Two Sec’s There

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It would appear that this name is beginning to stick, when it comes to me and DJ’ing. Or a hybrid of it, Tsector perhaps, I am not sure how it is that the people not understanding what I say, might spell it. Not too sure how I feel about the name, but, who cares really.

Yesterday was a glorious day of DJ’ing. After trying to be clever and prepare six hours worth of music for two gigs, I ended up just making them up as I went along. My new evening stint in the gym is looking promising. Not that are paying me or anything for it (yet, talks of it yesterday), just the fact that it is the busiest time in the gym, more people are coming up to me giving me good feedback, and, most importantly, there are double the amount of good looking women in there at that time, than there usually are when I play during the day. On the down side, unfortunately I can no longer say I pleasure a room full of gay men anymore. Now it is half and half. Although one guy did come up to me and tell me that he didn’t like my A-Ha remix. The way he said it though, with a tut and a huff, made me play him my Rick Astley remix straight away. If I was to lose a fan, I might as well fully lose him, tut, huhh.

That gig went well over the two hour mark (it is tough to say no to requests from certain girls in there) so I was in a bit of a rush for my first night DJ’ing in the bar by me. Seeing as I had bob all time to prepare for that gig, I decided I would go through the decades, 60’s, 70’s, 80’s. 90’s and oo’s, and so on and so forth. A playlist of 10 hours to choose from, I was good to go. First ever gig in a bar, in Hollywood, with just me and my laptop, I was a tad apprehensive. However, a bar tab of all you and your friends can drink, took the edge off a bit. There was never really a need to worry, the music sold itself. I am convinced the main two things you need to DJ are: cop on, and good music. I at least have the good music part. The rest can be dealt with. Mighty work if you can seamlessly mix two songs beat for beat, perfectly in synch, with each other, the crowd did not even notice, but if they are crap songs, who cares. My view at least. Not that I wouldn’t like to be able to do what DJ AM, for example, can do, but it is all about the baby steps!

Now that I know, I should have gotten into the DJ’ing malarky a long time ago. Purely as it is one of the easiest ways, in the world, to get women to approach you, and use brutal lines, on you for a change. Anyone out there thinking of giving it a go, do it! On the down side, “Oh my gawd, what song did you just play? And what are you playing now? And what will you play next?” are three fun questions I encountered over and over last night. The reason I know the majority of them really cared as well about the music, was by the way the majority of them either walked away/zoned out while I was telling them the names of the songs/bands.

The bar is not a poser, full on model, look at me, who are you, kind of bar. So when I say I was trying to juggle three or four different conversations with different girls at one stage, I am not trying to give the impression that they were all the prettiest flowers in the pot. But, it did lead to me telling a group of them, again, two sec’s there, while I mixed a song or two, and all of them to ask, “Whats tsecstor? Where are you from?”.

I had told my buddy of the other girl in the gym who first mixed up what I was saying, so he informed them that it was my DJ name, DJ Tsector, to which they bizarrely liked, and squealed loudly over. Odds are they probably did not understand in the slightest the explanation, or anything that was actually said, well at least not by me.

As the night progressed, and the free bar tab continued to flow, the music got better and better. The place was rocking! Even if the crowd don’t know at first don’t know the song, “Where’s Me Jumper” by the Sultans of Ping is a good song to get them both pumped, and inquisitive. Bar the fact that my laptop, again, crashed at one stage mid song, and that one girl unwittingly unplugged a lead (tough for someone like myself with minimal wits at best to figure out what just happened) the night could not have gone much better. Oh, and playing the same song twice, in the space of about 4 songs, although nobody noticed except me, I think. They probably did then notice when I just got it off 1/3 of the way through but we live and learn!

It is fair to say that the drink might have clouded my judgement about last night, but I’ll ignore this if you do.The manager asked me back the following week, trial was over, money on, wuu huu. Although I had to disappoint her by letting her know I would be in San Francisco for the week. Genuine disappointment too, like the girl in the gym who works Thursday nights, asking if I was coming back next week. DJ’ing has turned the tables, so to speak, girls are now no longer happy to see me leave, I am now leaving them disappointed!

After all my talk about how DJ’ing was the best way to get girls to chat you up, I obviously went home alone. Obviously. Although, I do have the excuse that I had to get up early for a meeting! Obviously that was the only reason why. Forget the other long, long list of possible reasons. A great day.

Two songs of the day… Where’s Me Jumper by Sultans of Ping

And girls here are big fans of this song it seems… So Rich, So Pretty by Mickey Avalon

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#1040 in Maxim’s Hot 100

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The past 36 hours have been eventful enough, at times, so I’ll write in blocks of events, perhaps even split the posts up, who knows, we’ll see how it goes! 

I’ll start with Wednesday night, the big Maxim party I was invited along to, ish. My buddy seems to have a meddle of jobs, including doing talent work for Maxim, along with promoting and DJ’ing in cool clubs here in L.A. Also off to Cannes for a week for some reason. I know. Lucky b*****d. Anyways, he asked me along to the party, starting off in Santa Monica, then on to the club My House for the after party. I am not a fan of Santa Monica, so decided I would only go to the after party. (Ahem, that is a lie, I love Santa Monica, I just cant afford a $100 round trip cab out there).

To be honest, I think some people actually believed me when I said I was number 1040 on Maxim’s hot 100. Ignoring the fact that the list consists of just girls, who are good looking, and not apes (well, maybe a few are). That criteria rules me out for starters. Seeing as there were well over 100 hot women at the party, I thought the best way to get to the top, was to simply ask them what number they were. I was number 1040. I hope I win. When is the raffle on? I thought there were only 100 of us though. Fingers crossed. A good line for the party, I thought anyways.

The talent at the club was funbelievable, even if they didn’t make the top 100, I would not have held it against any of them. Myself and my buddy stayed in the outside area for most of the night, not a fan of sober dancing, or screaming at people trying to talk to them inside, with music and my accent making conversations non-existent. Slow to start with, but once a group of girls mistook me for Russell Brand for about 5 minutes, I was back in the swing of things. On a side note, I am sure he is sick of people mistaking him for me too. I must ask him next time I see him. 

There were a few actresses in there that I recognized, but no clue of names. Also a tremendously hot Australian girl who we were having a bit of banter with, but it turned out she was a lesbian. For once, however, I managed to make a joke because of someone else’s accent, even if it was horrendous(ly good). When asked how long she’s in L.A, she replied “I’m here for one wake, then New York for a wake, then back to L.A for two more wakes.” I told her how sorry I was to hear so many people she knew had passed away, hope she was doing okay. Ha, if only she had not been a lesbian! (Although now that I think about it, I do tell girls, whom I don’t have interest in, that I am gay, but obviously she wasn’t lying. Obviously. And not sure if whom was used correctly in that sentence but I tried).

One other funny incident was with a girl that I am fairly convinced was Mandy Moore. It’s hard to tell really, changing looks, hairstyles, dark clubs, and all that, but it is Hollywood. Lindsay Lohan was also floating around in there (again, I think/presume it was her, I’ll start asking for an i.d from now on), but no small talk with her. And I do think that she might have left with the Aussie girl, so her story might be true! Back to Ms. Moore. Next to her at the bar, looking quite hot, I enquired if she was Irish, not sure why but a good ice breaker. I think she told me that she was 1/7th Irish, her surname was Moore (looked like her, same surname, thats why I think it was her) Oh yeah, in Ireland we actually pronounce that Moo-er. Say it with me. Moo-er. It comes from the Irish word whu-er. Eh, I mean hoover. The bar man gave me a free shot at least out of it. And she laughed. And told me to have a good night, nice meeting an Irish guy. And walked away. Wuu.

All in all it was a good night. Hopefully the few photos I took with my disposable camera worked, although there were issues with the flash. You think a $10 camera would be fool proof! I’ll have to wait until however it is I get those photos out of it for me to find out. Strangely got a few emails from girls, numbers are a thing of the past! And finally finished up with me getting kicked out of another club for not buying more apple juice. Even though I had 4 apple juices in front of me. But that is another story completely, one which is not fit for the blog.

Song of that great day was… Song 2 by Blur