New fussball team. Gypsy F.C. Giddy up. Quality team. Currently vying for a spot with a man who has captained the English fussball team. And another chap who has won the World Cup. Seriously. Obviously they too were impressed with my Collingwood and Crowley winning days. Hoviously. Anyways. Fun team to play on. First game tonight. First win tonight. Wuu duu. Gypo on. Unfortunately. Now. I. Am. Goosed. Beyond belief, kind of goosed. Hottest day in creation today in L-Hey. Ran through to the night. Hot as funk. Heat was hot. Now has me rambling. Go on the exhaustion. Drivel me this. Anyways, a lot of Bananarmama cocktails were sweated out. Booze oozed. Merkatinis. Ye whures! And now. Too goosed to finish off my original gibber blogaruu. All aboot Smurfs too. Mighty gibber. Tomorrow. Runner up. Horse up this article which appeared in the Sunday Independent a few weeks ago. Only realised today it was online. Sweet Lord, dragging this out. Should really know by now when to just sto… Continue Reading »
If I thought my traipsing all over L.A was tough enough, it is far harder back here in Ireland. At least in L.A, I found myself a hub (WeHooooo) where I could walk to most places. Even if it was an hour’s walk away. On Google’s map paper, it is well do-able. The problem is that while being back in Ireland, I am based out of Cork. Where not too much happens, in the world I am just to bust into. So, meetings are usually held in Dublin. Weekly trips to Dublin are actually a good laugh, don’t mind them. Sometimes though, conveniently, meetings are held in Galway too it seems. The day after a meeting in Dublin perhaps. Handy, handy. Tours of Ireland are always fun.
Best part of all, is the way one gets from Galway to Cork… bus on! Train to Dubla from Cork. Bus to Galway, wifi on-board, from Dublin. Then a bus back down to Cork from Galway, as there seems to be no other way.
I have realized that the problem I am developing in Cork is slipping back into my old routines too easily. The rut is calling me! More and more programs of mine are now being recorded on Sky Plus. My sleeping patterns and daily activities are heading back the way I was before I headed to L.A. I have also noticed that I am not seeing hot, new women while out in Cork. Same as before so! Era shur, I’m only joking! There are plenty of hot women from Cork. Just no new hot women in Cork.
Getting the train up to Dublin, I started to wonder was it really worth it. Going up to Dublin, to drop in a 5 minute DVD, that really the postman could’ve done. But, just to be sure it got there on time, and to try and make another good impression when I met the person, I thought it would be best to head up and hand it in, in person. Great call. Fleeced by a company in Dublin to burn one DVD. €25 for a 5 minute DVD (not even fully 5 minutes) of my stand-up “highlights”, ha, so far back in Ireland. At the time I was in such a rush that it never clicked. Now though, all those helpful smiles and best of luck comments, and then charge me that much. Some joke. You can buy 6 copies of Superbad in Golden Discs for 24 bones. And, more importantly, that DVD is actually funny.
This morning I headed off to give Rita my DVD. Pumped, yet shattered from lack of sleep and being up so early. It was a highly strange combo. Anyways, I get to the place nice and early, unlike me. My good intentions did not quite go to plan. I was asked to have it in before a meeting that was going ahead on Thursday morning. As it turns out, I was far too early for the lady who wanted the DVD, before she went to the meeting to show it to others. I’ll wait around. Yeah, she should be in, in about 2 hours time maybe. Not too sure. Good stuff. Just wait around. In the end, I just met a girl who works with her, and gave her the DVD instead. I am an efficient postman if nothing else. All the way up to Dublin, for nothing. Some waste of time.
Next port of call was onto Galway. Meeting with Tina on Friday, plus an informal meeting with a director/producer. Network on at the Film Festival and all that! I arrive into Galway at about 5.30 from Dublin, go straight to my hotel, and check my emails. The job, received an email at almost exactly at the time I arrived into Galway, telling me that my meeting with Tina, scheduled for the next day, was cancelled for some reason. The funking berries. I was giving the person’s phone number instead, and could do it over the phone if I like. Wuu. A phone call. Can’t they be made from Cork too?
Touring Ireland for absolutely no reason. Reading that email made me feel like a complete idiot. Being honest, I was pretty close to a nervous breakdown. I could feel my mind frying. Instead of letting that happen, I ended up just trashing my hotel room. T.V out the window, messed the sheets around a bit, and left the toilet sit up. It was a mess. Well I did all but one of those things.
However, luckily, I can be a clever idiot at times. For some reason, my brain kicked in. Sent an email to the lady in charge of the festival. One thing led to another. Ended up being invited for drinks, a meet and greet, before a big dinner that was going on in a hotel near mine. And, conveniently, the person I came up to Galway to meet, would be at the drinks shindig. I could now meet him there instead. Wuu huu. Time to bring out the charm!
Thankfully, the informal meeting, in the quiet corner of the packed room, went very well. More information has been asked for, interest shown, up to me to deliver, blah baa baa. That 20 minute meeting made the two days of traipsing around the country well worth it. Celebrate the small victories kind of thing. Did a bit more networking for myself while at the drinks shindig. Directors, producers, and even a gay couple, who looked a lot like the couple from Mexico, were all giving me their business cards. Speaking of which, I still need to get my own made up. It is below buying a new pen on the to-do list. I just gave them my blog address in return. A mighty calling card!
Something else kind of made the 2 days of touring all seem worthwhile. Night ended normal enough. Kind of. Some guy I recognized from t.v, real country guy, no clue of his name though, started singing Dirty Old Town with me at the bar in a rowing club (random enough?). Apparently I was singing it to myself (again… ? Maybe a defense mechanism for knowing no one at these things) So, he decided, in between asking me questions in Irish, that we should both horse into a full on song. Good laugh, arm in arm with him at the bar. Me sober. Him paralytic. Me departing. Him falling off the stool. Me coming back to write my business card address on his hand. All about the networking, making my mark.
There was a better point in there that would’ve wrapped it all up nicely. However, due to being tired beyond belief, it eludes me at this moment. So, a song will have to do…