Monthly Archives: April 2011

If The Mountain Won’t Come To The Prophidiot…

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Woke Up New – Mountain Goats

You know when you’re lost in a valley of mountains. You’re standing at the foot of one of the mountains. And you’re all like… What the funk?! I just climbed a mountain. Seriously. Just did it. Look! And everyone looks as you point to the smaller mountain behind you… Now you’re telling me I have to climb this one as well? This is even bigger too! From the very bottom? All the way to the top again? For funk’s sake. I thought that first mountain might’ve been enough? Surely that’s plenty? Just retire after that? No? It’s not?! For funk… Who’s in charge of this bull-sugar?! Tut. Someone promised me it would be easier than this. Tut. So you decide you’re just going to stand there. Looking at the mountain. Mouth open. Head cocked to the side. Tuting away. King Tut. Waiting for something to appear. Anything at all. Until nothing does. So you just start climbing up again… Continue Reading »

So There I Was… P’Peuu Pe’Peww!

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Got Some Teeth – Obie Trice

So there I was… DJigging. Rodeo Drive. Ivanka Trump party. Showcasing her new jewelry collection. Diamonds crusts everywhere. Swanky. Classy. Plus. Me. Suited. Booted. Looking slick at least. Kitted out in my mighty Reiss suit. Perk of DJigging fashion events. Free clothes! Dancing. Although. Tad tight. Slim-fit-as-funk kind of tight suit. Anyways. Setting up for the party. Women dressed up to the nines. Older guys itching to drop big wads of cash on their younger wives. All busy around me. People coming and going. Commotion. Just about to start. Corner of my eye. See a woman about to knock a speaker over. Oh balls. Knock. Speaker. Wobble. I jump. Catch the almost stricken speaker. Avert the mishap. Contort my body weirdly. Bend in some sort of way. Make a belly for myself. Making my pants erupt. Explode out. Mid-drift turns into a gun-toting cowboy. Feel something fly off. Clasp bit that looks like a staple… Ping! Bullet out of a gun. P’peuu pe’peww!! Strikes a woman’s wrist. Slow motion. Matrix style. Ricochets off the $10,000 bracelet she’s showcasing. Apologies, Ivanka. Continue Reading »

How Did Stella Get Her Groove Back… ?

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Lisztomania (Alex Metric Remix) – Phoenix

Just got back from DJigging a big charity event. Also known as a D lister party. D-listers. D-lusters. Reality show heads. Famous ex-wives. People in commercials. Rich old men. Young empty women. Desperate older women, out looking for husbands. Empty. Vapid. Fake. Gift bags. Mighty fun! Thank funk I was DJigging. At least I discovered that romance novels are a great ice-breaker. Got home. Done. Dusted. Dancing? Eh. Nay. Kind of has me pondering. How’s my plan going? You know. Every man needs a plan, plan. So. In the past month I have:

  • Boozed
  • Danced
  • DJ’igged
  • Boozed
  • Been a single parent
  • Been a tour guide
  • Been a host
  • Boozed
  • Watched intense Harrison Ford movies
  • Watched brooding Keanu Reeves movies
  • Criticised movies I’ve never even seen
  • Boozed
  • Watched stand-up
  • Watched soccer matches
  • Played soccer matches
  • Enjoyed pool days
  • Lounged about
  • Boozed
  • Read romance novels
  • Read scripts
  • Read books about writing
  • Prepared for writing
  • Boozed
  • Ate
  • Slept
  • Flown around
  • Boozed
  • Did this
  • Did that
  • Paid rent early
  • Almost ended up being on a really big TV show
  • Went on a sunbed

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I’m A Little Teapot…

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Sweet Disposition (Joe Maz Remix) – Temper Trap

In case you were wondering, not every day in L-Hey is nuts. Today was pretty normal. Shopped. Washed. Gymed. Chilled. Mostly recovered. Sunday was pretty mighty. Man cures. Just the one. Happy hour. Oh Jesus. Pub crawl. Impromptu. Riding mechanical maniac bulls. Singing the booze. Bumping into randomers. Bringing along stragglers. Ploughing on. Finishing it all off with a night cap and deep gibberish conversations in a car park at half two in the morning. Savage day. But kind of normal, in a way. Could happen anywhere. Unlike, say, Saturday. Funk me pink. Uniquely L-Hey day. Random. Dumb. Full on fun!

Up at 7 bells for a photo shoot. Random. 3 hours sleep due to DJigging. Dumb. Not too sure what the shoot’s for. Need a few professional photos to add to my  portfolio of one headshot. So I’m told. So I’m in. Cover of Women’s Weekly all the way! Shoot was on in Santa Monica. Pier. Beach. Lovely. Arrive. Cloudy. Grey skies. Looks like it might rain. Waves crashing in. Bed calling. Start throwing it out there that maybe we should reschedule. Wait for better light. Sheen from the sea is very bright. Spouting out complete gibber. Vain attempts to get me back to bed. No joy. Heere now, let’s see what we can do. Cue teapot. Continue Reading »