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 »

Weekend at Bernie’s

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Running Up That Hill (Louis La Roche Remix) – Kate Bush

Some things in L.A appear will never change. Not unless I do, anyway. Such as, people calling me by the wrong name over and over. Ever growing list at this stage. The usuals still apply. Merrick. Eric. Omar. Moved on a lot to Merk. Murk. Maaaaarrrk. Sometimes when I say my full name I get mistaken for a Mexican guy named Marquez. And then at one point someone working at Coffee Bean thought my name was America. Combination of being asked a question by two people at the same time: ‘Your name… Merrick?’ ‘So a large coffee?’ Eh, Mark – Yeah… ‘Coffee for America!’ Although another time I asked for coffee recently I got the reply: ‘Cathy? I’m not too sure. Let me check – Hey guys, does a Cathy work here? Sorry man, no Cathy.’

So that was fun.

Considering all of the name confusion that has already occurred due to my accent and mumbles (along with everyone in L.A having lazy ears, tut), I was still a bit surprised about my name morphing earlier on today: Continue Reading »

Boom Boom Boom…

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I Want To Know What Love Is – Foreigner

Let me hear you say WeHo, WeHo! Mighty Monday was had today. Why oh why, do you say? Well, let me stop speaking in rhyming riddles and calm down a second.

Now.

OK.

So.

I’ve been going through a bit of a power ballad phase, in case you were wondering. Some way to wake up in the morn, nothing beats a good fist clencher. Also going through a bit of a writing phase. Sit. Com. On. Working hard on writing a thingamajig called a Show Bible (known as a business plan in the real world). Everything needed to Continue Reading »

Phot’ho.

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Sit Down – James

“For most writers, there is always a tension between a lived life and a life of writing.” A Hodgkinson

Fair point. So after being a hermit for a while, the past two weeks have been spent galavanting. Full. On. Fun!

Unfortunately little time spent blogaruuing. Luckily. A picture paints a thousand words. So I have developed into a photo ho. Lights. Cameras. Flashing. Helping me remember what actually happened the night before…

The Man is in town. So I took a dip in his pool…

Then I sat by the pool and had a think. Continue Reading »

Omerricka!

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Hollywood (Felix Da Housecat Remix) – Penguin Prison

Off the top of my head I can only think of two things: Continue Reading »

Bang. Bang. Ba. Ng.

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Roxanne – Strange Talk

Birthday. Birthmonth. Bert on! Beach. Party. Celebration. Malibu. Malibooze. Maliboobs! Paradise. Cove. Kaw. Bird. Shrimp. Wine. Cocktails. Lounge chairs. Hi life. Hello living. Drink. Glass. My. Hand. Gulp. Pause. Laugh. Another drin- Plop. Huh? Seagull. Kaw. Kaw. KAAWW! Flying. Attacking. Dropping. Dumping. Plopping. Into. Glass. Hand. Mine. Dunk. Lucky? Me!

So that was a fun birthday. Speaking of… Continue Reading »