Just Walkin’ In The Rain - The Prisonaires
On the upside… I think I’m in love! Funk me pink… I am! I’m in love. Monday truly was a mighty day! On the downside… Currently waging a war against an army of ailments. Pretty sure I might be allergic to the flu. Keep sneezing when I’m around my sick roommate. Unwittingly flew back from San Fran straight into a flu-den. Tut. Dose. Can’t remember the last time I was sick. Besides mentally, says you. And hungoverly, say I. (Actually I do know exactly when. First week of January 2009. The week before I moved to L-Hey. Left my ailments in Ireland!). Not happy. Very stuffy. All that gibber. However. No time to be ill. Which is why it shall be positive on. All that gibber. Sick?! Tut. Nay! I’m in love! Positive on! Me shall see. So back to me falling in love…
Unexpected. Obviously. Always is to be true. Me looking all ill. Her looking so savage. Stopped me in my tracks when I first laid eyes on her. Transfixed. Food shopping no longer mattered for that moment. Just her and I. Sharing a moment. Just knew the minute I saw her… Must be mine! Had to have her. Wasn’t looking for love which is always when it shows up. There have been others. There are others! Meaningless though. Flings. Using each other. Various reasons. Straight away I knew this was different. Moons aligned. Eyes glinted. Love at first sight. Transfixed. Mesmerised. Right there right then just knew she was the one…
Oh What An Ape Of An Ape!
Yes indeed. In love, with a tea cup. But oh sweet Lord, what a cup for tea she is! Seriously. Perfect shape. Perfect weight. Perfect amount. Never been drawn to a cup so much before. Kind of odd. Before I knew what I was doing, she had been bought. All those other cups sitting at home were instantly forgotten about. And I know I know. She might not be everyone’s cup of tea (oh dear Lord) but she is the cup for me. Anyways, after such a mighty occasion, there was Bob Hope my day could get any better!?! And it didn’t. Well. It kind of just kept being good. Which suited me well. Finally said farewell to the dog who has been chilling in my apartment for the past month. Must say… A dope of a dog. Growling non-stop. Going for me. My buddies. Dogs can be dopes too. No need to be offended, dog lovers. It’s ok to admit that dogs can be dopes. No doubt that dog thought I was just as much of a dope in return. My parents won’t be too offended by that.
More of Monday being so mighty… Let’s say if I am currently at the initial stages of couple of projects. One shall be called Project Dancing. And the other, Project Prancing. Both potentially could be ridiculously mighty. On Monday, I was able to see how they could realistically map out. Stones laid out for me to dance and prance along on. Running around dumb and clueless and all, is mighty fun. However, at times, when every man needs a plan, stepping stones and paths can be just mighty! Par for the course. Bonus and focus. Map on. Plan on. See… Monday seriously did go from being a Moanday to a Mightay!!! Well. Until…
Decided to stay in with my cup for the night. Tea on. Sickness off. Perhaps I’ll have an early night… Hey hup… Realised I had a message waiting for me. Must’ve missed it earlier. Birthday invite from a sound man, Craig Robinson. Complete dancer. (He of The Office and Hot Tub Time Machine fame). Boozed on a few times with him. Gave me a few words for my book foreword. Came to a few stand-up shows. Top man. His birthday party was on, come come ‘come along Irish Mark!‘ Ah no I’m feeling a tad flu-ish. Plus I just made this lovely cup of tea and I told the cup it would just be and her for the nigh… Funk that. Quick look for permission (I am whipped already!)… The cup gave me the nod. Go. Run free. Be merry! Party on!
Went along with my buddy Kailanday. Arrive in, birthday shot. Era shur, doesn’t whiskey kill the flu?! Perhaps. One shot on. Some dodgy country band are playing in the bar. Thankfully they giddy up. Craig goes up with some of his band and gets the place jiving. Grooves are on! Well. Being sick and all I propped my elbow up against the bar. But everyone else was dancing. Good old hoot. Two bells comes around, time to finish up. Other people in the bar all leave. Craig’s party stays. Music finishes. Craig thanks everyone for coming along. Calls up his buddy to say a few words, tell a few jokes. Jeffrey Ross, comedian, does the roasts on Comedy Central. I’ve only seen the David Hasselhoff Roast but it was mighty! Funny man to be true. Anyways, does a few minutes. Tries out a few new jokes for his next roast… Quentin Tarantino. Wishes Craig a happy birthday once again. All good. Hugs Craig. Time to giddy up home… Hey hup. Did someone just say my name…?
Craig is back on the mike, telling everyone to hush down ‘Irish Mark, come on up to say a few words! Give us a few minutes from your act! Everyone… Irish Mark!’ Oh Jesus. Before my hand can wave an ‘Ah no no, it’s fine’ my ape legs have me trotting up on stage. High five Craig. Swing around. Stare out at the audience. Craig. Jeff. Kailand. Main guy from House Party (remember that movie?!). Some of Craig’s band. Along with a clutter more of Craig’s buddies. Now. What am I doing again… ? Oh yeah. Some stand-up. Funk. Very sober for this off the cuff. Ehhh… Try a joke. Hubbulla hubbulla…. My stuffy ailed Irish accent goes down well… ‘What did he just say?’ written all over people’s faces. (Perhaps more so that the joke was horrendous?) Bomb. Joke two… Bombaduu. Oh Jesus time. Oh Jesus what am I saying and what am I going to do next time…
You know when you realise that a crowd has no clue what you’re on about and you also don’t really know where you’re going with what you’re saying. But you just keep on going. And you hope you’ll end up somewhere good. And you just keep on going. And then you suddenly decide that there can only be one of two things that can save you now. You could a) Do an Irish jig… Nay. Or else b) You could… Don’t ask me why… I don’t even actually know the words to this song… I know the gist, or I can make noises that sound like I’m singing something to the tune… But for some reason, I decided right then would be the right time for me to sing a song… An Irish song… This Irish song? All about the Fear. How you might get the Fear on a Sunday night after a night of boozing on the Saturday night. And I’d like ye all to sing along if ye know the words. And I feel this song is perfect right now for Craig as he might get the Fear tomorrow after so much boozing tonight (These were the actual words coming out of my mouth while I was on stage. And I wasn’t even drunk!!! Not even close. One shot?! Sweet Jesus… ) So here we go. Happy birthday Craig! And a one and a two and a three and a… Oooooooooohhhh goodbye to the port and brandy to the vodka and the schtag, to the…
(Here is the song I attempted to sing to a stunned crowd that was hopeful as drunk as they were mystified… )
… Schmithwick and the harp-ick and the bottle of draft and keg. As I sat looking up at the Guinness ad I could never figure out, how – and this is where I cleverly made the song relevant(!?!) – how Craig stayed up on the surfboard after 14 pints of stout, hey, ho, hey, ho, hup, heyyy, hooo, happy birthday Craig!!! Thank you!!!
I Need Tea
Stunned, bewildered (sweet Lord let them have been drunk) audience forsake the charity clap as I leave the stage. No clue what just happened. Jewish folk. Black folk. Not an Irish folk in the vicinity. All bewildered. Me included. Did I just panic? Is that my panic reaction? To sing a song I don’t even know the words to about being hungover after a night out?! Well done me. To swoop a line from the song, I probably would have got a better reaction from the crowd if I had went up on stage ‘tied barbed wire around me underpants and flagellated myself off the floor’. At least Craig was drunk. Which might explain why he at least was laughing along. Takes the mic and claps me off. Off into the night. Back to the warmth. Back to the love, back to my love. Back home to my cup of tea. Oh sweet Jesus. At least I got a blogaruu out of it. Not sure if I’ll be getting an invite to go on a comedy tour with the lads yet though. Tut. If only I wasn’t sick! All my army of ailments fault. Tut. Moan. Moooooo-an. On a serious note… My return to stand-up next week in the Comedy Store is shaping up nicely! (I sang a song!?! Funk me pink). Good duckaduu!