Tag Archives: Host

Bob And Norm

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Bob – Drive-By Truckers

So my buddy Bob is visiting at the moment. Two weeks in LA, first time here. Go on the Bob! Now I fully realise what it’s like to be a single parent. No longer just a randumb dope on my own. Permanent plus one as well. Juggling tour guidance with work. Detached from my own thoughts. Neglecting my mistress, el blogaruu. Tough going for a Nark like myself. Which is why I’ve now taken a vow of abstinence until marriage. Better safe than sorry. Ahum’p. Like a few of my buddies, Bob has bought my book Randumb, but hasn’t read it. Doesn’t actually admit this to me, so I like to ask him what’s his favourite part and then he changes the subject (Unless he just has no favourite part! Ha. Eh. Meh). As a result it’s fair to say he had no clue what to expect of the LA way. Bob, say goodbye to Norm… Continue Reading »

Great Expectations! Oh St. Pa’tricks…

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I’m Shipping Up to Boston – Dropkick Murphys

Blogaruu, she’s been a while! My bad for the delay. Quite busy with vital stuff. Such as realising that I might be a fairy (apparently fairies can only handle or feel one emotion at a time. I am a full on fairy. Call me Tinker). And speaking of menstrual cycles… So back in the day, whenever a girl complained to me about cramps, I would complain back about people who complain a lot. Until I realised I actually can empathise. I too get man periods. Once a month. Every month. Rent cramps kick in. So now, I feel their pain. Similarly, whenever a girl complained about the thought of giving birth, I would shrug my shoulders and mention never having to deal with the pain of getting a kick in the fuss-balls. Until for some reason I thought about it like this: Imagine a little person exiting through the back door of your gift shop. If you know what I mean. I don’t think guys can fathom anything leaving through the front door, what with us not having one and all. But the back door seems to make it imaginable. Imagine that pain. Ripping. Tearing. Uncooperative. Sweet. Holy. Jesus. Must be ridiculous. Even thinking of it now is making my sphincter scream and squirm. So now I kind of understand the terror girls must have. Even worse, imagine if after all that, the child was to turn out like someone like the person writing this? For all that pain?! Dose. Apologies, Mum. Continue Reading »