I wonder. And I ponder. A lot. And a fair bit. This. That. Gibber. Even more wondering and pondering shall be going on now that I have decided to cut all kinds of worry. Pointless. Not just mine. Others. Udders. Everyone’s. Too much worry floating aboot. No need for mine to clog up the system even more. Dumb enough. Especially when it’s about stuff that has not and might not even happen. Like the end of the world. Which is not for another two years. Pointless worry like that. Two years!?! A fair chunk away. Plenty to do until then. From now on, I shall only worry about other people. Concern for other people. Worry is a word which shall be banished. Which is why I ponder. And I wonder. About myself. And if perhaps I am out to sabotage myself. Self saboteur. On a constant basis. Continue Reading »
Finishing the book is the goal at the momento. The only goal. Revising, chopping, writing, editing, cluelessness… a mighty hoot! Although, I’ve realised I’m not really a fan of reading back over all my mistakes to be true, ha. Onwards and upwards. And at various points I’ve at least recognised a need to focus. Recognition. Now would be as good as any time to recognise that once more! However, New Year’s resolutions, not really a fan. Lucky if they make it out of January alive. Quickly dismissed. Fully disappear as the year goes on. Should’ve done that. Next year. Continued on for years and years. Learn Spanish? Learn a few songs on the old gee-tar? Still going strong since 1999! Wuu. Another way to fool myself. Perhaps it’s because I keep them to myself. And, as a result, less accountable for them. However, this time last year I had no blogaruu. Re de de, no little pink diary for myself. And now, I do. Duu! Continue Reading »
Excluding a bit of gardening yesterday (well, pruning to be exact) the rest of my weekend has been worked around a couple of gigs. One stand-up in Dubla, then back down to Cork to DJ. Stand-up is the definitely the area where I tend to get a bit of nerves before going on. And the area that I do the most amount of work for, beforehand. Or so I let myself believe anyways. I slowly figured out, that it is actually the area I do the least amount of preparation for, even though it is the one I should be doing the most for. I think the fact that it is only a 15 minute time slot is my downfall. Subconsciously I must just let myself think then, that less amount of time should be used to prepare for a gig, as opposed to writing, or DJ’ing, as they take longer to do. If that makes sense. As a result, when it is gig time, the pressure starts to creep out of the cupboard. Like an exam I have not fully studied for, trying and hoping to wing parts of it.
Spoon
The main reason for the gig was the fact that a producer I have been meeting recently was coming along, to check it out as part of a proposal. On top of that, Continue Reading »
If you ever want to feel like a true winner, wake up on a Monday morning with a hangover. What a winning feeling that is, too much fun. A great way to start the week. Only way is up, I do suppose. The blogaruu has been silent for the past few days, so time to catch up in one swift, foul swoop. Back on the road to productivity. I’ll start with my stand-up gig on Thursday.
I must admit, the gig was special. Really special. Not sure what it was exactly. But it was special. Do you know when everything just works out to a tee? You couldn’t plan it better if you tried. It was as if the earth aligned with the comedy moon, and everything just fell into place. New material and jokes were told with aplomb. Punch lines were delivered with panache. People clapping, standing ovations, crying out for more. Jokes that you think might be a bit dodge or 50-50, turn out to be unbelievably well received. Unfortunately, it was not one of those nights. Nowhere near. By special I mean horrendous. It was bad. Technically, it was actually funny. Just not the kind of funny I was aiming for. One those nights, where nothing goes to plan. Probably because I never had a plan to begin with.
It was probably the busiest night in there so far, maybe 100 people. I know, huge, stadium gigs might have to be the next port of call. It seemed to me as if the crowd were mostly new faces I had not seen before, so I decided I would open with a few of my new “jokes”, then fall back on my old reliables of life in L.A to finish on a high note. Whenever I watch the acts on before me, I’ve realized that all I am doing is hoping they wont tell jokes or stories similar in any way to mine. Thats it. Couldn’t really care if they’re funny or not. Just as long as they steer clear of what I have lined up, they’ve done well in my eyes. Seeing as I have practiced a bit of material based on life in L.A, I decided I would try out some new stuff about what it is like being home in Ireland. Along the lines of how much fun it is back here, comparing here and there, and how big a winner in life I am just waiting in limbo land for my visa. Those kinds of hilarious angles.
The acts on before me got a few laughs, nothing major. However, there was a girl whose act was a bit to similar to mine for my liking. As in she mentioned a few incidents in L.A, saying L.A a lot, as if to rub it in that she was marking her territory before I went up. Not that she had a clue of my act or anything, but it seemed like that to me when that was my selling point. A few of her jokes ran a bit too parallel to mine, confusion and dumbness, so I had to go with my new material now no matter what. The material that was still in the idea stage, yet to have been developed as far as punch lines. That top dollar material I had up my sleeve. Dumbly, I convinced myself I would think of the big bang punch lines when I was up on stage. As you do.
Straight off, messed up the first joke, mocked myself, without giving a back story as to why I was mocking myself, and messed up joke number one. Good start. Moved on to saying how delightful Irish girls and their love of fake tan are, went down like a lead brick. Oh Jesus. Dirty looks from girls in the crowd. Tried to compare them to an orange version of the Blue Man Group. No one seemed to have a clue who they were, must be an American thing only, cue more silence. (Here they are to give you a reminder. I think I might start to use a projector in future to explain my jokes. Which is a great sign.)
Thought I might move on to relationships and couples in Ireland, asking one couple in the crowd about a certain topic. Bad idea. If the guy answered truthfully, and laughed, he would be in the bad books with his girlfriend. So, instead he shrugged his shoulders, didn’t commit either way, and ruined my point. Cue more silence. Thankfully, at this stage, a guy in the crowd started shouting something up to me. Heckling I think its called. The thankful part was that he was foxy, and a gimp, so at least I got a few laughs mocking him and his big red target on his head. Seeing as I was getting a few chuckles now, I decided it was time for the old reliable sure fire stories. Unfortunately, it was not happening for me. Gay horse and accompanying story was not well received. Which is my jolly banker!
At this stage, I made the executive decision, that there was only one thing to do. Made the right call, enough was enough, lets end this now. Well, after I tried to have some banter with two drunk Dutch guys in the crowd first. In German. In German? Obviously enough, that went down well. A quick Auf Wiedersehen, and that was that. Overall, a special performance. My HBO Special should be in the pipeline soon. Although, on an ironic note, it was the most I have been paid for a stand-up gig. And, the guy in charge loved it, and booked me again for next week straight away. He must like seeing me bomb. Bomb on!
Blogaruu is long enough, so I won’t start on my bit about the Hungarian stalker I think I have, or the mix tape scenario that is developing, I’ll keep it for tomorrow. You must be so funking excited!!!
Seeing as the video is pretty cool, Strawberry Swing by Coldplay.
It has been a week of numbers. Hit and miss. A fruitless week might be another good way to describe it. Well, maybe a few nuggets of productivity, scattered amongst a field of frustration and stop-starts. However, it was Tuesday that started my decline, from which I never fully recovered. Literally I had a fairly bad hair day, succumbing to getting not one, but two dodgy haircuts. Oddly enough, since then, the amount of people to mention to me that I should really go get a haircut for myself, has risen. Unfortunately for them, number 3 is not on the cards anytime soon.
This week I had 4 gigs lined up, 3 DJ and 1 stand-up. Yes I know, I(think)’m brilliant. Oddly, the stand-up one was probably the best of the lot. If I never have a stranger gig than that one though, I will be disappointed. It was bizarre. To start, lets just say it was intimate. As in not the usual amount of people were there, the numbers were down from the hundreds that regularly pack into the venue. For some reason, the atmosphere was ridiculously tense. I suppose the fact a couple were breaking up at it, a family with jet lag didn’t really respond to an orgy joke, and a couple of comedians not having the greatest of banter with the crowd, did not make for a happy buzz floating about the place. It was intense, like sticking a load of people into an elevator and doing a gig there. And if everyone in the elevator also wanted to fight each other for some reason.
There was the comedian as well who pushes his own boundaries to the max while being on stage. As in he is close to snapping, or a melt-down, each time he goes on stage. I think he’s half good though, he commits to full on nut-job at least, plugging away at a joke until the uncomfortable silence from the crowd eventually turns into genuine laughter. I suppose its a cheaper option than paying for therapy. Another comedian did not have any rapport with the crowd. At all. Half the crowd ended up starting a coalition against him, not taking to his banter in the slightest. On the other hand, he did not take well to their criticism either, and was close to getting off the stage and fighting certain members of the audience a few times. All in all, a great atmosphere for a comedy gig.
Thankfully, I was up next. My nonsensical ramblings put the crowd at ease, and managed to appease some of the tension. Almost hit the 15 minute mark, which would’ve have been achieved if I didn’t see the MC flashing his phone at me to wrap it up. Like the blog, quantity, if not always quality, is being reached in the stand-up routine. Also managed to get in a brief Q&A session with the audience before I finished up. Which was nice. My buddy gave me a good roundabout compliment afterwards. Roughly, he reckoned only 5% of the laughs I got were fake ones. A step in the right direction I suppose. All in all though, those 15 minutes were definitely worth a trip up to Dublin. Still not sure if that definitely is a sincere or a sarcastic one. Have to wait and see. I did record it though, so I’ll stick it up here for anyone that might be interested. Something to laugh, or wince at, at least.
The 3 DJ gigs were just superb. Really great. Mainly as I got paid. Wuu, superb. The first on Friday was a bit different than I expected. In fact, if I never have gigs better than Friday, I will be disappointed. I kind of have gotten used to the fact that I can’t play just what I like. Play to the crowd and all that. So, after being briefed on the crowd for gig one, I thought I had a good set of songs lined up. Em, not necessarily. In fact, I had to revert to 80’s all the way (not really the good kind of 80’s either). Singalong and controlled chaos seemed to be the order of the day. Part of my soul was left behind at the venue, but had to be done, I’ll build it back up.
The second gig was in a cool place, Everyman Theatre, I would recommend heading along to it sometime. However, it was a few gems in the crowd here who threw me off. Particularly the girl who insisted on telling me that she split her drink on the dance-floor. I couldn’t figure out if she expected me to clean it up, or buy her a new one. It was odd. Likewise, the girl who told me, numerous times, that she didn’t like the bouncer, was a bit strange as well. Not sure how that was relevant to me. Not that I am calling her dumb, but seeing as she requested a Michael Jackson song, while the actual song she wanted was playing, made me think something was up. Maybe I was just too sober to see her drunken logic. Still though, the more gigs the merrier.
And my final gig, last night, was the best of the lot. Showed up, prepared to the brim after being taken aback the night before, pumped to go! I had even ironed my shirt for the occasion! And, obviously, there ended up being no gig. A mix-up with equipment being delivered, or not, as it turned out, ended up with a lack of necessary tools for me to be able to play. Which was only figured out by myself and the owner when we showed up at the same time, but was by then too late to sort anything else out. Anyways, being paid some money to show up for 10 minutes and then go home, is better than nothing I suppose. All counts towards the L.A fund!
My biggest achievement of the week, might have been finishing the book Zen & The Art of Motor Cycle Maintenance. It only took me 203 days to complete. I know this, as I started it on Christmas Day. An embarrassingly long time to finish a book, but it was worth it in the end. Read on, if you haven’t already, even if it does get bogged down in certain places. Speaking of books, I would recommend The Road Less Traveled. I am having to draw on lessons I learnt from that a lot this week. That is, you have to struggle and persevere through the bleaker times, in order to appreciate the good times more. All part of the cycle! I am in the Dark Ages. Struggle on, the only way is up!
Song of the weekend… I think this video is ridiculously good, similar to my dancing style really!
On paper, these 3 things sound good. It was hot today. Good laugh out in Dubla last night. The train back to Cork was full of women. 3 positives. You would think. However, combine a factor from each, and it actually turns fairly sour. 3 hours stewing in the potent, combined smell of sweat and fake tan, on a train, while hungover to the gills, is not the greatest way to spend a Saturday afternoon. But, can’t complain. I got an opening paragraph out of it at least.
Unfortunately, like a text I tried to send earlier, that paragraph took me at least 20 minutes to write. It has been a slow, dumb day. The text was at least 4 times the length of that paragraph as well, one of those horrendously rambling texts I enjoy sending, every now and again. Every 5 minutes or so. In the end, I had to delete it all, due to the complete lack of sense it even came close to making, and just sent “Yes”. Which I have yet to receive a reply back from. No wonder my Dublin jinx, in a certain area, powers on.
Thursday night was looking so promising as well. Well, in the sense that a quite tasty lady, for whatever reason (drink?), was laughing at all my joke. Make that plural actually, if you count the fact I now tell the same one in Arabic. Until, that is, she broke into tears. Sad tears too. Not really the kind of reaction one hopes for. I suppose its a reaction at least. In an effort to make her feel better, and so she would stop thinking it was weird that she started crying in a crowded bar, I started to join in with her. I can now spring tears it appears. At least the acting classes in L.A have paid off in one way, well worth the money I didn’t have to pay. She appreciated the gesture, then probably found it weird. And then went to the bathroom. I didn’t wait around that long for her to come back. 17 minutes flies by on your own. (Tears? Seriously? How did I actually think that might’ve went well?)
Last night was completely different, you’ll be glad to hear. The interesting offers were flying in. Two tempting 3-some offers. Very tempting. Except the fact that neither were the good kind which one dreams of. One was a joke, I think, from a buddy and his lady friend. A joke. Definitely. I think. While the other, was from some random dude I met at the bar , waiting to order a drink. Who asked me would I be up for it, the other people involved being him, and my buddy. The same one who was with his lady friend. She got the chop it seemed. I politely declined his offer, and pretended to accept the drink he bought me. Don’t worry, I made sure to swap it for the one he bought for himself. Weird enough that I saw the 3 of them getting a taxi together afterwards.
Seeing as the stand-up was recorded this week, I am aware of how it went. The reaction to me doing stand-up last week was… “Are you serious? You’re joking?” before I went up, and “Well done, good boy, here’s a biscuit, fair play” when I came off stage. This week, the reaction was… “Are you sure? Do you want to do it again?” and then “Well, its done, better than last week.” Ha, progress in my eyes, practice makes perfect, can’t beat awkward silences and bombing. Once again the funniest part of the night, for me, was hunting down the organiser to get paid. I was literally chasing him through the bar, in one door, out the other, down one stairs, up the other, finally catching him, out of breath, in the men’s bathroom. And, catching him out when he claimed he couldn’t pay me more than last week, seeing as he only had €100 notes(?), he had no change. That works for me, the less change you pay me with, the better. My fee is steadily rising!
Other meetings in Dublin went well. It seems. I think. Then again, who knows. Not one to jump the gun. I am unaware, it seems, when it comes to the big things. Thankfully, for my own sanity, I have found myself becoming more aware of the smaller things. I now work in tandem with my shadow to determine when I might need a haircut. Not a mirror. But my shadow. Isn’t that great work by me?! My priorities are really in order. A slow, dumb, dumb day. Half thinking of going the text route. A “Yes” blogaruu would make far more sense.
Still not sure if I even like this song too much, but, anyways, Yes.
Enough Talk, More Writing! 