Recently I’ve been asked to do a couple of articles for Irish publications of various sorts. Big shot. Huge. Ape. Massive. All asking for the same angle. Life in L.A. Along with a few photos. No worries. Jot down a few adventures. Shillings. Hook me up. Not realising that they all actually meant something else. Celebrities you’ve met in L.A. Along with a few photos of these celebrities. Oh right. Sounds fun. Broke the news that I’ve being living in a cave for a few weeks. So wrote them an article about all the celebrities I didn’t get to meet. Told me they’d wait until I emerged. Friday night has led me to believe that perhaps I might not be the most perceptive kind of ape to do these articles.
You Are... I'm Not... You Are.
Crawled out of the writing cave. Back into the real world. Time to reacquaint myself with life in L.A. Meeting buddies. Bar nearby. Late. Balls. Scuttling along. Two girls stop me en route. Inform me that I’m Russell Brand. Ha. Thanks. Sorry though. Wrong guy. Again. Ciao ciao. See that the girls have no clue what I just said. Which makes them think they’re right. Insist to me that I am him. Heard he was in the area. Good for ye. However. Not me. Please leave me be. I’m late.
Get to the pub. Booze. Buddies. Booze. Bathroom. Stalls. All taken. Cubicle. As I push open the door and walk in, a guy walks out of it. Walk into each other. Bump. Literally. Apologies. No worries. Realise then why those two girls were insisting earlier. In the area. In the pub. To be exact. In that cubicle. At least he warned me about the smell. Which was nice. The warning. Not the smell.
Head back outside. Strolling. Wandering. Chatting to a girl in the patio area about her funky glasses. See my buddy. Head over. Laughed about who I bumped into. Notice a girl passionately gushing to a guy next to us. Loves him. Such a huge fan. Can’t believe she was meeting him. Flustered. Oh my Gawd. Gushing. Leaves. Begrudgingly. Kind of odd. Ask my buddy if he saw that. He did. Recognizes the guy. Saturday Night Live. Lives on a boat. Oh yeah, I know that song. Oh right. Must start watching more shows that just Seinfeld, Curb and the Office.
Birthday cake and song trigger off next to us. Everyone else is singing. Join in. Happy birthday to who now? Who’s you? Main dude from Forgetting Sarah Marshall it seemed. Which is when we had a look around. And my buddy noticed that we were surrounded by a bucket load of comedians and actors. From almost every other sitcom than the three I watch. If you wanted to write an article, you would’ve been dancing! Various folk from the movies the birthday man of the hour has been in. Sitcom. Connect dots to various other shows. Including a lot of NBC sitcoms.
Which made me realise afterwards that the girl with the funky glasses was actually in the Office for a season or two. Oh right. Should’ve copped on to that one. The rest, not so much. Not then. Now I do. Seeing as I flicked through a few channels tonight. Where I saw the dude who was telling me about his road tripping around Ireland. Although in my defence, when people were calling him Doogie Howser, I presumed it was a nickname. And I now know that the guy I was raving to about The Road Less Traveled, who was with him, was not actually his younger brother. Must’ve been happy when I asked if they were related.
Was It Really Freddie?
To recap. Basically. I was in a pub. So were a lot of other people. The majority of whom happened to be well known actors and comedians. And looking at it now, I kind of spent a long time chatting to a couple about my passion for a book and their love of Ireland. Good old night. Although, personally, I prefer the story of why I was late in the first place. Not every day you get locked into a laundry place. With a guy who looks like Meatloaf. And another guy who’s favourite band was definitely Queen. Door. Locked. Panic. Handbags. Flailing. Freaking. Yelping. Worlds. Crashing. Cans of Bud Light calming people down. Automatic lock. That might not have actually been even locked. Or existed. Was the door just actually a bit stuck? Or did someone lock it? Or what the funk happened? I definitely saw the lock part locked. Pretty sure. No clue. Perplexed. Better than bored at least.
Crap story really. Far more interesting how I got to find out that celebrities don’t smell of roses. Amazing!!! Songs on…
Hollywood (Monarchy Gliese Remix) – Marina And The Diamonds