Category Archives: Random Ramblings

Who Needs Money Anyways? Actually, I Do.

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Slowly, but surely, I can feel the straw breaking. I am kind of getting weary of my stories being funny but ending in a dumb way. There is only so much one can take. How hard is it to do fairly straight forward daily tasks, such as find a job, buy a car, write a sitcom, win an Oscar, OR FIND A FUNKING JOB THAT ACTUALLY PAYS MONEY!!! If you are a chump like me, it seems, fairly funking impossible. 

From now on, I think I shall set up a blog for my roommate and document her daily life instead of my repetitively annoying one. Hers is far better. Today, for example, we kind of had similar days – we chilled, had some lunch, went shopping, and both of us found out we had a job tomorrow. However, there were a few minor differences. Just slightly.

Back to the start. Today I was going up to big gay Jim in the gym to find out if I had the DJ’ing job or not, yes or no, tell me once and for all, at least then the limbo would be over for yet another job. Up to the gym, big gay Jim is on the front desk, shrieks, gasps for air and covers his mouth with his hand when he sees me. “Oh my Gaaawd Omar, I am so, so, sooo sorry, I was meant to call you on Wednesday!” Too right you were, I have been having sleepless nights over the lack of calls, I knew you didn’t use me for that one demo! He was meant to have informed me on Wednesday that the operations manager gave the all clear, I was good to go, play my great music from 12-3 in the afternoons. I actually gave him a wuu huu and high five, go on the big gay Jim, no I don’t want a hug, you’ve gone too far again, era shur, why not, you got me a job, lets hug this b**ch out Jim!!!

Walking on air (not only did I become a struggling paid writer this week, I was now a struggling DJ!), Jim takes me to meet the staff, how’s it going lads, top of the morning girls, blah diddy blah. I am then shown the equipment and their set-up, spoof on, you can plug your mixer in here, your sound card goes there, your bits go here, and your things slots in here. Too far Jim, too far. Eh, do you have a cable that will connect my laptop to your big load of gadgets? No. Ok, I’ll go buy that now so.

Just before I leave, I ask Jim the schedule. Well, 12-3, how many days a week do you want to come in? How many??!!! I’ll do every day this week, I have a free schedule I told you. “Oh great Merrick, everyday would be wonderful, when do you want to start?” When? Tomorrow!! This is brilliant, I can pick and choose my days, I will see you then. Oh yeah, ha, almost forgot, what is the story with getting paid? “Paid? As in money? Oh we don’t pay our DJs, its good publicity for you, and free membership.” What. The. Funk. Are you joking me? Are you actually being serious with me? Publicity for what? Have you ever heard of subsistent living Jim? Do you know what the bread line is all about??!!! I don’t think I am getting you right here, no pay?? I started to get a bit dizzy and light headed at this stage when my brain can’t process this happening once again. “So, Eric, tomorrow at 12?” Ugghhh, pardon, where am I, what’s going on? Tomorrow at 12? Ehh, yup, I will see you then.

I walk out of the gym dazed and confused. What is going on, have I got the whole concept of working wrong in L.A? Does society have different rules here where only the rich get paid for very little work and those struggling to make ends meet are expected to work for free? I stumble into Starbucks across the way, needing a coffee to gilt me out of this bizarre mind boggling state. As I am ripping opening Splendas (ha) and pouring them into my coffee, then dumping the empty packs in the bin, I notice a girl laughing next to me. Obviously, at me. I had just ripped open a Splenda, poured it into the bin part, and put the empty pack in my coffee. 3 times. Funking ape. At least I got a new coffee. And the girl joined me while I was having my coffee. And she was impressed that I was a DJ who weirdly played in a gym (I left out the doing it for free part). And I got her number. At least I can do that right. Or so I thought.

My roommate picked me up from Starbucks so we could go shopping. She had to buy a pair of boots, I had to buy that lead I needed to hook my laptop up to their sound system (Not only was I not getting paid money to play, seeing as I needed a lead, it would cost me money to work there, chumpy mac). So I get into my roommate’s tank of a car, and she asks if I got the job. I did, but… she gives me a wuu huu, and tells me “I got a job too”. Wuu huu for you so as well, I actually start mine tomorrow, but the thing about the job I got is that I won’t… “No way, my job is tomorrow too, only a one day shoot, but still, we are both working tomorrow, thats great!” Yeah, but, the thing with my job is, eh, what’s your job first actually “I have a photo shoot for a magazine with Ryan Gosling, it should be fun!” That should be fun, almost as much fun as my job. Are you getting paid for yours? “Yeah, of course, so what were you saying about your job, the only thing was…?” The only thing was… the only thing was… what was I saying again, oh yeah, only thing was that I don’t get paid for my job. “What? Really? Another non-paying job? Why?” Not sure really, I actually have no idea what’s wrong with me. “Oh, eh, still though, at least it’s a job” Yeah, its the job being a chumpy mac.

Back to me thinking I could at least get a girl’s number, I hadn’t turned into a complete dumb ape yet. Oh, how I was wrong. Sent the girl a text, you should come by the gym tomorrow, check out the great European music I’ll be playing. Bring your dancing shoes, I’ll teach you an Irish jig, giddy up them steps. That kind of smooth crap. Just got a reply saying she would love to, what time. Not too bad, until I read past the first line… My boyfriend is from Europe too, he has been dying to hear some good music since he’s been here, he wants to come along with his friends, if thats cool?!!! Ahhh, of course it is, of course you have a boyfriend, of course, tell him bring all his friends. What time did you say? I am on the decks from 5 onwards, I got it wrong earlier, it’s not 12 to 3 like I said, actually on at 5, see you then!

I had better get some sleep. Must get up early, seeing as I’m on at 12 and all, ha. Here’s the song I shall be playing to myself all night to get me in the right frame of mood for tomorrow… Great DJ by The Tings Tings

If You Had To Do One, Eiffel Tower or Berlin Wall?

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Now that I had my first article published, it was time for me to retire. All the hard work had paid off, the graft and effort was worth it all, time now to reap the rewards. Which, I presume would just snowball in all day long. At least these were the reasons I am giving for doing bob all, all day. That, plus being tired and emotionally dejected after Tom Green side swiped me last night. I needed a day off from, eh, the hard work.

Yesterday I had made up a few demos and dropped them into all the other gyms I have been to while here, hoping that one might bite the bait and give me a job. Unfortunately I still had no call from big gay Jim so I shall have to go up tomorrow and find out for definite either way. Anyways, if you might remember, I had all the numbers of the gyms saved, so I could dodge them when they rang about trying to get me to sign up after the free week pass ran out. Earlier today I see get a call, one of the gym’s numbers pops up, I am in like flynn, I knew they’d love the demo (it is actually too good, if anyone wants it for the gym let me know).

“Hey Merrick, Chad here from Equinox, you called into us yesterday…” How’s it going Brad, I did indeed, did you like the demo? “I loved it, listened to it on the way home in my car, I was wondering if you might be interested in DJ’ing over the weekend?” Let me check my schedule, lucky you, seems I am free 24/7, count me in, what days/nights? “Well, its not for the gym, we actually don’t do that as our policy states, but DJ for a party in my friend’s house.” Ooook, how much will I be getting paid? (All he needs to offer is $50 or over and Ill do it for the 2 hours, ha, I am a cheap date) “Well, we would give you a couple of beers, I was hoping you’d do it for free?” For funk’s sake, for free? Another pro funking bono offer? Do I look charitable?! I am the one in need!!! “Yeah, we’d love your music at it, me and the guys would love a night of European dance music!” You and the guys? Once again, no girls? How surprising! Good duck to you Tad, anti bono and all, thanks anyways though.

Moving on, I have lined up some more acting classes to audit for free, but they aren’t until next week. I prefer to write at night, so I had the day to kill. I am going to veer slightly off the usual path of rambling and tell you about some of the stuff they are showing on t.v here! With my roommates in tow, the day was utilized to the full, watching the weirdest documentary you will ever see. It was funking nuts, seriously, highly interesting too, you have to watch it, “Married to the Eiffel Tower”. Its about women who are in love, and make love, to objects, such as crossbows, roller-coasters, church pews, the Eiffel Tower, and the Berlin Wall, amongst others. Don’t think its porn or anything, it is just strange and will blow your head when you watch it. Here’s a clip, one of the funniest parts is at 3.48 when one of the girls lets go while watching “porn”, it is mental! At least they seem happy. Almost.

If you can, try to watch all of it, I’m sure you can hunt it down on Youtube. On a funnier note, here is an ad for Hulu that is on t.v in Emerica, with Seth MacFarlane. If you want to see him do the different Family Guy voices, watch on!

This post has been a bit scattered and all over the place, tiredness is kicking in. I could tell you about the guy in the gym who has outdone me with the bicycle shorts, taken it up a notch, why bother with shorts at all, and just seems to wear a t shirt in there, but I wont, not now at least. As you can see, this day has been utilized well. After such a tough and exciting day, a great song to cap it all off… All My Friends by LCD Soundsystem

I’ll Have A Diet Coke, A Muppet And… An Orgy?

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Friday and Saturday night were full of hits and misses. Friday started off with me being in a “funk the recession, I’m on a session” mood. I had devised a plan for myself… blog -> book -> sitcom -> movie, ha, every man needs a plan! Plus, I was back in my embracing L.A, going with the flow, don’t turn down random invites anymore, frame of mind. Not as clever as I thought it might be.

First club I went to, once again, was full of girls with a thirst for Coca-Cola, Pepsi must be freaked. My new response is to tell them no, but I have some Diet if they want it? This is met by puzzlement and being asked if it is good? Yes, you ape, its lovely. It’s funny as well to watch girls flock over to your table if there are bottles of vodka or the likes on it, not that that they were mine or anything, obviously. The minute the last drop of the last bottle is finished, the girls disperse like gay magicians, poof, disappear. I waited for the girl I was talking to to come back, to give me her number, but she obviously got lost, or found a can of Coke in the toilet to keep her occupied. 

The next bar on the list was the first bar in Hollywood I have seen hit by the recession, it was not on a session, it was funking dead. Cool bar too, but just dead. And there was an absolute ape on the door, an Irish ape as it happens. As I’m stopped at the door, I notice the bouncer, about my age, has a hybrid American/Irish accent, like the gimp I met on the plane. I don’t mean either that he was American with Irish parents. He was fully Irish, putting on an American accent. When he hears my accent, for some reason, he thinks I’m taking the p**s out of him. “Where are you from?” Ireland, you? “Who sent you up to me? You’re not Irish, where are you from?” Cork, you? “Belfast, but you’re not Irish, who sent you up to me to talk like that?” I am Irish, what are you on about? “Say something Irish so…” You’re a muppet, can I go in now? This actually gets me in, but not before he has given me a high five, and told the other bouncers of how we belong to the same clan, he’s Gaelic too, and out comes the Belfast accent. Sure we are, because Irish people often call each other Gaelic, you muppet.

The next day, I decided to give up booze. At least until I start to be productive. So, until I got a definite yes for a job, no more boozing, these are recession times we live in after all. At least when people in L.A hear you’re off the booze, they do not look at you like a freak they don’t want to get stuck talking to for the night, as they might, say, in Ireland on a night out. In L.A, they save those looks for when you tell them you actually don’t drink Coke, so to speak.

So, anyways, I decide to head out on Saturday for a while sober Joe, to a going away party in a bar close to my house. About half one, I get a text asking if I want to go to a house party, which is on in an apartment close by. The text is from a random girl I met before, a European like myself. She lures me to the party by telling me there are lots of “hot European girls here who would love to say hi” How could I resist?!

I get to the apartment, she opens the door looking all bohemian like, tells me to come in, have a seat. The minute I cross the threshold, I get a weird vibe. No music at the party, but that is the least of my worries. There is also a fire on, for some odd reason, so the place was roasting. Again, not a major worry I would find out. The apartment is a sitting room and kitchen in one, plus bathroom and bedroom. I have been fooled with false promises. There is only one other girl here, and four guys. The guys are sitting on the L-shaped couch, the girl is sitting on the floor. The hostess tells me take a seat, there is only room on the floor, so I sit next to the girl, who is French it seems, and quite hot. Just as I sit down, on the floor, and notice I am sitting right with my back to the fire, the job, a guy comes out of the bathroom, the girl next to me stands up, goes over to the guy, they hold hands, and both leave, all in one foul swoop. Ciao, ciao, nice to meet you, eh, where are the other hot European girls?

The hostess comes in, sits between the guys on the couch, and starts smiling at me. I notice the dudes are kind of doing the same. I am on the ground, giving them all a dopey, uncomfortable, what-the-funk-is-this, smile back, feeling like I am being interviewed with the set-up going on, and feeling the heat rip into me from the fire. Then the random questions are thrown at me by the dudes, who I now see are probably, max, bicentennial, max. “Want a beer?” No, thanks. “Are you on anything?” No. “Want to be on something?” No. “Are you single?” No, I’m married to God. “You’re funny. You should relax, this is a good place to be, we’re going to have fun”. Oook, this is not the party I was promised, where are those hot European girls again?

Trying to change the subject, and getting sick of the stares from some German dude, Klaus, I ask the girl where the funk are all the hot European girls she was on about to me. “Hey, chill out Mark, you need to relax on that, it’s not always all about the women you know” What the funk are you on about. What the funk is this. “Yeah, you need to relax, want to be on something?” Klaus, funk off. It is now when I realize I am no longer sweating because of the fire. I think this is lined up to be an orgy. With one girl, four dudes, and, if their plan goes well, me. 

This is the first time I have been in this situation, so I did not really register what exactly was going on at first, it was not something I expected, as a normal person wouldn’t I presume. So, I asked again, are there any women coming, and got the same reply. Why is there no music either? Oh, there’s music in the bedroom, want to come in and help me pick a song? I wasn’t asking you, Klaus, funk off. In reality, I didn’t tell him to funk off at all, I was planning my escape route and trying to play it cool. So, after having sat down only a few long, long minutes earlier, I jumped back up, time for me to leave. “Oh you can’t leave, you just got here, we’re going to have a fun night, you’re not leaving” Of course I’m not, I’m just going outside to make a quick call, I’ll be right back, chill out Klaus. 

For some reason I didn’t want to risk the elevator, so I hurtled down the three flights of stairs and briskly walked (half ran) home. To top it all off, I actually got a text on the way home from the girl asking why I just disappeared like that, some of the guys thought it was very rude, I should be more open, maybe next time? Hopefully, hopefully, she understood my text calling her a muppet. I’ll have to start screening the random invites from now on!

Song of the weekend is Gifted (featuring Kanye West, Santogold and Lykke Li) by N.A.S.A

Who Does A Fool, Fool? Himself, Obviously

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I have come a long way my friends, a long, long way. First time I ever flew into LAX, I got a dodgy bus to my destination. Second time, I got taken on a tour of the city in a taxi. The last time I flew in, I rented a car and got nicely lost. However, this time around, I had a buddy pick me up. Yes, you read that correctly, a buddy. I have friends this time around in L.A. And not the kind of friends here that I’ve met once ever in my life (if at all!) and then tell me – Don’t leave L.A! I’ll miss you too much!!! We must hang out when you’re back!!! Sure we will, sure.

On the way back to my house with my buddy, also now my roommate, but who’s splitting hairs, we decide to come up with ways of getting our roommates for April Fools’. Stuck in traffic, surprising for L.A, we have plenty of time. However, I do not have plenty of ideas. No good ones really. And all of mine seem to revolve around me, I am that involved with myself. How about we pretend I got deported? How about we pretend I was mugged? How about, after living in West Hollywood for so long, I’ll tell them I am actually thinking of going gay? I get the same response over and over… “Eh, no, they’ll just say oh right, and not care too much.” Oh right, I tell him, keep thinking.

In the end we decide he will take the keys of our roommate’s car, move her car, pretend like we know nothing, it must be stolen or towed. What a great, original, inspiring idea! We had nothing else. However, when we get home, there is no sign of her or her car. We sit and wait, still nothing. My other roommate has to go to an appointment, can’t wait around much longer. In the end, he gets an elastic band, ties it around the hose part they have in sinks here, plan J is in motion. Basically, whenever you turn on the tap like normal, the hose part was set to spray you all over, and you would be fooled, a great plan!!! I watched him do all of this, this should be noted.

My roommate has to leave, I’m at home on my own, decide to chill and watch t.v for a while, I’ll make a cup of tea first. So, I go back into the kitchen, look for a cup, find the tea bags, fill up the kettle, and soak myself. Ha ha, I thought to myself, I’m quite the ape for forgetting, lucky no one was here, I’ll say nothing, I’m no fool. Strike one.

After chilling for a while, I decide to clean up the house a bit. I dump the rubbish, clean the tables, round up dirty plates, cups, cutlery and all that. I carefully let enough water out of the tap so the spray doesn’t reach me, and do the washing up. When I finish, I notice I forgot to rinse one plate off. I’ll give it a quick, short rinse and I’ll be done. One quick burst of water later, and I am soaked again. Once again, thankfully, no one was there to witness my stupidity. I tell myself, thats it, I won’t be caught again. Surely.

Three soaks and two changes of clothes later, and I feel like a complete and utter fool. I have to mop the floor after the fifth time, the 5th time, of soaking myself. Once while washing a potato, once while cleaning my hands before cutting chicken, and the final time refilling the kettle to make a coffee, ha. I don’t really count the little squirts I got while filling up a bottle of water, twice, they only got me a bit wet so they don’t count. At this stage, I was determined to stay away from the sink, leave the elastic band on, and catch one of my roommates, any of my roommates, anyone, it had to be done.

Eventually a roommate comes home, and she heads into the kitchen with food. I shout in, asking her to get me a glass of water please, make sure its really cold, run the tap, I was so clever, the set-up was in place. She shouts back straight away “Why is there an elastic band around the spray part?” Balls. Around this time my other roommate comes in, gives me a hug to welcome me back, and asks why my t-shirt and jeans are so wet. Balls. I spill the beans, except in my version I pretend that I didn’t know about the elastic band all along. They give me a knowing nod, sure you didn’t, you idiot, and ruffle my hair. I fooled them well!!!

Later that night, my third roommate, my partner in crime earlier in the day, rings asking where his car is, where was it moved to, ha ha, very funny, good April Fools. I got a text actually saying “Dude, where’s my car?”. The girls straight away think its a wind-up, and ignore the cries of wolf, he just wants us to drive out to him for no reason. I have my doubts, but the manner of the text makes me think perhaps they are right. He is told by one the girls, we’re on the way, sit tight, we’ll be straight there, and we all go back to watching American Idol. About an hour later, and many ignored calls and texts, I call him back. Apparently he was not lying, the car is gone. The girl, whose car he was going to move earlier that day, collects him and brings him home. His car was parked in an unused driveway but still got towed. Ha, April Fools!!!

I hope this will teach fellow fools out there, do not leave your room next April Fools’ day, it’s just too dangerous out there for us!

Song of the day is this little mash-up, first person to name all the songs used gets one shiny gold Mexican dollar coin I have left from my trip… In Step by Girl Talk.

And here’s another one I stumbled upon earlier, bohemian on!!! Dance, Dance, Dance  by Lykke Li and Bon Iver.

A Fool On Land, In The Air, Anytime, Anywhere.

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Not much really happened today. Well as in there were no movie offers put in front of me, no celebrities hounding me, no producer offering me to make my sitcom, none of that usual stuff. I flew back to L.A, went food shopping, unpacked my bags, had a shower and that was about it. However, in between all that daily stuff, a good few funny incidents occurred. Most of the incidents were down to me being a fool, although I obviously did that on purpose, the day that was in it and all. As I’ve claimed many times before, I’m usually far smarter than it would appear, I swear.

I must say I was sad to leave San Fran in the end. Like any good ex who wanted you back would do, she slowly reminded me of the good times, wore me down and I ended up liking her a bit again in the end. I must thank my cousin and soon to be cousin-in-law for being immense hosts. However, seeing as I was going back to the passionate lover which is L.A, my sadness soon left once I was up in the air and on my way. If only I had fallen asleep for the flight. If only.

For some reason, I was fairly restless on this flight. I was very bored, in fact, and was looking for a distraction. My iPod wasn’t doing it for me, neither was my book. However, the lady in the seat one up and one across from me was, ha, so to speak. From the acute angle I had – mostly back of her head and slightly the side of her face, and body – she looked quite hot, even wearing a dodgy baseball hat. It was then when I noticed something which would annoy me enough to start the ball rolling. The tag of her hat was hanging down out of the hat, by mistake I presume. Not only this, but the tag in her t-shirt was sticking up, poking out of the top and almost touching the tag from the hat. Her hair was parted to each side as well, so it all looked a bit odd and stupid, to me at least. I had too much time and was too restless to bother to think all of this. 

So, I let it go a few minutes. It soon got to me though, it was annoying me too much for some stupid, bizarre reason. Plus it would be a good ice-breaker to kill my boredom, me being so nice and all to tell her. I tap her on the shoulder, she pulls her earphones out of her ears, turns around with a ‘what does this idiot want’ look on her face, and I inform her “Sorry, your tags are out, they’re dangling out, ha, just thought I’d tell you.” I lean back into my chair, wait for her to check the tags, fix them, thank me ever so much, and the conversation was flowing. Instead, I get a look of excuse me?! and her asking me “Excuse me?!” She must not have heard me, or understood my accent, so I just say it louder, not clearer, just louder “Your tags…” pointing to my neck in the front first for some reason, then pointing to the back of my neck, then just pointing at her “… they’re out, looks funny enough, I thought you might want to fix them”. Again, no gratitude, but more dirty looks and questioning comments. I decide to let that horrendous attempt at starting conversation go, her loss and all that, she must be one of those who think I speak Russia when I speak normally.

I throw back on my iPod, put on my sunglasses and try to fall asleep. Half a song in, I get poked in the shoulder. Thinking someone has brushed off me down the aisle, I take no notice. When I get kind of pushed in the shoulder, it dawns someone wants my attention. I take off my sunglasses, and see a guy who looks like a lumber jack standing over me. “What the f**k did you say to my wife a minute ago? What the f**k are you talking to her about her body for? Stand up. Why are you looking at her tattoo?” Oh Jesus. Wife? Is this the husband from Mexico?!!! Oh Jesus.

It’s not, instead he seems to be the husband of the women with the tags dangling out, up and down. I never saw him a minute ago. “Stand up, answer me”. Oh Jesus. Do I stand up so he can knock me back down or what is the protocol here? I splutter out a “Eh, ah, ehhh, ahhh, what, what, what are you on about?” He points to his wife, restates his case, asks me stand up again. I start to stand up, he steps back to give me room, he is slightly smaller than me but he is built like a block of granite. A big block that is. I am trying to tell him “Tags, tags, TAGS!!!” as I stand, pointing to her neck, my neck, his elephant neck “TAAAAGSSS”, not tassive mits, tattoos or whatever else I’m trying to think he might have thought I said.

My final “tag” effort was unknowingly said in my best American accent, and it seems to sink in with him that, yes indeed, I have been speaking English all this time. His anger dies down a little as he recognizes an accent. “Where are you from?” Ireland. “Really, what part?” Cork. “Do you know Tipperary?” I do, Cork is near there (I don’t bother telling him one side of my family being from Tipperary, might you know them sort of thing, it didn’t seem to be the best time really). “My ex wife is from Tipperary, I couldn’t understand her either”. 

Thank funk for that, this little nugget of unexpected information has cleared the air. I re-tell him about the tags, big misunderstanding, apologies, I’ll leave them dangling next time, oh I see your wife actually has a tattoo on her… that’s a lovely dolphin she has swimming through the two mountains, I couldn’t see that from my angle. Apologies, sorry, apologies, did you see Ireland got a draw against the Italians? No? Soccer? No? Doesn’t matter, up Tipp!!! He sees the funny side of it in the end, she still doesn’t but I was only trying to be nice all along. Nothing to do with her looking hot from the side, obviously.

I’ll have to finish off this post in the morning. I’m too wrecked now and half falling asleep. I’m not used to the early 10 o’clock starts. Song of the day is a song for what almost happened… Lights Out by Santigold.

Procrasta Nation

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This morning I was woken up thinking the earthquake had come back for seconds. However, only one wall was shaking this time, and it didn’t last quite as long. It must have only been just a tremor, ha, go on the rabbits in the apartment below! Anyways, today was a big, big, big day. After my brief, yet exhilarating, fling with the earthquake yesterday, I was nay so productive. How could I concentrate or focus after the earthquake swept me off my feet like that, it was like something out of a movie! I had planned that today would be my mighty day of work. Included in my plan was to first watch the Ireland – Italy soccer match. This was before I was reminded today that the match was, in fact, on tomorrow, and not today.

After finding out I now had a two hour gap in my meticulously planned out day, I was left with a conundrum – finish (ahem, start) the writing assignments off two hours earlier than planned, or, get a few small things on my to-do list out of the way. To-do on!!!

While having breakfast, I couldn’t find the remote, so sat through an episode of General Hospital. It was pretty horrendous, who was I to judge though, it was only my first episode. So, I watched another 2 episodes to make sure. Still pretty horrendous but at least Chad got out of the coma in the end, wuu huu! After that, I moved on to my laundry. I washed dirty clothes, clean clothes, other peoples clothes, everything and anything. I ironed clothes, folded the washed clothes, refolded t-shirts that were already folded, got some stubborn stains out, I was highly productive! This was going swimmingly well so far.

Next, I decided to head down to the Polish shop and check out the sale they were having on fish today. I bought myself a nice bit of swordfish, first time really trying it I think, thought it was odd that it tasted a bit like licorice and mustard but maybe thats what all swordfish taste like? It was after lunch when I remembered I had forgot to clean my runners, I had better wash the laces by hand, to-do on!!! 

Obviously I then moved on to doing some good writing research online, on Spacebook, checking Craigslist for any spoof jobs or new Buckets, downloading music, doing jigs to a few songs, all that productive stuff. I exhausted every possible avenue that I could to avoid doing my homework. For some reason, I felt like I was being punished. For God’s sake, do I have to do the writing? What will happen if I don’t? I’ll be grounded? Fine, ground me. I killed off some more time by thinking of an episode for the Office, and an episode for my new sitcom. I have the outline of them good to go, wuu huu, so at least that was semi-productive. Plus I half thought of a name for my sitcom. If you have any suggestions feel free to horse them on!! All I need to do now for them is type them out, along with the easy task of doing the witty and funny dialogue, era shur isn’t that the easy part! Ha.

Eventually, after kicking my bedroom door a few times and stomping up the stairs, I sat down and started the writing assignments (spoof). Once I started (spoof), obviously, they were grand. I got them done fairly quickly (spoof), covered all I needed to as well, happy enough with them. All of that avoidance for that? I am an ape. At least I got to see Chad wake up. 

My next post will be when I am back in L to the Heeeeeeeey. I just got off the phone with her actually. She told me how the Bucket had called around a few times, drunk, with her new man, made a big scene, thank God I wasn’t there for that. It was very emotional. Here’s a song I played to cheer her up… Dance Tonight by Paul McCartney