My Buddy…

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A buddy of mine asked me today if this has ever happened to me…

Ever bring a girl home after a club for a cup of tea shall we say. Ye both decide its best that she doesnt stay the whole night as you must get up early to go job hunting. On a Sunday morning. So after ye both finish your tea, she’s getting ready to leave. You start to get a paranoid, only just met her, better make sure nothing is going missing. Check for the phone, I-pod, passport, wallet…no sign of the wallet. Not to worry, its definitely here, you took it out after getting out of the cab. Checking everywhere, no sign. Only one conclusion, she must have it.
You subtly broach the question could she dump her bag out to make sure your wallet isn’t in there. Still no sign, and you never knew a girl’s handbag could hold so much pointless stuff. The wallet has to be somewhere, you definitely had it. Maybe she has it on her, hidden somewhere in her clothing perhaps. By mistake of course. Again, you broach the question would she mind being frisked for it. Padded down, no sign, although she’s getting flustered now saying she could understand why she’s would look suspicious if it had gone missing, just met and all. You tell her she better leave, the cab is there anyways. I’ll call you, kind of thing. Missing wallet does not lead to a second cup of tea. Thankfully she wasn’t asked to stay for a morning cup.
Cab pulls off, you go back to your room, decide to fold away your t-shirt before you go to bed. You put it back on the t-shirt pile  to notice a lump underneath one of your t-shirts. Wonder what that could be… the missing wallet. That’s right, you had stashed it earlier to make sure it wouldn’t be taken and no embarrassing accusations could be made.
I told my friend no, that had never happened to me. Cant remember which friend it was who asked me though.
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Find Me A Job!!!

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Job hunting in LA for something cheap and cheerful is turning out to be nigh on impossible. After trying the old reliable Irish bars that seem to be run by Mexicans who couldn’t understand my Irish accent, I branched out to other bars in Hollywood. However, still to no avail. I was told to try everything on Craigslist. So after a while I started finding jobs for nightclub promotions, I thought, wuu duu, something I can do. Applied for a job, got a reply setting up an interview. 

Threw on my best shirt and went to their Beverly Hills office, group interviews. Myself and a 19 year old punk rocker with a Mohawk went in. I knew something was dodge straight away when the girl interviewing us, said she was interviewing us together because we had the same look and would work well together. Sure. Next she told us how impressed she was with both of us, even though neither brought our CV, or knew anything about the company. Felt something was dodge but I was distracted by her tales of being VIP in the clubs, the people we’d meet, etc… I bit the bait.
Great day, I got the job, on the spot. We were asked to go to an event that night, mingle and get to know people. I was tired, so told her I would hold off until the Saturday, she said no problem. Then an hour later I get a text saying she’s sorry, family emergency in Texas, she had to leave the company, here’s the owner’s number, he’d sort me out, apologies we couldnt work together. Very odd, text was sent at close to 1 in the morning too.
Next day, I rang the owner’s number, then sent a text, no reply to either. The girl who hired me was still sending me strange texts like “I cant tell you now but Ive more info for you in the morning, Ill reveal all”. Eventually, after a head wrecking few days, she left a voicemail confessing all. She had only been hired two weeks previously. The owner hadn’t paid her or the 180 other promoters that worked for the company and had just disappeared. She was sorry she had gotten me involved, they were suing him and the company, did I want to be part of the lawsuit. Bunch of spoofing nutters. 
At least I found out the proper story. Although, I wished they had scammed me (or at least tried!) out of money, my head wouldnt have been as wrecked then for the few days. I suppose she did tell the truth in the end. The only good thing is that they logged me onto their system when I was supposedly hired. So now I can log on, put my name on the VIP list, plus whoever I want, for savage clubs in LA. Duu duu.     

Song of the day Ce Jeu (Cool Kids Cant Die Remix) by Yelle. Cool as funk!

The Morning After

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I forgot a funny addition to the party on Saturday night. In my drunk haze I ended up going back to the Valley(think Sweet Valley High) to some other party. The next day Im stranded, phone is dead, no clue where I am. One of my tour guides said her roommate would drop me home. So she pulls up outside the house. Get in, roommate is good looking, Im still hungover, some friendly flirting never hurt anyone. So all the way back to Hollywood having a good laugh, she’s into funky music, likes off the wall stuff, big fan of punk and bootlegs, highly impressive. So we pull up by my house, she says we should meet up sometime and go to the club she was telling me about. Im not against it, at all, she asks for my number, takes off her sunglasses for the first time and turns fully towards me for the first time. Remember they drive on the left in America, Im sitting on the right hand side so wouldnt have seen the left side. Turns to face me…her left eye is the laziest eye I have ever seen. I just wasn’t expecting it, in a bit of shock so just kind of staring at it, I didn’t see it coming. I think, and presume she notices me seeing it, gets a bit self conscious about it. So I feel bad but cant get my eyes off her eye. In my confusion and haste I think i ended up giving her the wrong number too. Re de de.

Enough Talk, More Writing

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Life in L-Heeeey is weird as funk. Cool as funk but highly odd and full of nuts. As some chick told me the other night, people in LA are like granola bars…flakes, fruits or nuts. She thought I was a fruit, ha. Another odd thing is the weather, I had no idea it rained here, a lot. I thought it was always sunny in LA, must only be Philadelphia, oh Jesus. 

Saturday night was my first Hollywood party in the Hills, getting invited by 3 girls from the Valley.  Stereotypes all the way. It was fake, shallow, drunk and brilliant. Big mansion, booze was flowing, lit up pool, DJ inside, funbelievable view of the city. It was straight out of the movies, with a drunk Irish ape floating amongst it all. There were buckets of hot girls from the valley, and the owner of the house was blatantly Italian but swore he was Irish. Apparently that was his chat up line anyways. Luckily I was saved by some valley girls. Cant remember much after that, free booze and all.
 
Anyways, Im about 2 and a half weeks behind in my blog on my initial LA trip so Ill sporadically throw in a few stories of my first weird experiences when Im not so tired. Luckily Im typing for, and to, myself now, so wuu duu, L-Heeeeey all the way.  
On a minor side note, I had my first dance with frozen yogurt here today, sweet Lord its funreal. Non-fat and sugar free, tastes too good to not be bad for you. I need to check it out. I think my roommates are trying to fool a fool.