Monthly Archives: August 2009

Dr… Fr… Ar?

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On a random note, people should really read more books. If not now, then maybe in a few months time perhaps. Blogs make you interesting, while books make you smart. I read that recently in a blog, by the way. Books are cool. Especially, entertaining books about gibberish. Also, on another separate random note, if doctors use Dr. and priests use Fr. in front of their names, in my opinion, authors should really start to use Ar. in front of their names. Just a thought.

Anyways, I had planned on doing a vlog to reveal the news which I got today. However, my laptop’s memory is almost full, so that plan must be put on ice. The tiredness levels are also high after my trip. I had to get up pretty early, and head to Dublin for a meeting. An hour max, more like 45 minutes, in Dublin. Then straight back home to good old Cork. However, the round-trip was well worth it! This is where I break the bad news. Bad news, seeing as it is actually good news, which in the past has proven to not be half as entertaining. Although, off the top of my head, has there ever actually been substantial, definitive good news?! More like little steps of progress. Which have all led me to today. Step 2 in my plan. Which is… I am dragging this out far too much… dun dun dun… I have a book deal!!! Wuu huu!

A few weeks back I met with, whom I can now call my, publishers, about writing a book. I am not too sure if I mentioned that in the blog at the time. Probably seeing as, in one way, meetings do mean something, I suppose, but at the same time they mean little until whatever it is, is definite. Take my meetings with RTE, for example. Anyways, that was a few weeks back. Today the details for the book deal were ironed out and the arrangement was finalized. 10 books, $1.5 million sign on fee, and a movie deal in the pipeline. Good deal, I think. It is amazing how knowledgeable and adept Mahalo and Google can make you appear! Now I can sit back and relax. I have made it. My work here is done. I joke. Especially seeing as I still have to actually finish the book.

I wont lie, hearing plans for your own book, is funking cool. Still a bit off, but talking about the cover, the title, the artwork, mock-ups, tying up the story arcs, the foreword, the marketing, the promotions, the book, your book, my book, is cool. Book fairs, the different regions and countries to launch the book in, prequels, sequels, trilogies, plus, obviously, the groupies that come with a book, and the invites to the Playboy mansion which should start flooding in my door any day now. If you ever want to see a publisher shift nervously in their seat, mention their favourite word… Advance! I presume as well that the royalties will be the equivalent of a number 1 Christmas song, “Fairy Tale of New York” kind of thing. Dan Brown just rang to congratulate me. I could tell he was freaked with the new competition though. I presume as well that this automatically makes J.K Rowling my new best friend? Obviously.

In case you are wondering, the 2 main things people have said to me when I told them the good news, are… 1 – “How much do you get paid?” Very surprising question, especially from Irish people. It is common knowledge that you write a book to get rich, quick. And, number 2 – “Put me in the book. Seriously, just mention my name once, somewhere.” Even a buddy, who I suspect might never had read the blog, has rang me 3 times already with that request. At least to put him in the appendix. A final weird comment I got, was being asked if it was going to be a hardback or softback book? When I told them I had no clue, didn’t even think of it at this stage, they just tutted, and said if it wasn’t a hardback, must not really be that good. So true. Tut.

All jokes aside, the best part of the book deal, is having physical evidence of progress. From now on when people ask “Who are you? What have you done?” I can at least say, I’m the idiot who wrote this international best seller. This will at least spur me on for another good while, baby steps are being made! Plus, it raises the profile. Bouncing ball kind of thing. Already talks were had about other avenues to explore, in preparation for the book release (clear your spring schedule). Overall, it was a good day. I now have two things to occupy my mind for the next few months. What will be the first sentence and the last sentence. Not sure why, ha, but thats what I thought about on the way home. Pressure is on!

Two songs, first one just came on my iTunes and haven’t heard it in a while…

Jimmy Eat World

The Middle – Jimmy Eat World

Second is one a buddy has flogged to me a few times, and it is pretty class in fairness…

Gui Boratto

Beautiful Life – Gui Boratto

Hop, Skip & A Dump

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Stop start kind of day really. Or is it start stop? Humidity might have been a factor. Mugginess is a killer. I like to think thats the reason why I can get irritable and headaches pop up when ever it is about. More than likely it is all in my head though. Which is true either way really. Managed to line up another few potential DJ gigs to keep me ticking over for the next few weeks. Plus I have started working on plans for where to live, work, pursue acting/writing and other such wonderful stuff, in anticipation for my return to L-Hey, whenever that might be. Oh, and I fell down a stairs. Kind of. The last few steps of a stairs at least. And took a nice hop off the floor when I did.

At the gym earlier, Boris wasn’t being too full on as he usually has been, which was good. I think it is because a few of his buddies seemed to be there as well. Seeing as I only had under an hour before the gym closed, I was racing through a few leg exercises, far too quickly really. Not recommended when doing squats. Between the humidity, and flying through the gym, I was a beaten docket as I left. At the same time I was leaving one section of the gym, I spotted Boris sticking his head out of the other part, and making his move as I departed. With this in mind, I bounded down the stairs. Stupid call really. It has happened a few times, where I have forgotten how dodge my legs are after squats, and nearly tumbled. As I briskly made my way down the two flights of stairs tonight, the last few steps were literally a step too far.

Dodgy left knee buckled first, should really get that checked out. Flimsy right leg followed. Thankfully I managed to break my fall by nicely hopping my shoulder off the ground, and ended up in a heap at the end of the stairs. Just lying there. At the front door. Panned out. Like a weak, defeated flower. Feeling fairly wrecked, and wondering if I had done any damage, I decided to just lie there for a minute, and suss out any potential injuries. A minute feels way longer when lying down on the ground in public. I might have lay there for longer, until I heard others coming down the stairs. Not wanting to surprise or shock Boris by having me passed out on the floor, waiting for him to scoop me up and carry me to my car, I brushed myself down, realizing only my pride and shoulder had been bruised, and off I went.

I’ll cleverly skip the part about the what is going on tomorrow. Let’s just say that hopefully my round trip to Dublin will all be worthwhile. Which would make a welcome change! If you remember my plan I wrote about before, that will give you a clue. In fact, it might merit another wonderful Vlog tomorrow to mark the occasion, which would be a bit ironic. A weak link to skip but it will have to do!!!

While I was lining up DJ gigs earlier today in town, I happened to bump into a girl I half know. And by that, I mean I dont know the half that has her name. Anyways, while I was talking to her, or listening to her complain to be exact, I noticed myself drifting away, and instead just looking in complete wonder at different parts of her body. Not in a sexual way, oh dear Lord no. In a completely bewildered way. Seeing as I think it was the first time I have seen her in the cold light of day, I only today noticed how her hands, feet, face, neck and ears were all different colours. I admit that I might be a bit obsessed with fake tan. As in my dislike and disdain for it. Still though, when someone’s skin changes from orange, to kind of green, to patchy white, back to speckled orange, I can’t really be the one who is odd for noticing it. I have forgotten how unforgiving the cold light of day can be!

However, by far the worst part had to have been the smell. Maybe I was just unfortunate to be standing down wind from her. It is chronic though. I was at least a foot away from her today. Actually, thats almost on top of each other now I measure a foot out with my hands. Say 3 feet. And I could still get the smell of a weekend old fake tan. At this stage, I prefer the smell from the dump, than that of fake tan. I would say I prefer the smell of someone’s dot dot dot, but thats just weird either way you look at it. Not something you’d really prefer to anything. Only the smell from the bathroom in the old bus station in Cork, and puke, are worse now for me. Just in case you were wondering. I am sure you were dying to know how much I do not like the orange curry powder.

Wrap it up, the heading probably outshone the rest of the blogaruu! Seeing as I am tired, time for a chilled song…

Sufjan Stevens

Casimir Pulaski Day – Sufjan Stevens

Boris, My Hungarian Stalker?

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On Saturday, two things of note occurred. First, unfortunately I had to go to a funeral. However, it was honestly one of the more upbeat funerals I have been to. At the end everyone in the congregation sang a song, When Irish Eyes Are Smiling. Initially I tried to play the cool card, and not sing. Instead shrugging my shoulders to say I would if I could but I don’t know the words. However, a kind lady next to me gave me a sheet with the lyrics. Then looked at me until I actually started to sing along, and not just mime the words. So sing on I did.

While taking pointers from the priest’s sermon technique for my own stand-up act, one good bit of advice stood out for me. The priest was quoting a Spanish writer I think, and mentioned something along the lines of… “You will not be remembered for your secret thoughts. Go out and do it.” I might have added on the second part, not too sure. Still though, I thought it was good. Instead of thinking about X, Y and Z all the time, yet just doing A, B or C, do those things you have in your head. Don’t hold back. You will be remembered for your actions, kind of thing. 

After the funeral, I decided to go to le gym. Saturday afternoon, nice and quiet in there, happy days. Well, just one other person in there it seemed. Not so happy after all. You might remember a few blogaruus back, I mentioned a weird Polish dude who I thought was chatting me up in there before. Couldn’t be sure, but it was bizarre, asking me for my number, and looking to meet up. Well, he was the only other dude in the gym with me on Saturday. And, I was wrong, turns out that he is, in fact, Hungarian, my bad. However, my other first impressions were correct. Bit of a nut. Might also be a stalker. Not too sure.

I was told before that when doing improv, always say yes to any question you are asked, to keep the scene flowing. I would recommend that if you are ever talking to someone who you suspect might be a nutter, always answer no to whatever they ask you. Unless you want to see what happens. Stupidly, I made the mistake of answering yes to… “Are you going out tonight?” Eh, yeah, I’d say so. “Where? Me too, we should meet. I am fun to go out with.” Ok. Em, I am actually working, now that I think about it. “Are you DJ’ing the music? I will come listen to you. Maybe, I will dance as well.” Not too sure yet where I am working, I’ll let you know, I’ll talk to you later on. “Ok, give me your number, and I will ring you.” I’ve no phone. “Everyone has a phone.” I meant, I have no Irish phone, I’m using my American one. “Ok, give me that number later on, we can dance.”

Trying to move on, I stuck my iPod back on. This did not deter him from the pointless chat. Not in the slightest. No matter how many times I pointed at the earphones, he kept on asking me oddly phrased questions. What was my favourite top song? What song did I not like at all? The last CD I bought? Could I make a mixed CD for him? And one for his friend. And another one for a girl he lives with. 3 CDs in total. No problem buddy! He would write out a list of 10 to 30 songs, and I could just put them together for him. When he asked about a CD initially, I actually said yeah, cool, ok, leave me be so, just to be polite and try to appease him so he’d leave me alone. The 30 song request and the way he looked like he thought I would do it, made me tell him to just do it himself. This led to him launching into how the police would catch him downloading the songs, and send him home to Hungary. It had happened to his friend. Sure it did.

At this stage, I told him I was going over to the other side of the room, gym was closing soon, must plough on. “What are you working out today?” I don’t know, my upper left shoulder blade perhaps. “Me too, I will join you.” Actually, I’m going to do my Achilles heels altogether. “You can show me what to do, I need to work them out as well.” Have you ever had a weird dude sitting next to you, staring at you in the mirror in front of both of ye, while working out? Strangely, there is an up-side. It is the best motivation ever. You fly through stuff, just so you can get it over with, and get the funk away from him as quickly as possible. It was a weirder than average staring technique too. Shoulders slumped, head drooped down, yet looking up at me. Just bizarre. God only knows what secret thoughts he was thinking, especially when he would give me a weird smirk every now and again. 

After racing through all the shoulder blade and Achilles exercises I could think of, Boris conveniently gave me a window of opportunity to bunk, by telling me he was going to get his phone, so he could take down my American number. Cool Bor, I’ll be here. He disappeared around the corner, I headed for the exit. Stupidly, I didn’t drive away straight off though when I got into my car. Replied to a text, made a quick call. Then, I started to drive home. As I was pulling out of the car park, I happened to notice the guy in the car behind me, head drooped down, shoulders hunched, cap pulled down. Was that Boris? Looks like Boris. Oh Jesus. Decided to take the long scenic route home. Just in case. The car followed me along the same route. Oh Jesus.

Being honest, I couldn’t actually be fully sure if it was him or not. Still though, better safe than sorry. Did I drive past the turn for my house as a precaution? Obviously. Did I then go around the roundabout by my house twice, to confuse whoever it was? Obviously. It worked. Short term anyways. That stare did look a bit psychotic. Might make out that 30 song mixed CD, just in case. Better safe than sorry. Probably too early to call him a stalker as well. At least a bit of randomness is back in town, wuu huu. 

New band, Local Natives, two songs…

Local Natives

Airplanes – Local Natives

Cecilia (Cover) – Local Natives

Winner

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If you ever want to feel like a true winner, wake up on a Monday morning with a hangover. What a winning feeling that is, too much fun. A great way to start the week. Only way is up, I do suppose. The blogaruu has been silent for the past few days, so time to catch up in one swift, foul swoop. Back on the road to productivity. I’ll start with my stand-up gig on Thursday.

I must admit, the gig was special. Really special. Not sure what it was exactly. But it was special. Do you know when everything just works out to a tee? You couldn’t plan it better if you tried. It was as if the earth aligned with the comedy moon, and everything just fell into place. New material and jokes were told with aplomb. Punch lines were delivered with panache. People clapping, standing ovations, crying out for more. Jokes that you think might be a bit dodge or 50-50, turn out to be unbelievably well received. Unfortunately, it was not one of those nights. Nowhere near. By special I mean horrendous. It was bad. Technically, it was actually funny. Just not the kind of funny I was aiming for. One those nights, where nothing goes to plan. Probably because I never had a plan to begin with.

It was probably the busiest night in there so far, maybe 100 people. I know, huge, stadium gigs might have to be the next port of call. It seemed to me as if the crowd were mostly new faces I had not seen before, so I decided I would open with a few of my new “jokes”, then fall back on my old reliables of life in L.A to finish on a high note. Whenever I watch the acts on before me, I’ve realized that all I am doing is hoping they wont tell jokes or stories similar in any way to mine. Thats it. Couldn’t really care if they’re funny or not. Just as long as they steer clear of what I have lined up, they’ve done well in my eyes. Seeing as I have practiced a bit of material based on life in L.A, I decided I would try out some new stuff about what it is like being home in Ireland. Along the lines of how much fun it is back here, comparing here and there, and how big a winner in life I am just waiting in limbo land for my visa. Those kinds of hilarious angles.

The acts on before me got a few laughs, nothing major. However, there was a girl whose act was a bit to similar to mine for my liking. As in she mentioned a few incidents in L.A, saying L.A a lot, as if to rub it in that she was marking her territory before I went up. Not that she had a clue of my act or anything, but it seemed like that to me when that was my selling point. A few of her jokes ran a bit too parallel to mine, confusion and dumbness, so I had to go with my new material now no matter what. The material that was still in the idea stage, yet to have been developed as far as punch lines. That top dollar material I had up my sleeve. Dumbly, I convinced myself I would think of the big bang punch lines when I was up on stage. As you do.

Straight off, messed up the first joke, mocked myself, without giving a back story as to why I was mocking myself, and messed up joke number one. Good start. Moved on to saying how delightful Irish girls and their love of fake tan are, went down like a lead brick. Oh Jesus. Dirty looks from girls in the crowd. Tried to compare them to an orange version of the Blue Man Group. No one seemed to have a clue who they were, must be an American thing only, cue more silence. (Here they are to give you a reminder. I think I might start to use a projector in future to explain my jokes. Which is a great sign.)

Blue Man Group

Thought I might move on to relationships and couples in Ireland, asking one couple in the crowd about a certain topic. Bad idea. If the guy answered truthfully, and laughed, he would be in the bad books with his girlfriend. So, instead he shrugged his shoulders, didn’t commit either way, and ruined my point. Cue more silence. Thankfully, at this stage, a guy in the crowd started shouting something up to me. Heckling I think its called. The thankful part was that he was foxy, and a gimp, so at least I got a few laughs mocking him and his big red target on his head. Seeing as I was getting a few chuckles now, I decided it was time for the old reliable sure fire stories. Unfortunately, it was not happening for me. Gay horse and accompanying story was not well received. Which is my jolly banker!

At this stage, I made the executive decision, that there was only one thing to do. Made the right call, enough was enough, lets end this now. Well, after I tried to have some banter with two drunk Dutch guys in the crowd first. In German. In German? Obviously enough, that went down well. A quick Auf Wiedersehen, and that was that. Overall, a special performance. My HBO Special should be in the pipeline soon. Although, on an ironic note, it was the most I have been paid for a stand-up gig. And, the guy in charge loved it, and booked me again for next week straight away. He must like seeing me bomb. Bomb on!

Blogaruu is long enough, so I won’t start on my bit about the Hungarian stalker I think I have, or the mix tape scenario that is developing, I’ll keep it for tomorrow. You must be so funking excited!!!

Seeing as the video is pretty cool, Strawberry Swing by Coldplay.

And one more, for a mighty Monday

The Big L.C

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Today, I had a bit of an epiphany. While out for lunch celebrating my sister’s Leaving Cert results, as I realized what was going on around me, I finally saw the funny side of how my life is panning out at the moment. Pretty funking funny. To me, at least. Laugh at, laugh with, laughable? There is no other way to look at it, just as long as some sort of laughing is involved. Especially when it seems like you are having lunch in what felt like an old folk’s home. For whatever reason, besides my parents, sister and myself, the rest of the clientele at the restaurant in the hotel were O.A.P’s. A few were just dozing off while eating their food. Conversations were trailing off into the wilderness. People were saying hello and goodbye to the same people every two minutes, perhaps forgetting that they had just met.

Immediately I got flashbacks of my Spring Break fiasco, where I stayed in a similar style old folk’s home/hotel in Mexico. Big difference being, it was Mexico, and only short term. At the moment, this is my life! And will be for another few weeks. I am dining with retired folk, discussing the lovely beef, admiring the fine portions they gave us. It has yet to make an appearance, but surely gardening will be on my to-do list soon enough. All jokes aside, if you were to ask me on the day I got my Leaving Cert results, would I be in this situation now, I would have probably laughed. And said hopefully, yes. Please God. Good to know that my life plan is on track!

In a similar vein, last Thursday a buddy was down in Cork for a night from Dublin. We mulled over the thought of going out on that night. Even though we wouldn’t be in town until 12 bells (it was a late idea), for a while we half fooled ourselves that something amazing might potentially happen. However, do you know what swayed me to stay in… ? My Mum asking me would I like a cup of tea! My buddy was just after sending me a text, saying he was 50/50 about going out, my call. What to do? Which do I choose? A cup of tea? Or a night out in Cork? Best case scenario for option B “Yeah, it was grand”. Or, a nice cup of tea, which you know will not disappoint? Easy option, tea on! 

Anyways, the epiphany did me good today. I can’t help but laugh, and look forward to see what else springs out from my current daily way of life. My sense of humour is back fully I do believe. Which helped in my daily work today. The work of studying sitcoms, unlocking their formula, and using them to improve upon what I have done for my one so far. As far as I remember, that too would have been on the tip of my tongue the day I got my Leaving Cert results, if you had asked me what I’d be up to in a few years time.

Wrapping up, seeing as I am going up to do stand-up in Dublin again tomorrow, I needed to work on new material. Otherwise I was just going to go with a rant about the current state of Irish radio. Which would have been great. Thankfully, the seeds for new material are kind of above, in case you were wondering. Probably not. The train ride up tomorrow will be used to plump them out. Throw in pointless cursing too for some reason. And, obviously I’ll be adding in the really funny parts and hilarious punch lines then as well. I held them back. Obviously. Re de de, I am looking forward to bombing on stage, it has been far too long!

Song on, after the hectic and frantic pace of that blogaruu, a more chilled affair…

Banjo Or Freakout

Upside Down – Banjo Or Freakout

And secondly, a magnificent opening beat…

Vampire Weekend

Ottoman – Vampire Weekend

Pro Bimbo

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I’ll try to keep this short. I am getting a burst of writing, so I need to channel it towards a script, the blogaruu might have to take a backseat tonight it seems! Like a jilted lover, I hope it wont feel too neglected. Speaking of which, I think I may know what it feels like to be in a one of those relationships where the blonde, bimbo stripper marries a rich old man, hoping he will croak quickly so that she can enjoy his money. Kind of. In the worst comparative way ever. Anyways, it is good to try out what that must be like I suppose. To help me with my decision, in case any old rich woman ever offers me like wise.

For a girl in that situation, call her either Anna or Nicole, this is how I would imagine our current situations being a tad similar. Lets say her original plan did not go as she might initially have hoped and the old man hangs around for longer than expected. I imagine when she realizes this, time must stop in front of her and gloat. Ha, time will say, looks like you’ve to stick with him longer than expected. Not so clever now, huh. Taunting her that she will just have to live with her situation, and wait until he croaks. Make the most of it, keep fit in the gym, do bits here and there to stay busy. Can’t have it all her own way, but when she is living it up and blowing his money, she can look back and smile at those boring times. Eh, which is similar, if not identical to me killing time and trying to be productive while I wait to hear back about my visa. World’s worst comparison? Quite possibly. Although I do have faith that I could easily do worse.

Today I tried to be proactive, and start lining up DJ gigs in Dublin for myself before I go back up for a bit of stand-up. Practice and an influx of money are always handy. However, knowing where to start when you don’t really know the scene in a city is a hurdle. Similar to the acting side of things here I suppose. If I knew promoters or bar/club owners in Dublin I could work some DJ charm there. Seeing as I don’t really know any, I decided to do what at the time seemed like a very productive idea. I emailed a few different venues, along with a demo sample, seeing if they needed anyone for a night or two. Similar, I imagine, to what a few dumb, bimbos might have done if they were to get proactive in their hunt for a rich old man to marry. 

Never, ever, ever, have I ever heard of someone getting a DJ job, from their credentials in an email, ha. “Hi, I DJ, I think I’m great, you will too, any chance of a night or two? Here’s a link to a demo. Cheers.” Pretty appealing offer, I think you will agree. Honestly, a dumb bimbo would have a better chance of getting herself a rich husband, by sending out an email “Hi, I’m me, here’s a photo, hope you’re rich, any chance of marriage? Thanks” than I would with mine. Unfortunately, at the time, I was imagining people working in bars and clubs all over Dublin, would stop whatever it was they were doing, throw down their work tools, and just start to dance to my demo when it started to play. Screaming at whoever it was that read my email that I had to be hired for a few nights!!! Seemed like a logic reaction to me at the time. That was until about a minute after I sent the batch of emails. Then I quickly realized I wasted too much time on that fruitless activity.

Although, one place did reply saying that they were booked out, but would be in touch if anything came up. Maybe not so dumb after all. Which doesn’t really make any sense, as I still didn’t get any joy. It has just occurred where I got the idea perhaps. Thinking back, I remember talking to a DJ from San Francisco, who is a really good DJ (like myself, I hear you think, thanks) who was asking me if I knew any venues in Dublin that might be interested in having him play, as he was doing a tour of Europe, and Ireland was not on the list for some reason. Seeing as he really wanted to check Ireland out, being 1/17th Irish himself, he emailed a few bars & clubs, but didn’t get any replies. What a chump. Wait until I tell him I at least got one reply.

I did well with keeping it short. I couldn’t jilt the blog. At least it kept me busy for a while longer than I anticipated. I’ll mark that time off on the calendar, every minute counts.

 

Supertramp

Give A Little Bit – Supertramp

And a song for the cougars… 

Death Cab For Cutie

Cath – Death Cab For Cutie