Tag Archives: DJ'ing

Planet Bluto

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Personal Jesus – Depeche Mode

Quite clearly you do not want to hear what’s it been like down the writing well this week. How one kind of goes slightly mental down there. In my defence, I am spending a lot of time with myself. In my head. Alone. Me and Irene. Cackling away. My gibber can be hard to handle at times. Imagine when it’s all the time? Dose.

Also, I am quite sure you do not want to hear about a few slick DJigs this week. Pool parties. Rooftops. Savage spots. Fun all round. Giddy up that green honey. Here is a tremendous photo encapsulating how tough DJigging can be at times… Continue Reading »

Rise Of The Ape!

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Smalltown Boy – Bronski Beat

Interesting news. All aboot the rise of a certain ape. Betsy. Randumb has been climbing the Amazon top rated Humour charts like there’s no tomorrow! Chart topping. Show stopping! Notified that it was in the top 40. 30-something. Hmm. Interesting. Few places above Tina Fey’s book. Sure she’s gutted. Checked the next day. Into the top 20. Mighty. Climbing. Giddied up over Jimmy Fallon’s book! Again. I’m sure he’s freaked. Let’s look again on Friday… Lucky #13!

Like all apes, I was now checking every chance I got. Saturday night… Continue Reading »

Carmafunkingidiot

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Big Bad Wolf – Duck Sauce

Carmaggedon: Some spoof. Never seen the roads so quiet. Hollywood hype! Waste of a shotgun. End of the world will have to wait.

Me: Some idiot. Have you ever tried to take shortcuts, even though you’ve never been in the place before? Some clown. Driving back from a gig on Saturday. Never there before. But I know where I’m going. Let’s take this left here. Down this lane. Now if I just swing around on this 270˚ angle. Go up this hill. Along this back road. And I should be home… Why am I on the Pacific Coast Highway?Heading for San Francisco? Some funking idiot. Berating myself in the car: Why are you trying to take shortcuts?! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!!! Only took me thirty five minutes to get back to the original road I was on. Some. Ape. Dope.

DJigs: Corporate gigs are the way to go. Forget bars or clubs. One night. About two hours of work. Rent. Sorted. Giddy up! No wonder singers and the likes do those weird gigs in Saudia Arabia or on a Russian billionaire’s yacht. Money talks. Let’s not mention how irregular they can be. Shhh. Nice views too. Rooftop on… Continue Reading »

Amerricka! Funk Yeah!

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I Want To Break Free – Mariachillout

Seeing as the rest of America is celebrating its birthday and its right to dance, I feel now is the perfect time to do a quick expose. Show the people of Ireland (et al) the truth! What it’s really like to live in LA. Won’t lie, pre-tty gruesome. Remember Schindler’s List? Kind of like that. Exactly. Ish. Maybe. Not at all…

So at times I’m required to work under absolutely dreadful conditions. Outside. Sweltering. Loud. Noisy. Crowded. Eye sores. Everywhere. Just. Tut. Terrible.

Apologies. Should’ve given ye a warning. My bad. As you can see, that was tough. To make matters even worse, some days we’re required to do this after work… Continue Reading »

Two Girls And A Carrot…

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All Together Now – The Farm

Ménage à trois. Sounds unreal. Holy grail. Conjures up magical imagery. Hot. Toned. Tanned. Women. Feathers. Candles. Wings. Gloriousness. Fireplaces. Rugs. Cherries. Berries. James Bond bedroom scene style lighting. Saxophones, hooting from somewhere. Kenny G next to the roaring fire, no doubt. Tooting out the soundtrack. Seeing as it is the Holy Grail, Indiana Jones comes swooping in with a whip. In case one of the girls is into that. Whips. All that gibber. Funreal! Although. A lot of dudes are in this threesome. Which. Is. Odd. Anyways… Continue Reading »

Suge Knight To… Doris Day?

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Over & Over – Hot Chip

To my naked eye, it would appear that Memorial Day weekend is the time Americanos like to booze and booze until they can’t remember a thing. Thankfully, I remembered it all. Starting with Saturday night. DJigging. Mighty hoot. Until. Manager asks us to shut down the music. Crowd were going too nuts. Testosterone flying off the walls. Estrogen dominating the dance floor. Not enough security to control them. Dose. Shut down. At least we got to finish earlier than anticipated. Happy days. Celebrate on! Last call. Left the bar. Strolling home. Myself. Chowder. Ted. Trying to flag down a cab. No joy. Stroll past my old street. Old haunt at the top. Shop of Bodies. Big Jim. Head bouncer. Long time no see. Shouts over. Where’s my free book, Irish man?! Where’s my dignity, Big Jim!? Before we know it, Jim is twisting arms. Come in for a drink. Nay, not a fan any more! Twists: Free in! Ehh. Can’t remember the last time we were here actually. One drink? Why not? Never hurt anyone! Famous last words. Continue Reading »