Harking back to my college days, oh what a lark, one thing that sticks out in my mind is texting girls on behalf of my friends. Not all the time, just some times, if they got stuck trying to woo a girl. Sometimes I still actually do it which might be a bit harsh on the unlucky girl – making her think my wit (or lack there of) is his wit and all that. I’ll get over it, I hope. Anyway, I was usually asked for help when a friend might want the girl to come out and meet him but she was leaning more towards staying in. Through my own means, I found one trick that almost always worked. The texting conversation might go as follows: Continue Reading »
Some content on this page was disabled on July 1, 2016 as a result of a DMCA takedown notice from PRS. You can learn more about the DMCA here:
It’s a Sunday night. You’re sick of talking to banterless clowns in dead bars. So you go to a liquor store. And end up down an alley. Trying to have a laugh with some homeless guy. Who’s trying to take a drink from your brown paper bag. Life. Going. Well. Wake up the next day. Look in the mirror. Shake your head. Slap your soul. Say no more. Time to cop on.
Now obviously none of that actually happened. Ahem. However. Ever since that night, I haven’t boozed a drop. Not a sniff. Not a touch. Not a smell. Nothing more. Four weeks and counting. Booze off. Work. On.
Surprisingly, far easier than I anticipated. Thought it might be tough going dealing with clowns while DJing but stick a Red Bull in the system and you’re as dancing as ever. Obviously numerous advantages to this non-boozing too. Such as, the lack of hangovers. Sundays have taken on a whole new meaning, a whole new feeling. Even the lack of mysterious grogginess felt after you’ve only had one or two drinks the night before – Gone. Now refreshed. Clear headed. Raring to go. Thank funk too. No time to be hungover.
Coinciding with a lack of booze, has been an immense amount of work. From an intense trip down the well to get a show bible written, to starting an edit of book three, to planning trips to New York, the Caribbean and London, to setting up meetings in various places, to booking stand up shows here there and everywhere, to meeting producers, to greeting directors, to lining up actors, to gibbering on, to shooting a music video, to traveling all over for DJ jigs, to doing double shifts, to them blurring into quadruple ones, to getting a haircut, to brushing my teeth, to washing my socks, to writing this blogaruu, it has been pretty full on. Look. A hair was cut… Continue Reading »
All has be quiet on the wonderful blogaruu. Head down. Editing on. So far, so mighty. Soon ye shall see and read and laugh and weep and dance and be merry!
Oh ’twill be a glorious day, to be true.
Besides that, I have kept my venturing out to a minimum. Bar some improv shindigs (mighty) and the odd Christmas shopping hunt (also quite mighty). Although, I did go out Saturday night. An odd occurrence: I was not DJigging. Blip in the system. Matrix messed up. Threw me for a loop. What to do? I know. I’ll just go to the bar where I was meant to be DJing, collect a cheque owed to me and have a pint or nine. Because people simply love going into where they work when they’ve the night off! Look-at-me-outside-of-work-hours, kind of thing. Clown. Continue Reading »
Last week. A boot. Changed my life. Hopefully you just sung that to the tune of DJ and last night. As I have been doing all day. Its true though. Last week a boot changed my life. Boot as in boat. Changed as in changed. Life as in outlook. Holiday time. Giddy up. 10 days. Short but long. Not even 2 weeks. Almost 2 weeks. Mighty stuff. Couldn’t wait. Pumped! Although. What do you do for 10 days on a big old boot? Is what I was asked. Which is what I was mulling. As I packed my bag. 10 days. In the middle of nowhere. No phone. Sans internet. 10 days. Jesus. Barely go 10 minutes without checking one of those. 1 day was an unreal laugh before. 9 more? Too many more? Might it be spreading the butter a tad thin. Might be stranded. In the middle of the Caribbean ocean. Not actually sure who’s going either. Ah no. It’ll be dancing. 10 days. Wonder what we’ll do. Quickly found out. 10 days on a yacht. What do you do? You, ehh, have… Continue Reading »
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 »
A wise old owl once told me: Go with the flow. Seeing as when you do, random, dumb fun things can happen. Friday night, prime example. Last minute, off the cuff, unexpected, unplanned. All of the above. Smattered with hype. Not the greatest night or anything. Just random and quite dumb at times. Galavants are making a comeback. Flowing, going, all the way. Amok on. If nothing else, it’ll give me a few ape soundbites…
“As I looked out the window, I thought to myself: This view is not that great to be true. A car park. I no longer believe this is the presidential suite.”
“As the convertible whizzed through the streets of L.A, I knew I had two options: Either I need to get a haircut, or the roof needs to go back up.”
“As Lindsey handed me the bottle of Crown, I wondered, what are the chances this is laced with ketamine?”
“As I woke up being pierced by the sun, I pondered… Where the funk is my everything?”