Mechanic? No. Idiot? Hopefully.

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There shall be no more long, looong posts giving writing advice, or any advice really being dished out, it has more or less been decided. The reason being, using this simple metaphor, is that if you wanted to find out about cars, you would probably go to a mechanic. Or someone who knew what they were on about. You would not go to an idiot who would know bob all about them… “Yeah, the key goes here, and then the petrol goes there, and thats about it I’d say” then giving you two thumbs up. As a side note, there shall also be no car related advice either.

Today has been spent trying to thrash out the last few scenes of the sitcom episode. The worst thing I could’ve done was get so much done in one day, a few days back. I set the bar too high, or else made myself relax too much. I have the end all in my head, good to go, but for some reason I do not seem to want to put it on paper. Perhaps, it is because I got an old bout of doubt today. This episode is average, grand, is it really even funny… that kind of thing. I think I need someone who either has never met me before, or read the blog, to read the episode, so that I can get a fully impartial opinion. Or someone who is not a fan of mine, in the slightest. Surely, in fact I am positive, that there is a bucket load of people who fit that description.

I’ll snap out of the doubt by tomorrow, back on the horse again, almost there and all. I half decided today as well only to blog on, from now on, when I am in L.A, as that is 99.9% of the reason people read the blog. I think, or presume anyways. Stats alone have shown that if I throw a celebrity name into any story, the reading figures will go through the roof.

For example, the most eventful thing to happen to me, today, was being chatted up by a girl, in a very mundane situation. This might be stating the obvious, but I am a big fan of when a girl goes out of her way, to chat me up. Who isn’t? I think the reason why, for me, is that it is so rare. To be chatted up, unexpected, without initiating. I am a fan. Usually I would be the one with a dumb old approach, not that hers was dumb. It was just so ordinary, going out to my cousin’s jeep to get my phone, and being asked for my number.

See, that in itself is a fairly pointless and stupid story. The kind of one which I have previously stated I would not tell, as nobody wants to hear those kind of stories. People are probably reading it, saying to themselves “What an ape, who cares? So what, do you think you’re cool now that a girl chatted you up. Well done. Stay in L.A, don’t ever leave.”  However, it was told for a purpose, to highlight two facts. One, I need to get out of the house more while I am in San Francisco. And two, if that girl was attached to a celebrity name, the story would be transformed into something else. She would not even have to be a good looking celebrity. Or a successful one. Or even for it to be a girl! If I was to say the girl was Rosie O’ Donnell, or Ellen DeGeneres telling me we had similar haircuts, and it happened in L.A, in Hollywood, the whole story would be seen in a new light.

People would now be reading it, probably, saying to themselves, depending where they were reading it “Jaysus/Oh my Gawd, he has some life in L.A, off being chatted up by Rosie or Ellen in L.A, some life”. It is a bit odd. Instead, it is just some random girl, whose name I can’t remember. 

There was another, underhanded, sly reason for that story too. Hopefully, and I am positive of this too, there has to be someone who read as far as here, and is now saying to themselves “What a f**king idiot, why did I just waste my time reading this crap when I could’ve been on Facebook”. If you are that person, if you are, then get in touch. I need your opinion on the episode I have almost finished.

Two songs today. The first is a pretty cool video, all done in one take, by a dude who is talented as funk by the looks of it. B*****d. Impressive hula hooping too.

In Step by Frankmusik

Second is by another highly talented dude, good title too. Plus, my gym buddy has a cameo! I love L.A! And celebrity stories! Wuu!

I Poke Her Face by Kid Cudi (Feat Kanye West, Common, Lady Ga-Ga and A-Trak)

Gymps!!!

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I am trying to decide whether I will start my roommate’s fun filled blog today instead of mine or tell you about my ape like story? Ape, I hear you say? Ape it is. 

Big day yesterday. A very nervous day for me. First day of my new job, remember, the one that doesn’t pay me any money. Big day for a chump like me. Seeing I was on at 12, had no mixing equipment, or mixing ability that I know of (yet), I got up at 11 to prepare for work. I hooked up a 3 hour playlist, where every song ended with a similar sounding beat the to start of the next one, mixaruu on! All I needed to do was stand there with my headphones, pretend to be mixing, and I was a born again DJ.

Having re-read my spoof DJ cue cards with all my lingo, found my best DJ-esque t-shirt and equipped with my laptop and cable, I was good to go. The sun was shining, L.A was buzzing, the walk up to the gym had me pumped. In I get, and go to the front desk, informing the girl I was here to DJ, wuu, get ready to be pumped. She gives me an inquisitive look, oook, let me just check, I was never told anything about that and the manager has just left. Ooook, I’ll just go get a Red Bull to wake me up. So I go over to the little shop part, Red Bull it up, ah shur would you look who it is, my old buddy Common has come to join me for a beverage. 

While he is waiting for a shake of some sort to be made, he seems to remember me and sparks up some conversation (my achievements have taken a beating lately, so at this stage, the fact that someone remembers who I am is pleasing, how the standards have dropped!). “What up Irish, are you in working out?” Not today my common man, I am DJ’ing in a minute. “In the gym? How did you get that gig? Funds your drinking at least man!” I choose not to tell him that I won’t be getting paid money for the gig, just great publicity and all that crap, ha. I realize that Common has now a new found respect for me it seems, he has gotten the impression that I am in the music business as well. I forget as well to inform him that I am actually not, who was I to burst his bubble.

While we are talking music, and as Common gives me one of his demos to see if I will play it sometime, ha, spoof, I notice that the guy with the fairly bulbous head next to us is trying to edge into the conversation. Back off buddy, I am letting Common sell me the concept of his demo, give the man a chance. At a second glance, I see that its Craig David (I think anyways, looked like him, English accent, sounded like him, I am presuming it was him). I didn’t really want him to give me a demo of his to play as well, so I ignore his efforts to join in. Around this time the girl from the front desk comes back over, and ruins it all.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt, you’re actually not DJ’ing at all today.” I look at Common, and see the respect drain from his face. He thinks I am a spoofing ape, tuts at me, shakes his head, then says he’ll be off, must go work-out. As he goes up the stairs, he turns around taking one last look, a look of disgust, and shakes his head, how could that Irish guy have led me on! I swivel to the girl working there, you ruined it all woman, how could you do that, you gymp!!! “Yeah, Jim said you were going to come in on Monday at 12? Not today” I told Jim yesterday I would start tomorrow, as in today. “Oh yeah, that probably meant come in on Monday” Oh right, that makes plenty of sense. I am being turned away from my new job that I won’t get paid for, this is a great feeling.

She tells me that she could ring the manager again and see if I could do it maybe for an hour now. The pity vote. However, I get the feeling she might not know much about setting up the sound system, so I inquire if she does first before she goes back and rings the manager. “No, I wouldn’t have a clue, you should be able to figure it out though, right, it should be easy for you.” Ha, do I look like a DJ or something to you? I’ll hold off until Monday, I don’t want to risk feeling even stupider by struggling to set up my equipment, i.e plug my cable into the correct slot, rocket science really.

The dejection and gimp feeling on the walk home was tremendous. Just when I thought things could stoop no lower or become more comical, lower they go. To save myself looking like a complete fool, as opposed to just a gimp, I decide to buy mixing software so that when I do go up on Monday I can at least have that up on screen and pretend to be using it if anyone walks by. It only cost me $50. Which was great. So far it has cost me only about $68 ($18 cable that I’m still not sure is going to be the right one) to not work at a place that wont pay me anyways if I do every end up working there. Great work if you can get it, lucky me!!!

At least I have a plan to spruce up the gig on Monday if it does actually go ahead. I am mulling over having the dude from Bros’s song at hand if he happens to be in working out. About time someone else is embarrassed in that gym besides just me. Song of the day was needed to chill me out on the way home… Paper Aeroplane by Angus & Julia Stone

Brad, I Feel Your Pain…

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I now know how Brad felt when he left the set of Mr & Mrs Smith and had to leave Angelina to go back to Jennifer. I am in almost the exact, exact same situation. Almost. L.A is my mistress, Angelina, San Fran is my Jennifer. I used to love San Fran, my favourite city in America by far. There are only two people I know that liked San Fran more than I did, a scone and a rink. Now, all I think about is L.A. I wonder what I’m missing out on. Why did I not stay put. Will it be the same when I go back. A lot can change in a week, what have I done?!!!!

I’m walking down the street in San Fran, waiting for someone to pretend to be my friend and con me out of something, or potentially give me a big break. However, unlike L.A, no one glances twice, they don’t look to see if you might be famous, they don’t care. There are no mishaps waiting around the corner, or famous people to bump into. Just boring, regular, sound people, tut tut, for God’s sake, what a crap city. The only people who are off kilter are the millions of homeless people but what good will they do me (the movie I was thinking of has been done, apparently). Where have all the fake smiles and fakes boobs gone to?!!!

The weather in L.A is perfect. Hot during the day so you know you’ll be wearing shorts. At night its cool enough for you to wear a new jacket that you want to show off, as if though you personally hand stitched it and deserve credit for it, or not wear one at all.The weather in San Fran is almost to a tee like the Irish weather. Cold and raining at night, humid and windy during the day. The wind is blowing in all directions here at the moment as well, ruining my well combed hair, what a crap city!

People get my name right in San Fran too, I’m mumbling more than ever now just to bring back the memories of Omar and Merrick. Why doesn’t anyone Google my name here as well by the way?!!! Pardon me, who am I? Thats more like it, oh, you asked how am I? Tut tut, not so good! Tissue anyone? I have a load to spare!

Where have all the perks of a gay neighborhood gone as well? I’m in the gayest city in the world now but there are no free gym perks here. I’m paying like everyone else. There is no Common in the gym for me to chin wag with, only commoners like myself, pink heads and sweaty machines, tut tut, what a crap city!

I presume L.A is struggling to cope just as much as I am since I had to leave, obviously she is. I wonder if she is moping around watching Scrubs and drinking tea all day, not thats what I’m doing or anything. Speaking of which, I no longer even have a Coffee Bean to mosey on up to if my day was going slow, I don’t want a cheap tart like Peet’s Coffee replacing her! I might text L.A, see what she’s up to tonight, see if she’s up for a quick chat on Skype later on.

Here’s the song I have lined up to play once I get to fly back down to L.A, sorry San Fran, its just no longer the same this time around, we’ve grown apart, I’ve found someone else. Apparently Brad played this for Jennifer as well as he drove off…I’m Leaving You Because I Don’t Love You by Jens Lekman.

Who’s Your Paddy?!!

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Yesterday was a highly confusing day. I was lost as to when to celebrate Paddy’s day. I was looking forward to it, purely to utilize my Irishness once to the max. However, I found out that most of the celebrations were on Saturday, it wasn’t a national holiday here too, there was no day off on Tuesday for the big parade. Or the boozing the night before. So I went to the gym to clear my head, I could decide then when I’d celebrate it.

The gym I’m getting for free is getting better and better, it’s brilliant. The talent is funbelievable, and the women aren’t too bad either, wahey boss. Plus now I’ve a new gym buddy. I was trying to hog two machines yesterday when a guy asked if he could use one along with me. Alright, fine, but don’t hold me back, I’m working here. I recognized him from somewhere, not sure where. He was a big dude, and as I’m almost doing my back in using the same weights he just used on the machine, I see its the rapper/actor Common. So now, instead of purely doing my back in and making whimpering, grunting noises because of the heavy weights, I’m also trying to be cool and pretend like I don’t recognize who he is. I’m sure he’s doing the same. He moves onto the bench press and asks if I’ll spot him. He just made it official, we are gym buddies from then on in. He even wishes me a Happy Saint P day maaan when he finds out I’m Irish. I was going to say “Thanks, who’s your Paddy?!!!”, using my cheesy line I had saved up, but thought he might not fully get it/understand my accent. Plus it’s not a good place to get mistaken asking a guy who’s your Daddy, highly gay gym and all. I let it go.

So after I shared a protein shake with my new gym buddy, had lunch, recorded a new song with him, discussed how he prepared for American Gangster, did the Riverdance for him, I went home (only one part of that was true, surprisingly). My roommates told me to get ready for karaoke, it was time for the Paddys day celebrations!

I felt cheated by karaoke this week though. The crooner was back, singing the same song. The Asian dude and R Kelly were back, singing and rapping the same song. The two random girls dressed up in hockey outfits were back, rapping the same song. It was all a sham, they came every week, I was gutted! There was, however, a new guy who not only sang a Meatloaf song superbly, but also managed to do the robot while singing, highly impressive. Plus I think Justin Timberlake was in the place boozing on, but I wasn’t fully sure so can’t say for certain. He looked the spitting image of him and dressed like him and was in Hollywood so more than likely was him.

I decided my voice was in flying form to sing (I was drunk). I intended on singing Common People by Pulp. It was probably a subconscious shout out to my gym buddy. I flicked through the big, big, big book of songs they gave to choose from, looking for that song’s code to hand up and get my name on the list. However, while flicking through the book, I was getting distracted by 80’s classics. Will I do Bette Davis Eyes?!! 99 Red Balloons??!! Vienna?!!! Take On Me?! Addicted To Love?!!

In the end I’m not sure what song I murdered and pillaged. I think it was She Drives Me Crazy by Fine Young Cannibals. It took them so long to call me up, and with the green beer flowing for free, being Irish and all, I had no clue what song I had picked when it was eventually my turn to go up and sing. So, up I go, thinking I can sing whatever song it was without looking at the words, mumbling along “You and I, 99…You’re going to have to face it I’m…Take oooooooooon me…”. All wrong. I was so bad to start with, my roommate had to come up and sing along with me. Once I had my back singer in place though, transformation time, I blossomed, I was like Tina Turner, or Joe Dolan, someone like that. I was strutting and slurring. I managed to belt out the chorus, hands over the head clapping, broke it down, acoustic version, lighters lit up in the crowd, people crying, encore encore! Oh, what’s that, I can’t stay up and hog the mike, my turn is over? Just one more song, I’m warmed up now. No? Seriously? Just one more, maybe two? Ok, sorry about that.

I was horrendous. In a good Irish way. I even managed to finish off with a “Who’s your Paddy?!!!” to the crowd. A collaboration with Common is in the works, I’ll keep you posted.

Song of the day is the song I think I sang last night, who knows. Either way it is a savage song, and an odd video…She’s Drives Me Crazy by Fine Young Cannibals