Boring Bob

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Boring Bob

Everybody Wants To Rule The World – Tears For Fears

Harking back to my college days, oh what a lark, one thing that sticks out in my mind is texting girls on behalf of my friends. Not all the time, just some times, if they got stuck trying to woo a girl. Sometimes I still actually do it which might be a bit harsh on the unlucky girl – making her think my wit (or lack there of) is his wit and all that. I’ll get over it, I hope. Anyway, I was usually asked for help when a friend might want the girl to come out and meet him but she was leaning more towards staying in. Through my own means, I found one trick that almost always worked. The texting conversation might go as follows: Continue Reading »

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Boys Town To Manhattan!

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New York New York – Frank Sinatra

So I land. Collect my bag. Walk out the airport doors. Cross the zebra crossing. And hear a guy stuck in traffic shouting at me out of his mini van window. “Welcome to New York, you’re going to rock it in this city, am I right?!” Before I get a chance to reply Why yes sir, I certainly hope so! he adds on… “And I hope you get raped!!” OK? Thanks? Oh Jesus. I’m in New York. Continue Reading »

Phot’ho.

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Sit Down – James

“For most writers, there is always a tension between a lived life and a life of writing.” A Hodgkinson

Fair point. So after being a hermit for a while, the past two weeks have been spent galavanting. Full. On. Fun!

Unfortunately little time spent blogaruuing. Luckily. A picture paints a thousand words. So I have developed into a photo ho. Lights. Cameras. Flashing. Helping me remember what actually happened the night before…

The Man is in town. So I took a dip in his pool…

Then I sat by the pool and had a think. Continue Reading »

Such A F$&@^!*KING CARROT!!

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Robot High School – My Robot Friend

All has be quiet on the wonderful blogaruu. Head down. Editing on. So far, so mighty. Soon ye shall see and read and laugh and weep and dance and be merry!

Oh ’twill be a glorious day, to be true.

Besides that, I have kept my venturing out to a minimum. Bar some improv shindigs (mighty) and the odd Christmas shopping hunt (also quite mighty). Although, I did go out Saturday night. An odd occurrence: I was not DJigging. Blip in the system. Matrix messed up. Threw me for a loop. What to do? I know. I’ll just go to the bar where I was meant to be DJing, collect a cheque owed to me and have a pint or nine. Because people simply love going into where they work when they’ve the night off! Look-at-me-outside-of-work-hours, kind of thing. Clown. Continue Reading »

Suge Knight To… Doris Day?

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Over & Over – Hot Chip

To my naked eye, it would appear that Memorial Day weekend is the time Americanos like to booze and booze until they can’t remember a thing. Thankfully, I remembered it all. Starting with Saturday night. DJigging. Mighty hoot. Until. Manager asks us to shut down the music. Crowd were going too nuts. Testosterone flying off the walls. Estrogen dominating the dance floor. Not enough security to control them. Dose. Shut down. At least we got to finish earlier than anticipated. Happy days. Celebrate on! Last call. Left the bar. Strolling home. Myself. Chowder. Ted. Trying to flag down a cab. No joy. Stroll past my old street. Old haunt at the top. Shop of Bodies. Big Jim. Head bouncer. Long time no see. Shouts over. Where’s my free book, Irish man?! Where’s my dignity, Big Jim!? Before we know it, Jim is twisting arms. Come in for a drink. Nay, not a fan any more! Twists: Free in! Ehh. Can’t remember the last time we were here actually. One drink? Why not? Never hurt anyone! Famous last words. Continue Reading »

Jiggling Jugs!

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No Diggity – Chet Faker 

Tough week. Realised a few things. Such as: My ability to make women puke is still going strong. Take yesterday. Setting up to DJig. Girl comes over to me. Big. Drunk. Mexican. (Big as in overweight. Drunk as in demented. Mexican as in Meximerican.) Stands in front of me. Starts pointing. Swaying. Pointing. Slurring. ‘You’rrrre verrree goood luuk inn.’ Why thank you. Suddenly her head dips. And then she pukes all over her own feet. Delightful. Looks back up at me. Smiles. And before I could ask if she was OK, she puked again. Beautiful. Thankfully her friends carried her off (with one oddly rubbing her breasts the entire time. Giving me dirty looks when I looked at her do so. Is that a girl thing?)

More good news: My ability to make girls Continue Reading »