända barnprogram såsom James Bond Jr, Karlsson på Taket, originalserien av Thunderbirds osv. Man undrar verkligen hur mycket han fått betalt för att vara med i den här reklamen
14:50 Thore Skogman hade en slags revival vid den här tiden med en smått tyngre framtoning... med tonvis av glimten i ögat. Faktum är att vi försökte få tag i honom till vårt spex 1993 men han hade för många gig... som 62-åring. Han har för övrig minst 1300 låtar reggade på STIM. En jävla legend ska jag säga.
Kommer osökt att tänka på det postuma prakalbumet "Thore goes Metal." För att parafrasera Clarkes "Sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic" "Oändligt hög självdistans är omöjligt att skilja från oändligt låg självdistans"
Besviken att ni inte hade mer att säga om djupfryst, konserverad, koncentrerad juice. Liknar inte Tempos reklam där de förklarar reglerna lite NetOnNet:s reklamer, där de har fokus på hur det blir billigt då de bara är lagershop? Jag har någonting som kallas Colombia-kaffe på Hemköp. Borde inte det vara samma sak.
Vad är er adress. ska skicka 400 g Colombia kaffe till er. Går att köpa 24 kg för 5200 kr. Tyvärr har inte så mycket pengar, men annars kunde ni leva av Colombia kaffe forever
09:57 Det där var en highlight för mig, men inte p.g.a. kommentaren utan för att jag förväntade mig inte att se en ikon för spelet "Dauntless". XD 13:21 Jag kan fullt relatera till Felix här. Hade problem med acne som tonåring och provade olika krämer och hudvård som funkade helt enkelt inte medan en eller två sved så jag ville helst inte använda dom. Jag använde sedan tabletter men en gav mig torra läppar som besvärlig bieffekt så jag måste sluta med dom. Nu har jag annan sorts tabletter sedan några år tillbaka som funkar helt okej utan vidare bieffekter. Det är bara lite irriterande att svälja ner för det är en ganska stor kapsyl som kan "irritera" svalget/tarmen så jag behöver dricka mycket vatten för att svälja den fort som f*n. XD
det där är ju sådant kök som mitt fina kök där hemma där man bor och så ska det se ut i kök inte detta moderna gråa skitit i mitt kök, grått är faktiskt en grund- färg allså vitt med mycket svart blandat tillsammans så det så, fatta vilken allså !
Skulle det inte vara intressant att se Felix recensera en faktiskt bra film för att se vad som gör en bra film till bra? Det skulle iallafall jag kolla på
Basse: ''hon bara släppte korgen där'' Felix: ''Det tar ju någon slav där borta sen'' Det händer fortfarande haha xD mvh en som jobbar inom Coop konsum :p
Lite orelaterat men jag skulle uppskatta om någon skulle kunna länka eller svara på denna kommentar om ni hittar/har någon video från Rock-SM 87. Min farsa spelade där och vann med hans band Silver Wings och jag skulle vilja se om jag kan hitta något från det som en födelsedagsöverraskning till honom.
Under klipptiden 15:35. Var det någon mer än jag som märkte att bakgrundsmusiken var lik från denna Disney Fantasia Video th-cam.com/video/l_EDBM1tOEo/w-d-xo.html
Tyckte denna video var lite _för_ aggressivt klippt, när man jämför med de andra i samma "serie". Var ibland svårt att förstå kontexten och skulle vara kul att få se lite mer av reklamena. Förstår självfallet att det är en balans och att man måste klippa bort vissa saker, men just denna video så var det lite för mycket som strök med.
Farsan förklarade Rock-SM 88s reklam. Tydligen var det mest en musiktävling hellre än en rocktävling och många rappare och hip-hop grupper deltog i tävlingen så det är troligtvis därför reklamen ser ut som den gör. Fortfarande cringe men ändå intressant information
Den först sidan av harry potter THE WORST BIRTHDAY Not for the first time, an argument had broken out over breakfast at number four, Privet Drive. Mr. Vernon Dursley had been woken in the early hours of the morning by a loud, hooting noise from his nephew Harry's room. "Third time this week!" he roared across the table. "If you can't control that owl, it'll have to go!" Harry tried, yet again, to explain. "She's bored," he said. "She's used to flying around outside. If I could just let her out at night -" "Do I look stupid?" snarled Uncle Vernon, a bit of fried egg dangling from his bushy mustache. "I know what'll happen if that owl's let out." He exchanged dark looks with his wife, Petunia. Harry tried to argue back but his words were drowned by a long, loud belch from the Dursleys' son, Dudley. 1 "I want more bacon." "There's more in the frying pan, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia, turning misty eyes on her massive son. "We must build you up while we've got the chance .... I don't like the sound of that school food ......" "Nonsense, Petunia, I never went hungry when I was at Smeltings," said Uncle Vernon heartily. "Dudley gets enough, don't you, son?" Dudley, who was so large his bottom drooped over either side of the kitchen chair, grinned and turned to Harry. "Pass the frying pan." "You've forgotten the magic word," said Harry irritably. The effect of this simple sentence on the rest of the family was incredible: Dudley gasped and fell off his chair with a crash that shook the whole kitchen; Mrs. Dursley gave a small scream and clapped her hands to her mouth; Mr. Dursley jumped to his feet, veins throbbing in his temples. "I meant `please'!" said Harry quickly. "I didn't mean -" "WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU," thundered his uncle, spraying spit over the table, "ABOUT SAYING THE `M' WORD IN OUR HOUSE?" "But I -" "HOW DARE YOU THREATEN DUDLEY!" roared Uncle Vernon, pounding the table with his fist. "I just -" "I WARNED YOU! I WILL NOT TOLERATE MENTION OF YOUR ABNORMALITY UNDER THIS ROOF!" Harry stared from his purple-faced uncle to his pale aunt, who was trying to heave Dudley to his feet. "All right," said Harry, "all right. . . "
Uncle Vernon sat back down, breathing like a winded rhinoceros and watching Harry closely out of the corners of his small, sharp eyes. Ever since Harry had come home for the summer holidays, Uncle Vernon had been treating him like a bomb that might go off at any moment, because Harry Potter wasn't a normal boy. As a matter of fact, he was as not normal as it is possible to be. Harry Potter was a wizard - a wizard fresh from his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And if the Dursleys were unhappy to have him back for the holidays, it was nothing to how Harry felt. He missed Hogwarts so much it was like having a constant stomachache. He missed the castle, with its secret passageways and ghosts, his classes (though perhaps not Snape, the Potions master), the mail arriving by owl, eating banquets in the Great Hall, sleeping in his four-poster bed in the tower dormitory, visiting the gamekeeper, Hagrid, in his cabin next to the Forbidden Forest in the grounds, and, especially, Quidditch, the most popular sport in the wizarding world (six tall goal posts, four flying balls, and fourteen players on broomsticks). All Harry's spellbooks, his wand, robes, cauldron, and top-of-the-line Nimbus Two Thousand broomstick had been locked in a cupboard under the stairs by Uncle Vernon the instant Harry had come home. What did the Dursleys care if Harry lost his place on the House Quidditch team because he hadn't practiced all summer? What was it to the Dursleys if Harry went back to school without any of his homework done? The Dursleys were what wizards called Muggles (not a drop of magical blood in their veins), and as far as they were concerned, having a wizard in the family was a matter of deepest shame. Uncle Vernon had even padlocked Harry's owl, Hedwig, inside her cage, to stop her from carrying messages to anyone in the wizarding world. Harry looked nothing like the rest of the family. Uncle Vernon was large and neckless, with an enormous black mustache; Aunt Petunia was horse-faced and bony; Dudley was blond, pink, and porky. Harry, on the other hand, was small and skinny, with brilliant green eyes and jet-black hair that was always untidy. He wore round glasses, and on his forehead was a thin, lightning-shaped scar. It was this scar that made Harry so particularly unusual, even for a wizard. This scar was the only hint of Harry's very mysterious past, of the reason he had been left on the Dursleys' doorstep eleven years before. At the age of one year old, Harry had somehow survived a curse from the greatest Dark sorcerer of all time, Lord Voldemort, whose name most witches and wizards still feared to speak. Harry's parents had died in Voldemort's attack, but Harry had escaped with his lightning scar, and somehow - nobody understood why Voldemort's powers had been destroyed the instant he had failed to kill Harry. So Harry had been brought up by his dead mother's sister and her husband. He had spent ten years with the Dursleys, never understanding why he kept making odd things happen without meaning to, believing the Dursleys' story that he had got his scar in the car crash that had killed his parents.
And then, exactly a year ago, Hogwarts had written to Harry, and the whole story had come out. Harry had taken up his place at wizard school, where he and his scar were famous ... but now the school year was over, and he was back with the Dursleys for the summer, back to being treated like a dog that had rolled in something smelly. The Dursleys hadn't even remembered that today happened to be Harry's twelfth birthday. Of course, his hopes hadn't been high; they'd never given him a real present, let alone a cake - but to ignore it completely ... At that moment, Uncle Vernon cleared his throat importantly and said, "Now, as we all know, today is a very important day." Harry looked up, hardly daring to believe it. "This could well be the day I make the biggest deal of my career, " said Uncle Vernon. Harry went back to his toast. Of course, he thought bitterly, Un cle Vernon was talking about the stupid dinner party. He'd been talk ing of nothing else for two weeks. Some rich builder and his wife were coming to dinner and Uncle Vernon was hoping to get a huge order from him (Uncle Vernon's company made drills). "I think we should run through the schedule one more time," said Uncle Vernon. "We should all be in position at eight o'clock. Petunia, you will be -?" "In the lounge," said Aunt Petunia promptly, "waiting to welcome them graciously to our home." "Good, good. And Dudley?" "I'll be waiting to open the door." Dudley put on a foul, simpering smile. "May I take your coats, Mr. and Mrs. Mason?" "They'll love him!" cried Aunt Petunia rapturously. "Excellent, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon. Then he rounded on Harry. "And you?" "I'll be in my bedroom, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," said Harry tonelessly. "Exactly," said Uncle Vernon nastily. "I will lead them into the lounge, introduce you, Petunia, and pour them -drinks. At eight- fifteen -" "I'll announce dinner," said Aunt Petunia. "And, Dudley, you'll say -" "May I take you through to the dining room, Mrs. Mason?" said Dudley, offering his fat arm to an invisible woman. "My perfect little gentleman!" sniffed Aunt Petunia. "And you?" said Uncle Vernon viciously to Harry. "I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," said Harry dully. "Precisely. Now, we should aim to get in a few good compliments at dinner. Petunia, any ideas?" "Vernon tells me you're a wonderful golfer, Mr. Mason.... Do tell me where you bought your dress, Mrs. Mason ...... "Perfect. . . Dudley?" "How about -'We had to write an essay about our hero at school, Mr. Mason, and I wrote about you."' This was too much for both Aunt Petunia and Harry. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and hugged her son, while Harry ducked under the table so they wouldn't see him laughing. "And you, boy?"
Harry fought to keep his face straight as he emerged. "I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," he said. "Too right, you will," said Uncle Vernon forcefully. "The Ma sons don't know anything about you and it's going to stay that way. When dinner's over, you take Mrs. Mason back to the lounge for coffee, Petunia, and I'll bring the subject around to drills. With any luck, I'll have the deal signed and sealed before the news at ten. be shopping for a vacation home in Majorca this time to morrow. Harry couldn't feel too excited about this. He didn't think the Dursleys would like him any better in Majorca than they did on Privet Drive. "Right - I'm off into town to pick up the dinner jackets for Dudley and me. And you," he snarled at Harry. "You stay out of your aunt's way while she's cleaning." Harry left through the back door. It was a brilliant, sunny day. He crossed the lawn, slumped down on the garden bench, and sang under his breath: "Happy birthday to me ... happy birthday to me. . . No cards, no presents, and he would be spending the evening pretending not to exist. He gazed miserably into the hedge. He had never felt so lonely. More than anything else at Hogwarts, more even than playing Quidditch, Harry missed his best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. They, however, didn't seem to be missing him at all. Neither of them had written to him all summer, even though Ron had said he was going to ask Harry to come and stay. Countless times, Harry had been on the point of unlocking Hedwig's cage by magic and sending her to Ron and Hermione with a letter, but it wasn't worth the risk. Underage wizards weren't allowed to use magic outside of school. Harry hadn't told the Dursleys this; he knew it was only their terror that he might turn them all into dung beetles that stopped them from locking him in the cupboard under the stairs with his wand and broomstick. For the first couple of weeks back, Harry had enjoyed muttering nonsense words under his breath and watching Dudley tearing out of the room as fast as his fat legs would carry him. But the long silence from Ron and Hermione had made Harry feel so cut off from the magical world that even taunting Dudley had lost its appeal - and now Ron and Hermione had forgotten his birthday. What wouldn't he give now for a message from Hogwarts? From any witch or wizard? He'd almost be glad of a sight of his archenemy, Draco Malfoy, just to be sure it hadn't all been a dream .... Not that his whole year at Hogwarts had been fun. At the very end of last term, Harry had come face-to-face with none other than Lord Voldemort himself. Voldemort might be a ruin of his former self, but he was still terrifying, still cunning, still determined to regain power. Harry had slipped through Voldemort's clutches for a second time, but it had been a narrow escape, and even now, weeks later, Harry kept waking in the night, drenched in cold sweat, wondering where Voldemort was now, remembering his livid face, his wide, mad eyes Harry suddenly sat bolt upright on the garden bench. He had been staring absent-mindedly into the hedge - and the hedge was staring back. Two enormous green eyes had appeared among the leaves. Harry jumped to his feet just as a jeering voice floated across the lawn. "I know what day it is," sang Dudley, waddling toward him. The huge eyes blinked and vanished. "What?" said Harry, not taking his eyes off the spot where they had been. "I know what day it is," Dudley repeated, coming right up to him. "Well done," said Harry. "So you've finally learned the days of the week." "Today's your birthday," sneered Dudley. "How come you haven't got any cards? Haven't you even got friends at that freak place?" "Better not let your mum hear you talking about my school," said Harry coolly. Dudley hitched up his trousers, which were slipping down his fat bottom. "Why're you staring at the hedge?" he said suspiciously. "I'm trying to decide what would be the best spell to set it on fire," said Harry. Dudley stumbled backward at once, a look of panic on his fat face. "You c-can't - Dad told you you're not to do m-magic - he said he'll chuck you out of the house - and you haven't got anywhere else to go - you haven't got any friends to take you -" "Jiggery pokery!" said Harry in a fierce voice. "Hocus pocus squiggly wiggly -" "MUUUUUUM!" howled Dudley, tripping over his feet as he dashed back toward the house. "MUUUUM! He's doing you know what!" Harry paid dearly for his moment of fun. As neither Dudley nor the hedge was in any way hurt, Aunt Petunia knew he hadn't really done magic, but he still had to duck as she aimed a heavy blow at his head with the soapy frying pan. Then she gave him work to do, with the promise he wouldn't eat again until he'd finished. While Dudley lolled around watching and eating ice cream, Harry cleaned the windows, washed the car, mowed the lawn, trimmed the flowerbeds, pruned and watered the roses, and repainted the garden bench. The sun blazed overhead, burning the back of his neck. Harry knew he shouldn't have risen to Dudley's bait, but Dudley had said the very thing Harry had been thinking himself... maybe he didn't have any friends at Hogwarts ....
Wish they could see famous Harry Potter now, he thought savagely as he spread manure on the flower beds, his back aching, sweat running down his face. It was half past seven ,in the evening when at last, exhausted, he heard Aunt Petunia calling him. "Get in here! And walk on the newspaper!" Harry moved gladly into the shade of the gleaming kitchen. On top of the fridge stood tonight's pudding: a huge mound of whipped cream and sugared violets. A loin of roast pork was sizzling in the oven. "Eat quickly! The Masons will be here soon!" snapped Aunt Petunia, pointing to two slices of bread and a lump of cheese on the kitchen table. She was already wearing a salmon-pink cocktail dress. Harry washed his hands and bolted down his pitiful supper. The moment he had finished, Aunt Petunia whisked away his plate. "Upstairs! Hurry!" As he passed the door to the living room, Harry caught a glimpse of Uncle Vernon and Dudley in bow ties and dinner jack ets. He had only just reached the upstairs landing when the door bell rang and Uncle Vernon's furious face appeared at the foot of the stairs. "Remember, boy - one sound -" Harry crossed to his bedroom on tiptoe slipped inside, closed the door, and turned to collapse on his bed. The trouble was, there was already someone sitting on it.
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Kan ni inte bara ladda upp alla blockade videor på dailymotion som ni gjorde med klassen videorna? Alla har ju inte möjligheten att skaffa en VPN tjänst
@@viggolegoman4411 kommer
5:34 det här refererar då inte till Findus (varumärket) utan till Findus (katten), vi vet ju alla att Pettson och Findus uppfann fryst juice.
30:e november är också blockad.. Hade SF inget att göra nu under pandemin och tänkte att vi copyright claimar recensioner från 2012?
Felix Nordh VPN
Varför var det bland det roligaste jag läst på länge?
Grattis, du fick ett skratt ur mig 😂
Grattis. Kom du på det helt själv eller fick du hjälp av din lillebror?
@@NostalgiNorden Din mamma hjälpte mig.
Huu... *arg tummen up*
Bethesda hade svenskarna på 70 o 80-talet som inspiration för oblivions artificiella intelligens beteende.
"Låt mig gissa. Nån har stulit din syltsnibb?"
Är jag full eller läste jag det där precis
De förstörde Cyrodiil genom att försöka vara LotR, de förstörde The Mages Guild genom att försöka vara Harry Potter och de förstörde befolkningen genom att försöka vara skumma reklamer från 70-80 talet.
I nesta spel kommer de fan retconna Morag Tong att vara som i Maffix.
@@spelareNR14 "Hejdå!"
"Har du hört om ammoniak plus?"
"Löjligt"
"Nej. Det är inte löjligt"
(osv. osv...)
Hade gärna sett ett mod som ersatte alla sådana konversationer i oblivion med bitar från gamla svenska reklamer haha
"Björn" låter lite som en ung Magnus Uggla "harunte snacka' me morsan än"
Det var inte mycket jobb Pelle från Saltkråkan kunde få efter målbrottet du😄
@@ludvigroos8716 nej han fick väl ta vad mög som fanns :-)
BASSErat på vilka videor som kommer upp i Basses recommended tycker jag han har väldigt bra smak gällande kreatörer
Det brukar jag också tänka på 🙂
Fun fact: berättarrösten i reklamen om bilbälten var Jan Nygren (må han vila i frid) Och han har gjort en mängd svenska dubbningar i kända barnprogram såsom James Bond Jr, Karlsson på Taket, originalserien av Thunderbirds osv. Man undrar verkligen hur mycket han fått betalt för att vara med i den här reklamen
Också röster till teleskop-snubben i levande böckers Rymndjakten
@@thecrazything95 ...och skelettet Benjamin i Den fantastiska kroppen
Och han spelade överläraren i Madicken.
"Nej, det är *inte* löjligt."
"Det är knas."
Nämen!!! En till sån här video?! På en måndag?? Nämen man tackar!! 🥰🥰🥰
14:50 Thore Skogman hade en slags revival vid den här tiden med en smått tyngre framtoning... med tonvis av glimten i ögat. Faktum är att vi försökte få tag i honom till vårt spex 1993 men han hade för många gig... som 62-åring. Han har för övrig minst 1300 låtar reggade på STIM. En jävla legend ska jag säga.
Kommer osökt att tänka på det postuma prakalbumet "Thore goes Metal."
För att parafrasera Clarkes "Sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic"
"Oändligt hög självdistans är omöjligt att skilja från oändligt låg självdistans"
Lyssnar just nu på er ljudbok... Helt underbar och underbar uppläsare!!
Äntligen fler reklamer!!!!
Besviken att ni inte hade mer att säga om djupfryst, konserverad, koncentrerad juice.
Liknar inte Tempos reklam där de förklarar reglerna lite NetOnNet:s reklamer, där de har fokus på hur det blir billigt då de bara är lagershop?
Jag har någonting som kallas Colombia-kaffe på Hemköp. Borde inte det vara samma sak.
Dessa reklamer har som ett eget universum. Skulle kunna ha en wiki.
"Mannen bakom Tempo" låter lite som
"Snubben bakom Konsum"
Om man bad en unge rita en chef så ritar de den gubben
Han investerade pengarna från sin knarkförsäljning i rätt idé.
Alltid skumma folk bakom konsum 🤔
Skor som är vackra att se på OCH sköna att gå i? Nej, men de måste jag ju ha! 😂
Jag undrade en stund vad Basonafläsk va för nåt, gissar att det var Bacon det rörde sig om.
9:34 Hon har använt en duschorama ju
Älskar mitt korvskåp.
@@hellokittygirlfinalboss exakt!
vid 9:00 vad fan är det för reklam egentligen för Comfort
Den tidens JOI
@@ENKTDeeColon_and_randomnumbers PRECIS vad jag tänkte hahaha
Vad är er adress. ska skicka 400 g Colombia kaffe till er. Går att köpa 24 kg för 5200 kr. Tyvärr har inte så mycket pengar, men annars kunde ni leva av Colombia kaffe forever
Står i videobeskrivningen
Gå in på valfri unboxing-video så finns adressen till deras postbox i beskrivningen.
Var det ditt finniga tonårsansikte Barbie syftade på i Barbie:Dagbok: ”Jag måste ha vanprydande utslag”. ?
0:00 MonteFjantons nya intro
kunde ni inte nämna att grabben i början är pelle från "vi på saltkråkan"
Thore fucking Skogman!! Vilken legend...
0:40 det är ju Pelle från Saltkråkan🤣
Påls Finbageri, Ajax och Nytto är ju från samma kök, med samma skådespelare.
Jag har en T-shirt det står T-tröja på.
Äntligen mer skuma reklamer
pojken i första reklamfilmen måste vara Saltkråkan Pelle!
Ja det är det.
Fan, ni får en alltid att skratta
17:46 Är det där Lars Brandeby?
Under hela min barndom fick jag höra att "Kineser minsann borstade tänderna med kiss förr i tiden"
Så ligger nog sanning i det från säkra källor ;)
Killen i början är Pelle från Saltkråkan
Inga reflektioner över att det var Pelle i Vi på Saltkråkan som var med först och sa "Jag heter Björn"? :D
13:20-13:55 jag tror jag aldrig hållit med om nånting mer i mitt liv någonsin
Älskar er kanal!
@Montefjanton när kommer nästa Atlantis let's play? :D
06:39 Den ungen blev traumatiserad för resten av livet
2:03 Karlsson på taket voice over
09:57 Det där var en highlight för mig, men inte p.g.a. kommentaren utan för att jag förväntade mig inte att se en ikon för spelet "Dauntless". XD
13:21 Jag kan fullt relatera till Felix här. Hade problem med acne som tonåring och provade olika krämer och hudvård som funkade helt enkelt inte medan en eller två sved så jag ville helst inte använda dom. Jag använde sedan tabletter men en gav mig torra läppar som besvärlig bieffekt så jag måste sluta med dom. Nu har jag annan sorts tabletter sedan några år tillbaka som funkar helt okej utan vidare bieffekter. Det är bara lite irriterande att svälja ner för det är en ganska stor kapsyl som kan "irritera" svalget/tarmen så jag behöver dricka mycket vatten för att svälja den fort som f*n. XD
Colombiakaffe finns på Ica tror jag. Av Gevalia tror jag. Det finns i Borås så det borde det göra i Hässleholm också
Hahaha 😄😆 -det finns tyvärr fortfarande sådana här kök
Det finns en reklam för Wasa knäcke från 80-talet, med Svullo (om ni känner till han?). Sök upp den till nästa reaktionsvideo.
Älskar reklamerna!!!
Du kan nog köpa Colombia-kaffe på Gevalias hemsida.
Att ha en 60-tals pappa är ju bra efter dessa videor för då kan man ju faktiskt få veta att ja- detta var normalt. (Iallafall maten)
Gevalia har Colombia kaffe i nästan varje matbutik, fy fan vidrigaste möget jag druckit
3:00, är inte det han från Flen och spelmästaren i Atlantis 1? (rösten).
Helt underbart
det där är ju sådant kök som mitt fina kök där hemma där man bor och så ska det se ut i kök inte detta moderna gråa skitit i mitt kök, grått är faktiskt en grund- färg allså vitt med mycket svart blandat tillsammans så det så, fatta vilken allså !
är hon i tempo reklamen(sov gav ungen örfil) inte hon som backade pulver kakor?
Inga Gill.
är det pelle från saltkråkan...?
09:40 det bris mat utan tvekan.👍🏻
Skulle det inte vara intressant att se Felix recensera en faktiskt bra film för att se vad som gör en bra film till bra? Det skulle iallafall jag kolla på
flera reklamer tack !
Min syrra brukade kalla syltsnibbar för syltsnippor😭
Basse borde verkligen öppna restaurang.
Vaf... det där cylindaköket har ju samma köksfläkt med trähylla som jag har i mitt kök :3
Och äppelpanelen har vi uppe vid sommarstugan X3
9:00 Jag hoppas att ingen har lika fruktansvärd fantasi som jag.
pelle från vi på Saltkråkan har praktiserat på påls finbageri 😊
10:39 Är det där Ernst-Hugo Järegård? Tjahapp.
Hon kärringen i acnereklamen är ju hon som spelade Berts farmor
Varför hjälper inte dom som filmar Felix och Basse att tillaga filé surabaja?
Varför får inte dem som filmar smaka på syltsnibbarna?
@@agoldenage9918 De måste först äta upp sin filé surabaja och köpa frukt för fem öre.
@@JohnnyJoe Sant förstås 😆
Konsums heilskola hahahaha😂
Mer !!
Basse:
''hon bara släppte korgen där''
Felix:
''Det tar ju någon slav där borta sen''
Det händer fortfarande haha xD mvh en som jobbar inom Coop konsum :p
0:53 visst fan är det Saltkråkann Pelle❓ ⭐⭐⭐
Kan du recenserar den nya Bert filmen mot den gamla?
Lite orelaterat men jag skulle uppskatta om någon skulle kunna länka eller svara på denna kommentar om ni hittar/har någon video från Rock-SM 87. Min farsa spelade där och vann med hans band Silver Wings och jag skulle vilja se om jag kan hitta något från det som en födelsedagsöverraskning till honom.
Man kan nästan ana att "Björn" är nära att börja skratta vid 0:43.
Thore Skogman! 😃
14:44 😂😂😂😂
12:48 va precis vad jag tänkte
Jag dör 😂😂😂
Under klipptiden 15:35. Var det någon mer än jag som märkte att bakgrundsmusiken var lik från denna Disney Fantasia Video th-cam.com/video/l_EDBM1tOEo/w-d-xo.html
SNÄLLA REAGERA PÅ YOUNG ROYALS!!! 😂😂😂pls
Gillar du gemensam handling och låga priser rösta på vänster partiet
Gummifabriken i Gislaved jag bor vid den
När kommer första intrycket och felix recenserar på festen 3??🤔
👏 midnatts lets play 👏
4:42 min pappa får plats med 7kg i tvättmaskinen
skorppropaganda var inte ett ord jag trodde jag skulle få höra någonsin
Resensera not too Young på youtube
Tyckte denna video var lite _för_ aggressivt klippt, när man jämför med de andra i samma "serie". Var ibland svårt att förstå kontexten och skulle vara kul att få se lite mer av reklamena. Förstår självfallet att det är en balans och att man måste klippa bort vissa saker, men just denna video så var det lite för mycket som strök med.
Okej men du MÅSTE recensera Young royals, du har inget val
Skånes stolthet
Jag har en heltäckningsmatta på mitt rum… ja…
14:43 Snacka om att vara i otakt
pHiseHex - När du vill vara finnfri när du racar på Göta Kanal!
*1 dislike*
Nu får ju SF lugna ner sig.
Har Sverige ingen motsvarande "Fair Use"-lag som flrhindrar att företag kan gå in och ta ner videor som Hip Hip Hora-recensionen?
Nej, Sveriges lagar brukar vara allmänt sunkiga. Det finns typ en motsvarighet men det gäller specifikt inte digitala medier.
Rescencera Dr Mugg för fan!
Findus kan också vara katten
Pettson och Findus var iofs inte uppfunnet än.
11:18
Farsan förklarade Rock-SM 88s reklam. Tydligen var det mest en musiktävling hellre än en rocktävling och många rappare och hip-hop grupper deltog i tävlingen så det är troligtvis därför reklamen ser ut som den gör.
Fortfarande cringe men ändå intressant information
Ressensera den bästa fimen nånsin, Who killed captin Alex? Finns på TH-cam.
Den först sidan av harry potter
THE WORST BIRTHDAY
Not for the first time, an argument had broken out over breakfast at number four, Privet Drive. Mr. Vernon Dursley had been woken in the early hours of the morning by a loud, hooting noise from his nephew Harry's room.
"Third time this week!" he roared across the table. "If you can't control that owl, it'll have to go!"
Harry tried, yet again, to explain.
"She's bored," he said. "She's used to flying around outside. If I could just let her out at night -"
"Do I look stupid?" snarled Uncle Vernon, a bit of fried egg dangling from his bushy mustache. "I know what'll happen if that owl's let out."
He exchanged dark looks with his wife, Petunia.
Harry tried to argue back but his words were drowned by a long, loud belch from the Dursleys' son, Dudley.
1
"I want more bacon."
"There's more in the frying pan, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia, turning misty eyes on her massive son. "We must build you up while we've got the chance .... I don't like the sound of that school food ......"
"Nonsense, Petunia, I never went hungry when I was at Smeltings," said Uncle Vernon heartily. "Dudley gets enough, don't you, son?"
Dudley, who was so large his bottom drooped over either side of the kitchen chair, grinned and turned to Harry.
"Pass the frying pan."
"You've forgotten the magic word," said Harry irritably.
The effect of this simple sentence on the rest of the family was incredible: Dudley gasped and fell off his chair with a crash that shook the whole kitchen; Mrs. Dursley gave a small scream and clapped her hands to her mouth; Mr. Dursley jumped to his feet, veins throbbing in his temples.
"I meant `please'!" said Harry quickly. "I didn't mean -"
"WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU," thundered his uncle, spraying spit over the table, "ABOUT SAYING THE `M' WORD IN OUR HOUSE?"
"But I -"
"HOW DARE YOU THREATEN DUDLEY!" roared Uncle Vernon, pounding the table with his fist.
"I just -"
"I WARNED YOU! I WILL NOT TOLERATE MENTION OF YOUR ABNORMALITY UNDER THIS ROOF!"
Harry stared from his purple-faced uncle to his pale aunt, who was trying to heave Dudley to his feet.
"All right," said Harry, "all right. . . "
Uncle Vernon sat back down, breathing like a winded rhinoceros and watching Harry closely out of the corners of his small, sharp eyes.
Ever since Harry had come home for the summer holidays, Uncle Vernon had been treating him like a bomb that might go off at any moment, because Harry Potter wasn't a normal boy. As a matter of fact, he was as not normal as it is possible to be.
Harry Potter was a wizard - a wizard fresh from his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And if the Dursleys were unhappy to have him back for the holidays, it was nothing to how Harry felt.
He missed Hogwarts so much it was like having a constant stomachache. He missed the castle, with its secret passageways and ghosts, his classes (though perhaps not Snape, the Potions master), the mail arriving by owl, eating banquets in the Great Hall, sleeping in his four-poster bed in the tower dormitory, visiting the gamekeeper, Hagrid, in his cabin next to the Forbidden Forest in the grounds, and, especially, Quidditch, the most popular sport in the wizarding world (six tall goal posts, four flying balls, and fourteen players on broomsticks).
All Harry's spellbooks, his wand, robes, cauldron, and top-of-the-line Nimbus Two Thousand broomstick had been locked in a cupboard under the stairs by Uncle Vernon the instant Harry had come home. What did the Dursleys care if Harry lost his place on the House Quidditch team because he hadn't practiced all summer? What was it to the Dursleys if Harry went back to school without any of his homework done? The Dursleys were what wizards called Muggles (not a drop of magical blood in their veins),
and as far as they were concerned, having a wizard in the family was a matter of deepest shame. Uncle Vernon had even padlocked Harry's owl, Hedwig, inside her cage, to stop her from carrying messages to anyone in the wizarding world.
Harry looked nothing like the rest of the family. Uncle Vernon was large and neckless, with an enormous black mustache; Aunt Petunia was horse-faced and bony; Dudley was blond, pink, and porky. Harry, on the other hand, was small and skinny, with brilliant green eyes and jet-black hair that was always untidy. He wore round glasses, and on his forehead was a thin, lightning-shaped scar.
It was this scar that made Harry so particularly unusual, even for a wizard. This scar was the only hint of Harry's very mysterious past, of the reason he had been left on the Dursleys' doorstep eleven years before.
At the age of one year old, Harry had somehow survived a curse from the greatest Dark sorcerer of all time, Lord Voldemort, whose name most witches and wizards still feared to speak. Harry's parents had died in Voldemort's attack, but Harry had escaped with his lightning scar, and somehow - nobody understood why Voldemort's powers had been destroyed the instant he had failed to kill Harry.
So Harry had been brought up by his dead mother's sister and her husband. He had spent ten years with the Dursleys, never understanding why he kept making odd things happen without meaning to, believing the Dursleys' story that he had got his scar in the car crash that had killed his parents.
And then, exactly a year ago, Hogwarts had written to Harry,
and the whole story had come out. Harry had taken up his place at wizard school, where he and his scar were famous ... but now the school year was over, and he was back with the Dursleys for the summer, back to being treated like a dog that had rolled in something smelly.
The Dursleys hadn't even remembered that today happened to be Harry's twelfth birthday. Of course, his hopes hadn't been high; they'd never given him a real present, let alone a cake - but to ignore it completely ...
At that moment, Uncle Vernon cleared his throat importantly and said, "Now, as we all know, today is a very important day."
Harry looked up, hardly daring to believe it.
"This could well be the day I make the biggest deal of my career, " said Uncle Vernon.
Harry went back to his toast. Of course, he thought bitterly, Un cle Vernon was talking about the stupid dinner party. He'd been talk ing of nothing else for two weeks. Some rich builder and his wife were coming to dinner and Uncle Vernon was hoping to get a huge order from him (Uncle Vernon's company made drills).
"I think we should run through the schedule one more time," said Uncle Vernon. "We should all be in position at eight o'clock. Petunia, you will be -?"
"In the lounge," said Aunt Petunia promptly, "waiting to welcome them graciously to our home."
"Good, good. And Dudley?"
"I'll be waiting to open the door." Dudley put on a foul, simpering smile. "May I take your coats, Mr. and Mrs. Mason?"
"They'll love him!" cried Aunt Petunia rapturously.
"Excellent, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon. Then he rounded on Harry. "And you?"
"I'll be in my bedroom, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," said Harry tonelessly.
"Exactly," said Uncle Vernon nastily. "I will lead them into the lounge, introduce you, Petunia, and pour them -drinks. At eight- fifteen -"
"I'll announce dinner," said Aunt Petunia.
"And, Dudley, you'll say -"
"May I take you through to the dining room, Mrs. Mason?" said Dudley, offering his fat arm to an invisible woman.
"My perfect little gentleman!" sniffed Aunt Petunia.
"And you?" said Uncle Vernon viciously to Harry.
"I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," said Harry dully.
"Precisely. Now, we should aim to get in a few good compliments at dinner. Petunia, any ideas?"
"Vernon tells me you're a wonderful golfer, Mr. Mason.... Do tell me where you bought your dress, Mrs. Mason ......
"Perfect. . . Dudley?"
"How about -'We had to write an essay about our hero at school, Mr. Mason, and I wrote about you."'
This was too much for both Aunt Petunia and Harry. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and hugged her son, while Harry ducked under the table so they wouldn't see him laughing.
"And you, boy?"
Harry fought to keep his face straight as he emerged.
"I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," he said.
"Too right, you will," said Uncle Vernon forcefully. "The Ma sons don't know anything about you and it's going to stay that way. When dinner's over, you take Mrs. Mason back to the lounge for coffee, Petunia, and I'll bring the subject around to drills. With any luck, I'll have the deal signed and sealed before the news at ten. be shopping for a vacation home in Majorca this time to morrow. Harry couldn't feel too excited about this. He didn't think the Dursleys would like him any better in Majorca than they did on Privet Drive. "Right - I'm off into town to pick up the dinner jackets for Dudley and me. And you," he snarled at Harry. "You stay out of your aunt's way while she's cleaning." Harry left through the back door. It was a brilliant, sunny day. He crossed the lawn, slumped down on the garden bench, and sang under his breath: "Happy birthday to me ... happy birthday to me. . . No cards, no presents, and he would be spending the evening pretending not to exist. He gazed miserably into the hedge. He had never felt so lonely. More than anything else at Hogwarts, more even than playing Quidditch, Harry missed his best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. They, however, didn't seem to be missing him at all. Neither of them had written to him all summer, even though Ron had said he was going to ask Harry to come and stay. Countless times, Harry had been on the point of unlocking Hedwig's cage by magic and sending her to Ron and Hermione with a letter, but it wasn't worth the risk. Underage wizards weren't allowed to use magic outside of school. Harry hadn't told the
Dursleys this; he knew it was only their terror that he might turn them all into dung beetles that stopped them from locking him in the cupboard under the stairs with his wand and broomstick. For the first couple of weeks back, Harry had enjoyed muttering nonsense words under his breath and watching Dudley tearing out of the room as fast as his fat legs would carry him. But the long silence from Ron and Hermione had made Harry feel so cut off from the magical world that even taunting Dudley had lost its appeal - and now Ron and Hermione had forgotten his birthday.
What wouldn't he give now for a message from Hogwarts? From any witch or wizard? He'd almost be glad of a sight of his archenemy, Draco Malfoy, just to be sure it hadn't all been a dream ....
Not that his whole year at Hogwarts had been fun. At the very end of last term, Harry had come face-to-face with none other than Lord Voldemort himself. Voldemort might be a ruin of his former self, but he was still terrifying, still cunning, still determined to regain power. Harry had slipped through Voldemort's clutches for a second time, but it had been a narrow escape, and even now, weeks later, Harry kept waking in the night, drenched in cold sweat, wondering where Voldemort was now, remembering his livid face, his wide, mad eyes
Harry suddenly sat bolt upright on the garden bench. He had been staring absent-mindedly into the hedge - and the hedge was staring back. Two enormous green eyes had appeared among the leaves.
Harry jumped to his feet just as a jeering voice floated across the lawn.
"I know what day it is," sang Dudley, waddling toward him.
The huge eyes blinked and vanished.
"What?" said Harry, not taking his eyes off the spot where they had been.
"I know what day it is," Dudley repeated, coming right up to him.
"Well done," said Harry. "So you've finally learned the days of the week."
"Today's your birthday," sneered Dudley. "How come you haven't got any cards? Haven't you even got friends at that freak place?"
"Better not let your mum hear you talking about my school," said Harry coolly.
Dudley hitched up his trousers, which were slipping down his fat bottom.
"Why're you staring at the hedge?" he said suspiciously.
"I'm trying to decide what would be the best spell to set it on fire," said Harry.
Dudley stumbled backward at once, a look of panic on his fat face.
"You c-can't - Dad told you you're not to do m-magic - he said he'll chuck you out of the house - and you haven't got anywhere else to go - you haven't got any friends to take you -"
"Jiggery pokery!" said Harry in a fierce voice. "Hocus pocus squiggly wiggly -"
"MUUUUUUM!" howled Dudley, tripping over his feet as he dashed back toward the house. "MUUUUM! He's doing you know what!"
Harry paid dearly for his moment of fun. As neither Dudley nor
the hedge was in any way hurt, Aunt Petunia knew he hadn't really done magic, but he still had to duck as she aimed a heavy blow at his head with the soapy frying pan. Then she gave him work to do, with the promise he wouldn't eat again until he'd finished.
While Dudley lolled around watching and eating ice cream, Harry cleaned the windows, washed the car, mowed the lawn, trimmed the flowerbeds, pruned and watered the roses, and repainted the garden bench. The sun blazed overhead, burning the back of his neck. Harry knew he shouldn't have risen to Dudley's bait, but Dudley had said the very thing Harry had been thinking himself... maybe he didn't have any friends at Hogwarts ....
Wish they could see famous Harry Potter now, he thought savagely as he spread manure on the flower beds, his back aching, sweat running down his face.
It was half past seven ,in the evening when at last, exhausted, he heard Aunt Petunia calling him.
"Get in here! And walk on the newspaper!"
Harry moved gladly into the shade of the gleaming kitchen. On top of the fridge stood tonight's pudding: a huge mound of whipped cream and sugared violets. A loin of roast pork was sizzling in the oven.
"Eat quickly! The Masons will be here soon!" snapped Aunt Petunia, pointing to two slices of bread and a lump of cheese on the kitchen table. She was already wearing a salmon-pink cocktail dress.
Harry washed his hands and bolted down his pitiful supper. The moment he had finished, Aunt Petunia whisked away his plate. "Upstairs! Hurry!"
As he passed the door to the living room, Harry caught a glimpse of Uncle Vernon and Dudley in bow ties and dinner jack ets. He had only just reached the upstairs landing when the door bell rang and Uncle Vernon's furious face appeared at the foot of the stairs. "Remember, boy - one sound -" Harry crossed to his bedroom on tiptoe slipped inside, closed the door, and turned to collapse on his bed. The trouble was, there was already someone sitting on it.
Bilbältestestare... det blir inte kul om bältet inte fungerar.
Gratis flygtur.
shhahapp