Weekend at Bernie’s

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Running Up That Hill (Louis La Roche Remix) – Kate Bush

Some things in L.A appear will never change. Not unless I do, anyway. Such as, people calling me by the wrong name over and over. Ever growing list at this stage. The usuals still apply. Merrick. Eric. Omar. Moved on a lot to Merk. Murk. Maaaaarrrk. Sometimes when I say my full name I get mistaken for a Mexican guy named Marquez. And then at one point someone working at Coffee Bean thought my name was America. Combination of being asked a question by two people at the same time: ‘Your name… Merrick?’ ‘So a large coffee?’ Eh, Mark – Yeah… ‘Coffee for America!’ Although another time I asked for coffee recently I got the reply: ‘Cathy? I’m not too sure. Let me check – Hey guys, does a Cathy work here? Sorry man, no Cathy.’

So that was fun.

Considering all of the name confusion that has already occurred due to my accent and mumbles (along with everyone in L.A having lazy ears, tut), I was still a bit surprised about my name morphing earlier on today: Continue Reading »

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Boom Boom Boom…

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I Want To Know What Love Is – Foreigner

Let me hear you say WeHo, WeHo! Mighty Monday was had today. Why oh why, do you say? Well, let me stop speaking in rhyming riddles and calm down a second.

Now.

OK.

So.

I’ve been going through a bit of a power ballad phase, in case you were wondering. Some way to wake up in the morn, nothing beats a good fist clencher. Also going through a bit of a writing phase. Sit. Com. On. Working hard on writing a thingamajig called a Show Bible (known as a business plan in the real world). Everything needed to Continue Reading »

My McRib

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All Night Long – Lionel Richie

It’ll be all white on the night! Ha ha, should be good all right. We’ll be dancing all night long (all night), all night long (all night)! One of the downsides of booking me to DJ a big White Party is that those phrases will keep popping out of my mouth leading up to it. Pop on.

So it’s Labor Day. End of the summer. Bank holiday weekend. Sunday night. Big party. And I’m DJigging classic Irish folklore songs. Put on my finest whitest rags. Pack up my equipment. Stroll up the ridiculously steep street I live on. And I’m at the SkyBar. Ready to go. I kind of got ready really quickly just before I was meant to be there so didn’t cop on that I was in all white. Looking very tampon like. Not my normal attire. Enter through the velvet rope. Meet the manager. Asks me if I’m pumped. I pretend I am. Informs me it’s going to be a huge party. One of their big three. Halloween. Christmas. White Party. Oh right. So it’s going to be a big one? Oh right. Dance on!

Early start. Nine bells. Not expecting it to be busy. Poolside looking very dapper dressed in white. White flowers floating in the pool. Savage view of all of L.A sparkling over the side. All very decadent. Top bar is looking cool. Staff all in white too. Looking sharp. Or glamorous. Depending on their chromosomes.

Set up. Plug in. Good to go. Just keep it chilled for the first two hours I’d say. Parties are notorious for getting going late here. Start late. End early. The two o’clock cut-off time is still one of L.A’s worst flaws. Anyway… And a one and a two and away we go! Music. On.

Two songs in, Continue Reading »