Category Archives: Random Ramblings

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

Hang On, The Hangover?

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Isn’t that an ingenious title?! No? Thank you, only took me 2 songs to think of it. Anyways, I know I am about a year late, but I finally saw The Hangover tonight. And, to be honest, even though I was hoping it was going to live up to the hype, I thought it fell a bit short. Too many people saying it was too funny and over hyping it a bit up too much. Although it is probably the funniest movie of the summer and all that.

Don’t get me wrong, I thought it was good, especially compared to other recent-ish comedies, but it wasn’t really hilarious. In fact, thinking back about it, there were only a few funny-funny parts. Not a lot of really hilarious scenes though. More just Vegas incidents, tiger in the bathroom, perhaps, as an example. It is nowhere near as good as a Superbad, or the likes, in my opinion at least. I went to see Superbad two days in a row in the cinema with buddies who thought it was equally as good. Chumps? Maybe. Was it worth going again? Definitely.

Tonight as we left the cinema, myself and my buddy were banding around a few quotes from the movie. Or trying to, at least. I think we got as far as one, the pronunciation of retard, ha, which was funny. Think of other movies though, Superbad or Old School for example. A plethora of funny quotes pop into my head straight away (pick any of Frank the Tank’s or any scene from Superbad). Maybe that’s just me, but I couldn’t think of a lot from The Hangover. Which is probably why I think it was over-rated. The fat guy is obviously brilliant and the main guy makes a good lead, but the other parts don’t really shine as much as I thought they would. I think the guy who lost a tooth is brilliant in The Office, but here not as much, only a few laughs? I almost laugh at every line he says in The Office.

Now that I think about other parts, the Chinese guy was kind of funny, but not top dollar, more of a ha, than a proper laugh. Compared to how it turned out in the movie, the Tyson punch looked way funnier in the trailer. What made me leave thinking the movie was initially better than it might’ve have been, were the photos in the end credits. Especially after the boring wedding ending (bar the singer in the band part). The photos just made me think that it would have been some laugh to have made that movie… in Vegas, surrounded with all Vegas has to offer, how could it not have been good?! No wonder they all looked so pleased. 

Anyways, there is a point to me being so critical of a good (but not great) movie. It has spurred me on with the dumb belief that I could do better. I know you might be thinking that I sound like an ape or an arrogant fool, but if I don’t have the faith that I can write a better movie than that, then who will have the dumb faith?!! Bold statement, all I need to do now is shut up and deliver. It will come, we all have a “Good Will Hunting” in us. Believe!

Besides that, kind of related today, was the news that I know now when my visa appointment is to find out do I get my fancy new visa approved. Touch wood. About 3 weeks away for the appointment, so I kind of have a deadline-ish to produce one polished and hilarious script at the very minimum. Deadline all the way. Finally this limbo land living has an end on the horizon!

Has to be done, a few of the best parts of Superbad…

Rainbow Bridge

Big Wave Rider – Rainbow Bridge

Man In The Mirror

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Being honest, I had a blogaruu half written out before I decided I had to restart it from scratch. Thankfully, it was cut loose. Perhaps these few selected sentences will make clear as to why… “L.A.D kicked in big time this weekend. As opposed to S.A.D (seasonal affective disorder), location seems to be my problem”… “This was not just a hangover, this was a slump”… “Literally, the sight of myself in the mirror on Saturday almost made me sick.” Ha, the whole thing was just getting me more annoyed reminding myself of the past couple of uneventful days, so it had to be changed.

Lets just say I had a gloriously average weekend at best, where besides a bit of writing, not too much happened, and which I am looking forward to moving on from. Perhaps I might be feeling a bit frustrated at the moment. Which is where the title stemmed from. I’ll keep it as a souvenir to make sure I know who it is that can solve my issues!

To inject a bit of humour, here’s a funny man to start again with…

Moving on, one thing which has become quite apparent while I have been home, is how atrocious radio stations in Ireland have become (maybe always were?). Not all of them, all of the time, but the majority of them, the majority of the time. In my opinion at least. Unfortunately I left my iTrip in L.A, so every time I drive here, I make the same mistake. Well, two mistakes. First is forgetting to burn a CD to bring along with me. The main one, however, is that I keep giving the radio one last chance. And time and time again, it makes me want to bite my ears off. It is brutal! Music wise anyways, the chat shows are fine, you know what to expect from them. It is the generic, bland, horrific music that is played 90% of the time which is so annoying to me. Different stations playing the same horrendous songs that in 3 weeks people will not even remember the name of. When did it get so bad?

The worst part is similar to a scene in Family Guy, where they mock a station that plays a jingle for a good few minutes, telling you the name of the station. Then the jingle keeps going for another minute or two. On Saturday, while driving along, I noticed that one station claimed to play a fit of 6 songs in a row, uninterrupted. Probably 6 crap songs, but still, uninterrupted was the big factor. Supposedly. Bar the presenter saying a few sentences between each song. And the few ads scattered here and there. Oh, plus the jingle… “Uninterrupted, UNINTERRUPTED, music without interruptions” and so on, for at least half a minute. Which was highly head wrecking. Especially when the songs that were then played seem to be tailored only for a hen party crowd. Which is fine, I suppose, if you’re on a hen and listening to the radio at the same time. Otherwise, it is torture. 

Night time radio at least has some variety. However, day time radio must be a rising source of road rage in people these days. Or is it just me? Screaming at the radio for just one good song without an annoying ape talking through it. I’ve tried going down the route of turning the radio off fully as well. However, this just leads to an odd silence in the car, a vacuum. Which feels like it should be filled with some sort of noise. Sing a song perhaps. Or else you could just start talking to yourself. Which is odd, when somebody next to you in traffic asks what song you’re singing, and you tell them the truth “No song, just talking to myself about the current plight of the radio.” Kind of weird, when they realize you’re not joking.

Now that I read back over this attempt, it is clear that I might just be using Irish radio to vent out frustrations I have in other areas. At least the first attempt made sense, in a way. As opposed to this puke-like effort. Anyways, like all other frustrations I might be encountering at the moment, it will just have to be dealt with. Suck it up. Stop being a bitch. And bring back the week, more constructive things outside my control can potentially occur.

Best part of the weekend might have been watching Louis Theroux on BBC tonight, about his show on meth addicts in California. Watching that has made me realize that I may have met a few more meth heads myself back in L.A, than I might have initially thought. Which is good to know. Plus, I read yesterday about a serial killer who seems to have resurfaced in L.A, and is on another rampage. The grass is far greener.

A song to wrap this mess up…

Simian Mobile Disco

Cruel Intentions – Simian Mobile Disco (Feat. Beth Ditto)

Slow Down!!!

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Life!!! Slow down! Chill out woman! You are going at too fast a pace for me at the moment. I am neck and neck with the snails. Trundling along at quite a speed. Events, festivities, stories, and dumbness are all happening far too fast for me to write any of it down!!! Seeing as I am using this week to write, I left the stand-up off in Dublin, so sticking around Cork for the second week in a row. Which is fun. And, I got my DJ’ing events mixed up, thanks to a dumb error on my behalf, so I have the weekend off too. Perfect time to write, but not much else seems to be going on.

I mentioned a while back that I was going to try new things while stuck, I mean, back in Cork. Tougher than I thought. The blind date possibility, which I mentioned before, is well and truly done. Never got out of the starting blocks really once I tried to resurrect the situation. It is tough enough at times to transmit wit or sarcasm through a text. When the person getting the text has a limited grasp of English, those tones, plus getting her name wrong constantly on top, do not bode well. Could have made a good blogaruu. Always next time. I suppose could still try the blind date from the classified ads section. Although I can only imagine what standard of fruit would put their name in the hat from those ads. Especially after surveying the situation on nights out recently. Recessionary times seem to keep good looking women locked up at home. Obviously there should be an abundance of sarcasm just bursting out of that sentence. Sure. 

Lets just call today a lull. It is kind of a necessity to be mostly trundling out of Cork, the city of excitement. Seeing as I am saving bobs for heading back to L-Hey, it would be completely stupid to think of moving up to Dublin full on, or trying out London, for a few weeks, while I am waiting on the visa. I admit to maybe at times doing dumb things, but I’m not (that) stupid. Perfect time to write. Is what I keep telling myself. Discipline. Suffer for the art!!!

Being honest, I can deal with the lull at the moment. The lull from the fun, exciting, dumb events which used to land on my lap. When I finished college I was in the same boat. The boat where time/life feels like it is wasting away a bit. Meandering, ox-bow lakes left and right. Life just trundles on, days turn into weeks, weeks are now over a month, and it goes on and on. I can deal with that buzz, and know how to pull out of it. At the moment, it is only a temporary event. It is you, the reader, who I feel a bit bad for. Started off rocking around L.A, bounding and galavanting through many a bizarre maze. Now, I am waddling around the street of Cork, taking in the familiar, yet horrendous, whiff of curry powder. Don’t worry though, the good times will be rolling back soon, I can feel them coming!

Maybe next week when I am in Dublin for my stand-up gig, I’ll kill two birds with the one gig, and bring a classified ad date along. Without telling her that I am actually going to be doing the gig. If my new material starts to bomb, that story alone should pull me through. I would obviously not do that though. Life is not that slow. Yet.

Song of the lull, is a new one with a bit of a kick, thank funk! I used to highly, highly dislike this band, and now, guess what… 

Muse