Blogaruu! Jamaduu. It’s been too long. I have been busy. Editing this new book. Almost done. Gibbering aboot. Book fairs and the likes. And. Shooting some RanDumb stuff to show some TV people and the likes. Mighty hoot. Here are a few photos. Still going. More the merrier. As a wise man once said: You miss all the shots you don’t take, so never turn down a free booze. Something like that. Shoot on!
How are you today? I am good. That is nice. Long time no gibber. Hope you’re not sour. It’s been a month since we spoke last. So much gibber to flow. Where to start? Yesterday a guy at the coffee shop called out my name as Muck when my coffee was ready. Muck?! What a hoot. Now, what else… Continue Reading »
Winning Streak. Back in the day this was the main TV game show in Ireland. Might still be. Contestants would go on and spin a wheel or guess something and win money. The easy part was winning. The hard part was getting on. I think you had to buy a scratch card and get three star icons. This then meant you could send the scratch card in where it was put in a drum and each week on the show the name of three lucky contestants would be drawn. Lot of hoops. But. If you ever made it on, you were going to win something. A brand new Opel car! Ohhh. Two thousand euro! Wow. A luxurious holiday away for two! Dear Jesus. I think one extra lucky person at the end got a chance to ‘Spin the Wheel’ where the top prize was 500,000 euro. Something like that.
The wheel was basically a vertical roulette table with different sections indicating different prize amounts. A ping pong ball would be dropped in at the bottom and the extra lucky person would spin the wheel. The nation would then watch the ball dart around the wheel, bouncing along until it slowly came to a stop. Wherever the ball landed, that was your prize. Usually it would hop between 250,000 and 2,000 on the wheel, so you’d get the old “Is she going to win the big prize, is she, she is, she just won-” Ball hops one more time – “2,000 euro”. Ohhh, so close. The softly spoken presenter, who might have previously been a priest, would then say “Unlucky Mary but at least you got something. Aren’t you happy?” “I am” Mary would reply as she waves goodbye at the camera, her family in the audience hold up their banners and flags saying ‘GOOD GIRL MARY!’ ‘UP TYRONE!’ ‘COME ON THE PARISH!’
Thirty minutes in. I think I might be drunk. A tad tipsy. High as a kite. On my way to skunks who are drunks town. In the non-literal sense. Obviously. Literally, I’m 45,000 feet in the air on the way to Miami. High flying. Fly in the sky. It’s early. Half seven or something. One hour earlier I was in bed. Two hours before that I was watching the end of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Mighty movie. Sidetracked me from packing though. And also meant I stupidly only had two hours sleep. So it’s early. I’m drunk. And I’m on a private jet. Oh yeaaah.
Eating all that paper. Not the best preparation for a flight back to America. Customs. Fully to the fore. What if they do what they did to Kailand?! But I’m legal, fully, I have a visa! I know, calm down, it’s just you might get a guy who’s having a bad day and he could screw you over somehow. But I have a visa, I’m all good! Well we didn’t even think what happened to Kailand could have possibly happened and you know how well that went! Oh balls. Me bowels. Durchfall. At least I was in business class. Paranoid but comfortable. Always key. Although I do need the bathroom.
Wait. Spot a guy on the other side waiting too. Obligatory nod hello. Ignores me. Nice. Standing. Wishing. Thinking. Waiting. Did I ever Continue Reading »