White pudding. Black pudding. Slightly different. At the same time. Both pudding. Today reminded me of this fact. Lined up to be a mighty day. By mighty, I mean productive. Being an ediot looks like it could be over. For the time being. Final edits of the book emailed in yesterday. Probably no more. That’s it. I think. Done. Should be it. Should be dancing. Should be good to go. So. Then. Now. What? Crutch has been taken away from me. No longer am I… finishing off the book. Finished. Walking free. Crutch-less. World is my oyster. Time to plough on. Time to get going on the next step. I know what I must do. So. Then. Go? Into the abyss. Determined to fend off the black abyss. The unknown. Just change its name. Not a black abyss of nothing. Endless possibilities of what to do next! White abyss! Here I come!!! Here I… Oh Jesus. Drifting. Don’t know what to do. White. Black. Pot. Tom. Ate. Toe. Lost. Continue Reading »
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.
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.