Hung Like A Horse!

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Thrift Shop – Macklemore & Ryan Lewis

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 »

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Dancing With Leperchauns

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Maybe I’m just a wee bit of a funking idiot. Maybe it’s just because I had an average day and night. Maybe I just didn’t celebrate it the right way. Maybe it’s because I didn’t get to go to a parade. Or. Maybe. Perhaps. Paddy’s Day. Is. Quite over-rated. Ridiculously so? Maybe if I was American. And needed to feel more Irish. As it is the cool thing to be. To be true. Perhaps. Or. If I worked a 9-5 job and got the day off work, just to celebrate. Then. Perhaps. Paddy’s Day might live up to the hype. However. I am not. I do not. Instead. Tried too hard. Thought too much. Hype machine. Overload. Hyperventilating. Brown bag. Hi Pip. Meet ape. Continue Reading »