Category Archives: LA Living

Ha, You’re An Idiot. Seriously.

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Strangely, the following two incidents occurred within minutes of each other earlier today. Firstly, I made a cup of coffee, but boiled the kettle without checking. Lo and behold, there was exactly half a cup’s worth of water for coffee. An exact half cup. I looked at the cup for a few minutes. Wondering about the irony. The meaning. A good few minutes. Just staring at the cup. Trying to decide if it was half full. Or half empty. Until I put in some milk, and it was well over half full.

Minutes later I was on Spacebook, chatting with a buddy, who reminded me that it was the June weekend. Which, in turn, reminded me how long I have left on my current visa. When I remarked this to my buddy, thinking to myself how time is ticking, crunch time, my head getting a bit dizzy at the thought of it, his immediate response was “Plenty of time, head down, write on”. Even though my coffee was almost finished, the cup was still half full!!!

Was it fate that these two incidents happened within a few minutes of each other, as to highlight the importance? Perhaps. Do these two incidents have any correlation or meaning, whatsoever? Highly doubtful. Am I just connecting two stupid events and making one longer story of them? Definitely. However, it did kick me into gear a bit. I am heading back to L.A on Sunday, must make a few moves before the visa runs it course. Initially I had planned on being back well before now, but the sitcom is taking longer than I anticipated (I think my self diagnosis of OCD is making me re-write every line so that it is absolutely perfect). Almost there though, good to have a deadline as well.

Another reason why I chose Sunday, is that I am DJ’ing in San Fran on Saturday night. One might say, I am being flown all over the West coast these days to play gigs. But one would be lying. Still though, any bobs are highly appreciated in this day and age. Gig on! My reputation must be growing, I was head hunted for the gig. Word must travel quite quickly up from L.A. Absolutely nothing to do with the fact that my cousin’s fiance works at the venue. Definitely was asked from word of mouth and reputation alone. Anyone up in Frisco reading this, come along. Its down on Castro, dress code is chaps only.

A word for any writer without a clue like myself, or anyone who might be interested. I mentioned before that I have a great guru in L.A, who supplies me with invaluable information about the business, as they call it, the ins & outs, of which I am ridiculously clueless about. Anyways, usually if I call him, or he rings me to see how I am progressing, he laughs a bit at the start of the conversation (I do like to laden my conversations with jokes towards the start, make a good impression and all). However, he’s not laughing with me, purely and directly at me. At how clueless I am. Which, in turn, freaks me out. Oh good God, what have I done now, can the situation be rectified.

There were a few reasons why the laughter was forthcoming this time. I mentioned a few posts back, that I had a marketing company lined up in L.A, who offered to help with my viral campaign for the scenes which I intend on making. I have typed that sentence before, so it should really have clicked with me, that a few glaring potholes were in place. But it didn’t. Not even close. I was just giddy that the offer was given to me, it had made me feel productive in some way. When I declared this, proud as punch of my achievement, I was simply told “You have well and truly put the cart in front of the horse. In your typical Irish way. If nothing else, you were entertaining me with your irregular (i.e clueless) approach to getting the sitcom made”. Go on, I’m listening.

Question 1: “What was it exactly that you are going to do a viral marketing campaign for?”

The sitcom. “What sitcom?” My one. The one I am writing. “Oh right, your script?” But I’ll get a scene or two made as well. That is what the viral campaign will be about – show people a scene or two. Get people interested. “And then, show them two scenes, and thats it? The buzz just dies off?” Eh, haven’t really thought that far ahead. “You need about 40 scenes (exaggerating). You need to make the best scene from the episode you write. Then make the second best, and so on. Until, if needs be, you have made your own episode. Then you have something to show people. To keep them interested. And wanting more” Oh right. Didn’t really get that part. I just liked the word viral and the thought of having a campaign for something I was doing.

Question 2: “How much info about the sitcom, name, episode, premise etc have you told people about? Particularly in L.A?”

In L.A, just one, my buddy who runs the marketing company. I just emailed him a few lines about the premise though. And the name. I can email it to you as well now, sound good?!!! Wuu. Actually, I told two people in Ireland too, I think, and… At this stage, I started to think I was going to be laughed at. The green naive trusting fool. No. Worse… I was calmly spoken to, in a serious tone… “Don’t trust anyone, particularly in L.A, especially in L.A. Including me. Friendship is friendship, but business is business. Put everything in writing. Everyday in L.A, ideas are being taken, stolen, overheard in restaurants and used. People who had a bit of luck with one project, but are now struggling to find their next big thing, are always on the prowl to take your idea and cut you out. It has happened to me” Oh Jesus. “Hang up the phone. Do not email or tell me anything. Go to the Writer’s Guild website, and register absolutely everything. The name, the pitch, your material, the episode you are writing, everything. Then, call me back and tell me if you like”

Oh Jesus. Beads of sweat were pouring at this stage. Straight onto their website, copy and pasted everything into one Word document, and registered it all. Mastercard, you pulled it out of somewhere, good work. Might not be much, but at least it is now legal tender. Rang my informer back. He told me to get writing, get working, get it done and start getting it to the right people. It was a brief call back. A mighty phone call in general though. I felt I should pass on the advice!!!

As a side note, I now know the word count for all the blog so far. So I decided to check the average length of a novel. And… I have well over a book written. Amazing. I can write in quantity at least. This, along with the fact that I can now read minds. How do I know? Well, when I say I think we might have a Christmas best seller on our hands – a book based on the blog – I know already what you’re thinking. Simply re-read today’s title.

I am in a chilled enough mood, and tired, so one apt song, and another in a different vein…

This might bring you close to tears, you have been warned! Vaka by Sigur Ros

And… Because feat Radiohead by Chiddy Bang

Shut Up & Do The Right Thing!

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Pulitzer prize winners, Larry David, and I suppose all those who have a clue about the art of writing, this may not be the post for you. Anyone with a clue. However, if, like me, you were fairly clueless until recently about writing, you might get a few tips from this blogaduu. Finally, finally, after months of knocking on my door, looking for a chance, this post is getting the nod. Big day. Most of this might all seem pretty obvious, but when one chooses to, 99% of the time, ignore the obvious, it can seem revolutionary, once spelt out for you.

Around this time last year, I began to think about writing a sitcom pilot for a college style idea which I had. Not actually write it, just think about writing one. Eventually I wrote the pilot by November last year, roughly. I like to mull things over, think them through. Looking back, I was completely clueless, as to how to approach the sitcom writing. Two feet, head first, jumped in, going in blind, swinging like a drunk man, throwing jokes and structure around with absolutely little to no meaning. This time around, I am as clueless in one sense, but at least have more structure and advice to nudge me in the right direction. Hollywood has provided one source of help at least for free if nothing else. One might say that it is serving its purpose well.

First time around trying my hand at a sitcom pilot, I thought my knowledge of viewing every episode of my favourite sitcoms would put me in good stead to make my own. Surely. To accompany this cast iron theory, I even read a screenwriting book, for the movies I would write and star in after the sitcom, just so I had all bases covered. Started off by making a loose episode outline for myself, while half drunk on a plane. Logically, the next step was to fill it up with scenes of differing lengths, most of which did not really seamlessly gel together as they should, and off I went with it, delighted. Pilot in hand, line up the bids. Looking back at it, I may have mostly been happy with my great name for the show. Surely that alone would get it made!

Surprisingly, I got a bit of good feedback for the pilot. Thumbs up, pat on the head, ruffle of the nicely combed hair, and a bit of stage progression, as in it was passed up a level in a department. However, that was more or less as far as it got with the television stations I submitted it into. Should’ve really thrown the towel in then, pr***s. Shattering my dreams. Might as well give it another go, plus, this time around, I had my blog to work with, the sitcom would write itself! All I had to do was pick three stories out, A, B and hopefully a C, link them somehow, and write them down. My pilot! Happy days! Should take a few days max.

So, for the past week, I have been formulating and developing the pilot episode over in my head. Start off by introducing the characters to the audience, work in their back story, build it up nicely, few jokes along the way, and good to go. I had the blog to back it up, momentum was building, they could reference the blog if needed. Dumb as a mule, so I was.

Somewhere along the way, I made a call to my helpful guide in L.A, to tell him all about the great progress which I was making. “Stop, you need to listen to me, here’s what you must do” I was told. Started off by informing me mainly of the what not to do’s. My week of work was immediately crossed out and had to start afresh. Thank freddie funk it was, seeing I was going down the wrong path completely. And then what I should try to do. Firstly, and this is key, it is not a pilot episode which I am really looking to write. I do not want to bore any reader with character introductions, background stories, build-up or any of that. I simply want to impress the reader enough with my writing, so that from that one episode, or first 10 pages, the reader will ask to see more, meet me, or at least be offended enough to take notice. I do not want to be just another quaint script in front of someone, that they will forget about within 15 minutes hour. Key one was to stand out, don’t hold back.

The following metaphor sunk in with me, so I will re-use it now. If my blog, full of stories, were to be the ingredients, and I was to bake a cake out of them (sitcom series) what I wanted to do was pass around the best slice of the cake to people, something that they will want more of. Not the first slice, or the last one, but the best one, so I should fill that up to the brim with the best I could deliver. No point in holding back, this was the one to get your foot in the door. Shove as much good stuff in. Just make it all work well. The best slice of the cake!

My original idea was kind of scrapped (first episode, the pilot of me arriving in L.A etc) and a whole new approach had to be taken. Being honest, initially my brain stopped churning for a while, annoyed that I had used it up and then discarded all the good work we did together. A few days I think I felt my brain was close to bursting, literally, and I was covered in frogs at the time. (Twitter reference about a dream, follow on!).

Instead, it is now time to push boundaries. It is far easier to tone down than it is to tone up, as the skinny girl said to the fat girl in the gym (don’t worry, that will not be used in the script, ha). Every scene needs to serve a purpose, what is the objective of the scene, does each scene have an element of high conflict (all straight out of a book, but good to be re-told at this time). This raised the bar even more – to be clever, make sense, push boundaries, obviously make people laugh, and all within the time schedule for a sitcom. Once again, like breaking L.A, it sounded almost too easy. 

Thankfully, I have a good few stories that did not make the blog cut. They will now be highly useful for the new approach. Or at least give me food for thought to go along a certain line or angle for the story. I also spent far too much time last week thinking up of a clever name. Absolutely pointless if the rest does not deliver. However, I think I now have both for the show, the name, and also, the outline of the episode that I am writing is coming together. As in today I was able to write out the gist of 17 scenes, all of which linked and were what I was looking for, wuu duu! (I wrote this a few days ago, a new approach again has been developed!).

All I need now is to fully develop it, along with dialogue, and I will be flying. Again, almost too easy. Sure. I have miles to go, but getting there slowly. It is all about the threads coming together in the end, A, B and C. Highly funking frustrating to do, but now that I think I have one cleverly worked out, highly satisfying!

So, up to this point, I had more or less written a few days back. Since then, the writing has been frustrating in the main, pretty good in the minor. However, at least now, I have figured a way out to stop my brain from exploding. My problem has been transferring the brilliant scenes and story line, from my head, to paper. Dumbly, I was more or less, going from the scene in my head, straight to what the characters were saying. For some reason, only today, did I start writing scene snippet outlines, which makes the whole thing far more do-able.

After studying individual episodes of different sitcoms for guidelines, I now have a few structures in place. You would be amazed at how short some scenes actually last in a few sitcoms, but which are vital and brilliant to the story line, all of which is tough to get down. One last thing, and I’ll finish on this, is the tough part of narrowing down what to leave in. Like this post, initially there was no structure. Rambling on, with snippets of humour. Every line of this sitcom has to be funny or necessary. Otherwise it is chopped. Which is tough to do. Cutting frivolous dialogue has been a big challenge of late. All about discipline!

Thats it. I was going to give one last point about how useful it is to always have a notebook with you for ideas or dialogue, but I have already said above that would be my last thing, so I won’t. 

Hopefully this songs will buck you back into life…

The Turning (Chew Fu Refix) by Oasis

And one from the latest Heineken ad… 

Just A Friend by Biz Markie

The Prefrenders

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I am starting to feel bad for the blogaruu about writing which I have waiting in the wings. It is getting bumped down, nightly! Originally, again, I had planned to put up the blog about the writing tips, how the sitcom was going, great differences I could see between my first effort and now, some interesting bits of trivia I was after picking up, etc, etc. However, while just in the shower, a phrase came to me, so I wanted to use it, and get an old blog out of the way. A blogaruu which I suppose has slowly built up. 

Obviously, this is not directed towards the majority, all 6 of you. It is more for the small annoying minority, who don’t even read the blog really! Also, don’t get the impression that from the tone of the blog, that I am in a bad mood. Far from it. Today has been pretty good. I got my first page or three of dialogue down for the sitcom, happy enough with that. Only another 25 or so to go. Going well though, all about the re-write! And I got to see a homeless couple, ahem, in broad dusk light, standing up, on a semi busy street, which is always fun. I could do with a change of topic though, for my own sake. So, might as well get an old rant out. Not even a rant really. Just an issue with pretend friends, or the prefrenders as I would now like to call them.

Since day one of my eloping with Andy and Colin Todd, I have heard from certain people “Oh, best of luck, hope it goes well, see you in a few weeks though, when you cop on, and give up, haha. Only joking, best of luck.” Or maybe along the lines “You were on the radio/in the paper. Fairly crap being honest. Keep it up. Were they that stuck? Only joking, well done, buddy.” Which is fine, we all have our own begrudgers. Who joke around. And then pretend to be great friends with us. This happens to everyone. Good work. Sound. The Prefrenders.

Since being in L.A, and starting the blog, I have noticed more and more ways that people turn into prefrenders, it is ridiculous. Personally, I would far prefer a buddy saying straight out, off with you, enjoy, don’t come knocking on my door when it goes belly up though. I would also be more of a fan of a randomer who I don’t know, telling me he/she thinks I am an idiot, read the blog, they think its crap, you have no chance, give up, go home. No problem either with that.

This new annoying minority go along these kind of lines, which I have noticed more and more. They might ask me how I am getting on, any stories for them, is it good in L.A? They never read the blog, no time to read it, or for it, I can tell them now though, they have a minute or two to spare. Ok, thanks for squeezing me in. One of the reasons I set up the blog was to avoid re-telling stories over and over, but seeing as you asked, let me mull… And I might tell them some story, they tell me a bit of news, and I tell them another story. Conversation, to and fro.

Now the annoying bit, and it has happened a fair bit recently enough. I tell a story, of how I was here or there, did this or that, seeing as they asked, and they will jump in, interested about a certain aspect of the story, maybe the Maxim party say, and tell me… “Oh yeah, I read about that, what was it like?!!” It was cool… I thought you said a minute ago you never read the blog? “Oh, yeah, well, I read that one, didn’t bother reading the rest though, the others were crap.” Oh, so you read a few more too? Why bother saying you never read it at all so, out of curiosity? “Well I read a good bit of it, but I would never tell you that.” 

Makes sense. Almost too much sense really. Why bother to pretend either way? You read the blog or didn’t? I am not that pushed if you didn’t bother (I am). However, I can’t see the point of pretending to not have read it, other than the fact the person is just a prefrend. Don’t think for a minute either that I am trying to show everyone the picture that I just drew, which is crap, look, God, its so crap, look at it, tell me you think its crap too, because I think its crap (I don’t, I think it is a fine work of art, I’m just fishing for compliments) kind of thing we all used to do when we were young.

The last thing I want is compliments (not fully true I suppose but for the sake of this rant) seeing as I can feed them to myself all day long (true). I would far prefer to be told, for example, where improvements could be made. Or just say you think it is crap. But with no “Only joking, best of luck” tagged on. Or to not say anything. I do not mind if you don’t read the blog (I do, dearly, only light at the end of the tunnel for me, read on!). Just don’t bother to waste my time or yours. No more prefrending! Time is too precious, I could be busy procrastinating instead of having these fruitless conversations.

On the upside, or maybe the downside, is that none of them will admit reading this to me anyways, so it will just be the elephant in the room. You know who you are though, we both do, ha. And to the other readers, for bearing with this post, I tried to upload a cool picture I just drew for ye, but wasn’t able to. Well, it was fairly crap, maybe you might like it, I think it was crap though… I’ll email it to you if you like. So you can tell me it is good. Cheers.

Too easy to give Brass Pocket or MGMT as song of the day for the phrase I delightfully made up. So, it shall be the last three songs which I, eh, just bought. A nice eclectic blanket mix (That name also came to me in the shower, a great place for inspiration! Debatable if it is good inspiration though, I do suppose)

Orange Shirt by Discovery

Don’t You Want Me by Human League (Less and less videos are being allowed from Youtube, it is mighty fun hunting!)

And, finally, Make Love (Remix) by Daft Punk

Subtraction…

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A clever family member suggested the following way to get the articles below onto le blog, so here they blow …

(Click on the bottom two to get a disturbingly fuller view)

Echooooo

Corkonian

 

And, finally, a song, to wind it all up… Stuck In The Middle With You by Stealers Wheel

Loss Of Possibility

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Back to Old El Frisco, good old San Fran. Normal, regular, used to love you but nay as much now, San Francisco. My previous trip back to SF has been blogged about in the past (click here to be reminded if needs be) so I will not repeat my feelings once more. Instead, I will simply describe them in a different way, ha.

About a week and a half ago, I was looking forward to getting out of L.A for a while. Made the call, up to SF to write the sitcom pilot, get away from the madness and random ways of L.A, it would do me good. In fact, I was pumped to go to SF, my pilot needed and was going to be written, time to work! Then, I actually got a job, that will pay me, made a few more contacts, two more job opportunities were then put in front of me, and I had a great week. The whole week was a bit blurry, so I decided not to think about my decision to come up here. The blur has lifted, replaced by the SF fog, but I can now see through the haze. 

Something about San Fran is just not the same as L.A. When I give a homeless guy a dollar in L.A, I usually get a bit of humour out of it (last time I found out that he has more pairs of socks to choose from than I do, odd enough, I should’ve written more on that when it happened). At worst, I get a friendly punch in the ear, well worth a dollar for a story like that though. However, here, in SF, it is different. Yesterday, I gave a homeless guy a dollar, out of habit and also as he looked like he would do more than just give me a friendly punch in the ear if I didn’t. As I put the dollar into his cup, I noticed he was also flicking through songs, on his iPod, one earphone in his ear, the other earphone dangling down, similar to what I was doing at the time. In fact, I got a shudder as if I was looking at a mirror version of myself, only 5 weeks into the future.

However, his iPod was a far newer version than mine. I would almost say it was an iPod Touch, but not fully sure. And I was giving him a dollar? Didn’t feel right. Who needed that dollar more, I pondered, as I realized I no longer had enough for a coffee. To make matters worse, after walking a block further down the street, my iPod gave up on me. The battery didn’t die, it just froze, which has been happening lately. I am tapping on it still like one might on a fishbowl, trying to revive my goldfish, so to speak. Now and again, I get a flutter of the tail, but it is on its last legs. This would not have happened in L.A!

First night up here, I went out with my cousins for a friends birthday. Down to the local pub, then off into the heart of SF’s bustling nightlife centre. And, I noticed a few things. It is far harder to bluff your way past queues here. Nobody cares that you are Irish. Far more jock dudes in the bars. Far, far less quantity of women in the bars here. The women are far less plastic looking here. And on top of all this, the abundance of good looking women is far less plentiful here. However, I suppose they can hold a conversation better and don’t ask “Who are you?”. All depends what you’re looking for really. Personally, I miss L.A. A lot.

At least the public transport in SF allows you to get around the place easily. Unlike L.A, which has none. Well, two buses I think, but no clue where they go to (5% of the reason I walk everywhere in L.A). It could have something to do as well that usually I have nowhere to go in L.A (another 5%). And the buses seem to be used by homeless people only. Not that I am a snob who thinks he is too good for the bus full of homeless people, that goes God only knows where, or anything like that (90% of the reason). So, that is one plus for San Fran, yay San Fran, wuu, hang in there Harvey.

Last night it occurred to me, why it is that I way prefer L-Heey to San Fran. In L.A, I walk 2 blocks to the gym, roughly. Up here, I walk 16 blocks. That 2 block walk has thrown up all sorts of stories, conundrums, encounters and so on, more than I can think of now off the top of my head. Here, the 16 block walk, always, always passes without incident. The loss of possibility is immense. Life is far more regular and normal here. Not saying that is a bad thing, at all. However, in L.A, when are you trying to get a break, make contacts, network, get material, get people interested in your sitcom etc., the possibilities are absolutely endless. You never know who might be buying you a round next, singing karaoke with, or be next to in the gym, and so on. Actors, singers, directors, producers, or simply wannabes like myself, you just never know. And it happens daily, hourly at times, all fairly fun and eventful. The possibilities and opportunities are endless!

Either that, or I just prefer only having to walk 2 blocks to the gym. Although it is not that there have been no funny stories occurring here, there have, just not as many. I suppose the whole interest/obsession people have with Hollywood is a good added bonus to any story though. That is why my sitcom will be based there! And, in case you are wondering, the writing is going great so far! Made a lot of progress today. Went off and bought a big pile of index cards and an A4 writing pad. Which both look well next to my little notebook, which is on top my larger notebook. Alongside my 4 different pens. All sitting next to me on the table, jealous of my laptop. Going well so far, still not one word down on paper. Oh Jesus.

Two songs of the day. First I am a big fan of, mainly for the first two minutes. Not sure why so much, but here it is. After this long winded introduction. I now present you with… The End (Riva Starr Retrip) by The Doors

And the next has been annoying me the past day or so, finally figured out what song it was from having a snippet in my head over and over… Your Woman by White Town (for any Spanish readers, nicely subtitled for you. First and only video I could find that would allow me to embed the Mandy Mhuuure)

Pardon. I’m Sorry? Hang On…

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If you have not being keeping up to date, shame on you, why the funk not? For those that have, good work, you will know my plan is to now go to San Francisco, save some bobs, and get a bit of normality back. Minor issues really, main one is so I can write my pilot for the sitcom, and prepare a scene that I will make when I head back to L.A. It is crunch time. Without a shadow of a doubt. Can I produce the goods, we shall see, re de de. I have been listening to Bon Jovi a lot over the past few days. Oh Jesus.

Once again, I was right on time for the flight leaving LAX, got through the airport perfectly, onto the plane and flew off, without any hitch along the way. Sure. As of late, I have being having a bit of a run of mishaps in this department, particularly when it comes to the security check point. This time was to be no different. My flight was at 6 in the evening, so I spent the day dawdling, half packing, making some sandwiches for the flight, deciding to go to the gym at the last minute, and then hurriedly finishing up with my packing, as any ape would do. Initially, I thought I was going to be late for the flight. However, 5.20 is actually plenty of time for the check-in, wuu huu, happy days.

While standing in the pretty long line for the security gate, I remembered that the reason that I had an immense thirst and no water to quench it with, was seeing as I knew you couldn’t bring water through security. Clever me. Why I did not think the same applied to turkey and tomato sandwiches, I still don’t know. There was bob hope I was letting any of the food in my house go to waste with my budget, so I ended up bringing a mountain of food with me. Eating 6 big turkey and tomato sandwiches, with no water, so they were delightfully dry, can take longer than you might think. I almost finished them all off, even letting people pass by me and skip ahead, I can be very cordial at times. However, when I noticed the time, and that my name was being called out at the gate for the flight, I decided enough was enough with the sandwiches, I was a tad late.

Now I was the one skipping past people to the front, my name was being called, apologies, must get through. Somehow, while I was swallowing lumps of turkey and what felt like full tomatoes, the security lady seemed to gather what I was telling her, and waved me through, up to the trays. Threw my bag, iPod, phone, notebook, chewing gum, pen, other phone, belt, flip flops, chewing gum, tic-tacs, headphones, everything into the two trays and hurried through. No beep, wuu. “Excuse me sir, you’ll have to take off your hat and go through again” What the funk, there was no beep, I’m late! “Go back and take off your hat, it must go through.” The security guard was killing me! Hat off, threw it on top of my laptop, back through, no beep, my name being called out over the intercom for the flight, I needed to go!

Grabbed all my stuff, threw them all into my man/hand bag, grabbed my laptop, where’s my hat, come on hat, there we go, and took off for the gate, with my shorts falling off as I ran (belt was in the bag, no time to put it on). Took off at the fastest speed I could possible manage, which was not pretty fast with my shorts falling down and carrying my man/hand bag at an awkward angle, trying to squeeze my laptop into it while I scuttled along. Thankfully, it looked like the gate was close enough, happy days. It was around then when I thought I heard someone say “Hey you, come back, hey, stop.” However, seeing as my name was once again being called out over the intercom, I chose to listen to the big booming voice and not look to see who was calling who, behind me.

When the words “You in the hat, hey, stop now sir, stop!!!” were bellowed from behind me, I chose to look around, just to see, the hat factor made me feel a bit like I should. And I saw two security guys chasing after me, followed by a girl. Still half jogging, shorts falling, hat wobbling on top of my head, I gave the custom – Who, me? – and pointed to myself. At this point I stopped, finally realizing that they were calling after me, oh God, what the funk is wrong now?!

“Sir, you took that laptop which does not belong to you, you will have to come back with us”. Once again, what the funk?!! You stopped me because of that?!!! This is my laptop, I’m sorry, but thats my name that is being called over and over for the flight, I have to go, it is my laptop. “Sir, it is not your laptop, just step over here with us”. This is some funking joke, I am going to miss my flight! It is my bloody laptop! I know it is my laptop, 100%. This is just stupid. If I miss the flight, you are paying for a new flight for me, and I want an apology! This is some joke! Fine here, look, my laptop.

Laptop

Handed over my laptop, my white laptop, in its black covered case, which I know so well, and watched them open it up, waiting for an apology. Except, and there was always going to be an except really, they opened up the black laptop case, and pulled out a pink laptop. How on earth did my laptop turn pink?! What is going on?!! This is when the girl said “That’s it, that’s my laptop, here is yours” and handed me over a very similar looking laptop case, black, and when I opened it up, my laptop was somehow in it. How did my laptop get into her identical black laptop case? All pretty bizarre. Unless you’re not an idiot, and it made perfect sense.

In my hurried and turkey laden dumb state, I had, obviously, grabbed the wrong laptop. In all fairness though, what are the odds of the person one tray before mine having the exact, exact same case? Not sure really, but I am guessing not too high. Em, sugar, sorry about that, ha, it’s not my laptop alright, no need for that apology I demanded a few seconds ago, I apologise. Sorry. Thanks, I was in a rush. Are we cool? Did I tell you that that is me being called for the flight, listen… there, that’s me, Mark’s my name, gotta run, nice to meet you all! And off I eventually went. Great fun.

To cap this story off, I eventually made the flight, after having to stand at the gate and be given out to, by the (ridiculously good looking) air hostess, for being late and holding up the flight. So I felt bad, as I took my seat. Until I realized about 10 minutes later that the flight had still not left. And did not do so, not until 3 more off duty and drunk (but all still also ridiculously good looking) air hostesses came aboard and took their seats by mine. Still no clue why they kept calling me so much if those 3 weren’t on the plane before me. I am convinced they set me up. Unfortunately, I was unable to set myself up any more. All married.

Song of the day, at the end of the day, is this song… I’m Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How To Dance With You (Twelves Remix) by The Black Kids