Use it. Or lose it. For the past week, I have definitely lost it. Gym. Shave. Blog. Not much of any going on. Lazy. Ran out of shaving gel. And more laziness. Blog has been a dry empty barren desert. Which is surprising. Seeing as a fair old whack has been chugging along. Such as sparks flying out of my phone. On fire. Mighty. Out with the old. In with the Blue. Berry. Re-learning phone basics. Typing in slow motion. On a new style Qwerty keyboard. Texting and walking. Near impossible. Two handed texting. Like a senile dog begrudgingly learning a new trick. Given up on texts. Too much effort. Confused. Lost. Head buried in the phone. Walking aimlessly along. Surprised I didn’t walk into a pole. More surprised when I did walk into that bush. Yelping. Realising. Looking. Coast clear. All good. Yelp on. Bush off. Few scrapes. All good. Not that that was the worst of my new texting while walking problem.
That was reserved for the one late night stroll to the gym. Head buried. Thumbs frantic. Texting gibberish. Walking along. Wondering how far I had gone. Looking up. Why did I look up. Seeing a ground level apartment balcony in front of me. Lights on. And a naked guy running out of the sliding doors. Giggling. Screaming. Scurrying in my direction. Followed by two more naked guys behind him. One with a camera. The other with something in his hand. Something making a whirling noise. Waving it around. Naked guy #1 exclaiming ‘I am not doing that again on camera!’ Guy with camera. Looking up. Seeing an ape. Looking startled. Holding up a Blueberry. ‘Heeey’. Huh? ‘Wave to the camera!’ Wave? Oh Jesus. Why did I wave?
So that was nice. Making a special guest appearance on what I assume was some sort of home porn video. Youtube on. Images burned into my eyes. Thankfully, they were cooled down. Seeing as I managed to kind of look at my book. In a PDF. And how it will look like laid out as a book. As opposed to just my gibberish bundled into a Word document. And I shall not lie. It is pretty, pretty, pre-tty funking savage seeing the gibberish in a book form. It actually looks like a book. Giddy up! Cover is almost ready as well. Tweaks needed. Tweaker on. Almost good to go. Then printaduu! Although, I think the black abyss has actually kicked in more than I thought. Seeing as I can’t let the editing go. I am an ediot. Told to read over the PDF. Final comb over. See if there are any minor tweaks to be made. Minor. Shouldn’t be many. Yet I managed about 30 pages of changes. Slight. Word change. Word order. Order word. That kind of thing. Miniscule. Actually. Minute. That kind of thing. The devil. She is in. The detail.
Looks Like A W
So that actually was pretty cool, to be true. As was Friday night. Celebrating. Not sure what. Book? Life? Friday night? Went to a place called Drai’s in the W Hotel. New hot spot in toon. Apparently. Pretty slick set-up in fairness to them. As in a savage looking club. Close your eyes. Imagine a really cool looking Hollywood club. Opening up to an outdoor area, swimming pool, all that malarky. On the roof of a hotel. Overlooking Hollywood. Imagine that. And that is what it was like. Exactly like that. If you can imagine. Or. Simply open your eyes. And look at this photo. Exactly like this…
Bouncers were pretty cool in fairness to them. As in I am cool, kind of cool. Frustrated actor. Macho Man Randy Savage didn’t draw out a process for so long. Overacting everything. Eyebrow cocking. I will do everything in the slowest of slow motions, to make this process longer, and more drawn out, and heighten my power, that I have, for being a small man, in a suit, and behind the velvet rope, and there we go, ye can go in actually, and I will chew this chewing gum extra slow and shrug my shoulders like I own the place, even though I am actually just a bouncer, kind of cool. That kind of cool. Wingder Woman did well to skip us through! Club was jamming. Refined stylish zoo style. Pretty sure at one stage a Ludacris song came on. And then Ludacris stood up on his table. MC’ing along. Pretty sure it was him. Outside was a better laugh. Boozing on with Daryl from The Office. Sound dude. Agreed to be in my sitcom. You know the one I shall be making. Soon. If. When. Part of the plan. Verbal contract on.
Pickle Me Pink
So that night was fun. Although I actually think Saturday was even more fun. No intention of boozing. DJ’igging. Era shur, I’ll have the one after it. Era shur, what’s that now, vodka and a pickle? Pickle as a chaser? Bob Hope. Can’t stand straight vodka. And a pickle? No way. No thanks. You swear by it? Ok, one so, rude not to. What what?! Converted! Odd combination. Works a treat. Not sure how. Or if I will again. But it was pretty tasty in fairness. One more? Ehhh… One of those unexpected nights. Nothing planned. Last minute call. Might as well make a night of it. Mighty night. Except there was that one guy on his own in the bathroom of the club. In the corner. Drunk. Aheming. Ahem. Ing. Not drugs. Nobody else involved. Blankity blank. Mankity mank. Kicked out. Hang on, I recognise him I think… macho ma… pretty sure, ha.
All in all, a funny old night. Good old hoot. Except for deciding to open the celebratory bottle of gin that The Man had given me to celebrate the book. At 3 in the morning. Perhaps not the best time to crack her open. Smart man. Paid for that yesterday. Woke up convinced I was in Ireland. Monkeys came back for a gander. Balls. Only one plonk to blame. Mun-key. Please. Leave muh be. Giddy up. Not a high point of the week. That was probably earlier in the week. Getting a ringing endorsement for the cover of my book! Happy days! More shall be revealed. Might have a dapper lady for the cover as well. Me shall see. Two highs. Let’s finish on a little low. Level it off a bit. Seeing as I just spilt a pint of water. All over my dinner. Mighty. Delightful. Can’t beat some watery chicken and potatoes. Umm. Yeah. Yum.
Gibber dish was well and truly built up. Incoherent rambles all the way. Zig-zagging like a drunk goat. Song on. Savage new one…
Drunk Girls – LCD Soundsystem