New Free Book Chapter!

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Who Are You? – The Who

You know what’s mighty: RanDumb’s now rated #2 on the Amazon Humour charts. Oh. Betsy!

You know what’s not so mighty: Toothaches. Almost sent me back to Ireland yesterday. Just so I could go home and hide in my bed until the pain was over. I know, my threshold is high. Praise the Lord for booze. Kill those wisdom germs.

You know what’s weird: When you go to the bathroom and a fly just lands on your, eh, um, ahem. And then stays there. While you’re mid-stream. Pre-tty odd. Must be some sort of omen. Lots of spillage. And this is a great story! Thank you.

To celebrate all of the above happening yesterday, I’m going to horse out a probable preview free chapter teaser from my highly anticipated new book…

‘Hubbulla!’*

*May not be the actual name.

I’m going to try a little experiment as well for a few days. To read the PDF of the sample chapter ‘Choking The Chicken’ all you have to do is simply click on the link below and Tweet or Facebook that you just downloaded it. Pre-tty easy! I think. Let’s see how it goes. First draft too. Go easy on her. Now… Chicken on!!!

Or if you can’t figure out how to Tweet, click here -> Duu?

Shuffle – Bombay Bicycle Club

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 »

Free. Megan Fox. Music.

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The Night Out – Martin Solveig

Apparently. If you have Megan Fox in a headline, people will automatically click on it. Did it work? Nice insider trick for any copy writer out there! Speaking of inside information: You’d be surprised at how many people book me for DJ sets without ever hearing a mix I’ve done. No clue if I’m good or not. Amazing. Take Friday. Deep down the writing well. Late afternoon. Email: Hello fine sir. Got your contact details from another DJ. Want to play at this venue tonight? Emmm. New venue. In fact, probably Hollywood’s new hot spot. SBE group’s latest venture. (If you’ve ever watched The Hills, all those clubs are SBE.) Anyway. Decide. In. Or. Nay? Money wasn’t what one might expect. But. Foot in the door and all that. Cool. Dance on. I’m in. And just like that, you’re DJing at another Hollywood hot spot. Mighty. Ish… Continue Reading »

Watch Me Wow!

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Short film of Randumb book whuring at the LA Book Festival. Mighty dancing. Imagine: This went on for hours! Amazing. Filum on!

P.S Apparently you can call anything a short film these days.

Got Stood Up?

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Last week I finally giddied back up on the horse. Stand up sit down one. Aboot time. One might say. She has been a while. By my reckoning a couple months shy of a year. Long enough. Day of the show. Usual gibber… Ah shur I don’t actually even like doing it (Still debatable whether or not I actually do enjoy it. On the day. Covering my back. You know. Just. In. Case). Followed by me wondering if I had enough material for my set. Followed by writing a few pages more worth of gibber. Quantity. You know. Just in case. Followed be a few cocktails to calm the nerves. Back. Good to go. Thankfully. Turns out to be a… Continue Reading »

Trainee Priest

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My last blogaruu post was published in an extremely hungover state. Since then, I have stayed in all day, mulling things over. You could say, I stayed in my head all day, but I won’t. A few mighty choices were made and also good guidance was received, I am pumped again! Flashbacks from last night have also been flooding back all day long, some quite funny, however, most of which would be unsuitable for the blog, no one wants to hear those stroies. All I will say though, is that you can get away with murder if you use the line “Sorry, I’m a trainee priest”. Immediately you are looked upon in a different light, and all is forgiven.

The origins of the line came about, I think, when I was trying to be nice to a girl who was not my type, and so to speak, I had to dodge a bullet. Normally, I might be nice and avoid the truth about me playing dumb to any rare advances, by telling the girl, sorry, I’m gay. A good line which has no comeback really in Ireland, no matter if she does or does not believe you. However, this line cannot be used in West Hollywood. If so, a girl will say, ok, no problem, and bring 3 or 4 gay friends over for you, not the desired outcome. So, instead “Sorry, I’m a priest, or a trainee one anyways” is used, sheer brilliance in my opinion. 

Last night I was unfortunate enough to get stuck as a wingman with a girl who had an immense dishwater personality. The conversation was brutal, not only could she not understand me, she wasn’t my type so it wasn’t worth the effort to explain what I said with her, the conversation was flowing, one way! Stuck for a few drinks, me talking to her plain expression, getting nothing in return. Every time I would try to engage a few words out of her by asking a question, all I got in return was her plain gaze looking at me, waiting for the question to come, not understanding my accent to realize I had already shouted at her, five times, “What did you say your name was again?”.

You know a conversation is not going well when a question like “So what way do you drive to work from your house? Do you take that street or this street? Oh yeah, good call, that street is way better” is asked in order to beat a few words out of someone. Just as I was about to ask what her car was like for miles per gallon (how bad is that?!!) I managed to stop myself, and stop the torture. I knew this was the nadir, enough was enough, I’m going for a stroll, this is horrific. Quick walk around the bar, not much going on, back to my buddy and the two girls, the job. 

By the way, I am a brutal wingman, as in horrendous, I can’t imagine anybody actually does like the role, playing second fiddle. Unless the girls are models, which happens 9 times out 10 I suppose. Sure. You end up talking to someone you don’t really want to talk to, and who probably doesn’t really want to talk to you either. It is a match made in heaven, lose-lose situation. Anyways, I get back to the group, and her friend kindly informs me, in front of everyone, that dull as dishwater really wants to make out with me, ha, her exact words. Eh, oh Jesus, no thank you, beep beep, is that my phone, who is texting me at this hour, hang on, I’ll be back. Another stroll to the bathroom and back again, to be told again by her friend the same thing, with dishwater just kind of nodding along solemnly, in a plain, boring, dull fashion, very enticing. 

Sorry, I can’t, I’m a priest, well almost one, just one more semester to go. Still though, I can’t really do it, pity too, it was an appealing proposition you threw out there. “Oh my Gawd, are you reelly?” My buddy chips in with a “Yeah, he is, can’t do it” and backs me up. Thinking about it now, the following reaction is probably why I used the line in the first place, ha, maybe not to turn down, but to turn up, so to speak. They love it, eyes are glistening, a real life priest, oh my Gawd. Balls, should’ve used the gay line. However, it does bring about a bit of humour at least… “So, are priests allowed to have sex?” It depends… “On what?” On what the girl looks like. Ha, she understood that and was not impressed.

To make a long story a few lines longer, it ends with the girl, somehow, suggesting we should hang out again, we should do this more, it was fun talking to you (??!!!) and holds out her phone. I pretend not to see it, so she asks for my number. A battle of wits ensue…”So what’s your number Merrick, I’ll call you” 4… “That is funny, what is it?” Just 4… “You are funny, no seriously”… Ok so, 44 “Seriously? Is that an Irish number? Do you have an American cell?” No, thats it, my Irish number, just call 4 or 44. 

Maybe it was this reaction that reminded me to use the line in the club at the top of my street later on last night. It can be used in numerous ways really, I would highly recommend it. Also quite useful for the next day, ha.

Moving on, I was probably better off staying at home all day. The one time I did go out I ended up insulting somebody. On my way to the shop I had no change for the homeless dude who is entertaining and worth every dollar I give him every few weeks. I’ll get you on the way back boss! Buy the food, looking forward to it, good song comes on my iPod, happy days. Walking home, I see a different homeless guy sitting down by a wall near the shop. He motions towards me, I sing him a few lyrics of the song I am listening to, and kindly give him a dollar. Strange, he doesn’t seem too happy with that, stands up, how ungrateful is he, I’ll stick with the usual homeless guy from now on, and I keep on walking. I can hear him shouting now at me, and walking after me. I gave you a dollar buddy, its all I can afford! I take out my earphones, and realize the mistake I had made. Re de de.

Turns out that the homeless guy was not asking me for money, but instead asking me for a light for his cigarette. And it also turned out that he was not in fact homeless, he was just a normal guy sitting down against a wall waiting for the bus. Oh right. Sorry about that boss, no offence intended, the scruffy look is in! At least I got the dollar back too, wuu huu.

Song of the day… Underdog by Kasabian