What do you call a ponder pipe that just lays around all day? Mopey Dick. Badum. My first day in London, I was moping like no other. Woke up early. Phoned the prison. Spoke to Kailand. Told me her news – “They keep giving us bananas and milk for meals, I’m hooked on the milk.” Slurp. Filled her in on my news – US Embassy said there’s nothing they can do, magistrates decision so just have to sort it out when you get home. Some dose. Slurp. Kailand is upset. But still. Her spirits are high. Night’s sleep always helps in fairness. Or else they were spiking the milk.
It was then realised that it must be hard to keep conversations flowing with people in prison. Both had filled the other in in detail what had happened since we saw each other last (about 24 hours ago). After that, our news seemed insignificant or non-existence. I’d phone back and Kailand would tell me she had a nice non-English speaking conversation with an Indian woman about milk. I’d inform Kailand that the hotel room was nice but all the TV stations seemed to be showing was the Big Bang Theory. Then Kailand had to go to get more milk. I’d phone back. Find out if the milk was really cold or room temperature. Called off again to go brush her teeth if she wanted to. Phone back again and then… I was told Kailand had been taken away. Being brought back to the airport. Put on a flight. Which flight? Wouldn’t tell me? What time? Hung up on me. Dose. Wouldn’t speak to Kailand about milk again until she was back in L.A, eating some Thanksgiving turkey and egg nog. So that was a balls. Continue Reading »
Better late than never. My top songs of the blogaruu from 2010. Not that they were released in 2010. Just that I used them at some stage in the blog. Either I really like the song. Or. I am a fan of the story that went along with it. So.. Song. Which blogaruu. And a reason why as well. Not sure how many. Short and sweet!
Dark. Dreary. Drab. Depressing. Dire. Dismal. Doleful. Dreadful. Downer. Dose. Big bulbous buckets of gushing water. Tut. The week before Christmas the rain held a reign of terror over L.A. Brutal. In every way. I know. But it did. People can’t cope. Simply melt away at the sight of rain. Panic kicks in. Folk freak out. Mighty fun really. Particularly the week before Christmas. The week when the fun and anticipation is meant to be kicking in. The week when the Christmas spirit is mean’t to be freaking you out! In a good way. Instead. Just surrounded by wet moaning non-believers (in Christmas). Kind of weird too seeing as Christmas is full on advertised everywhere. TV non-stop. Every show has a Christmas special. Every shop has a Christmas sale. Every person… Doesn’t really give a hoot aboot it. Almost everyone anyways. Almost all Americans at least. Europeans were believers. Just surrounded by non. Asked an American buddy if he was looking forward to his Christmas dinner… Dinner? I’ll eat dinner when I’m hungry I guess. A burger or something? I don’t know. What do you mean? Oh Jesus. Christmas buzz, in full swing! Closest it felt to being like Christmas in any way was when I accidentally knocked over the Christmas tree in the foyer of my building. Lugging in DJ gear out of the rain. Wet shoes. Wet leaf. Wet floor. Slip. Catch. Bag. Balls. Fall. Tree. Fall. Catch. Ish. Christmas balls. Everywhere. Picked it up and danced on as quick as a can. And you know how quick cans can dance! No harm done. Just my composure. Shhh. And so this was Christmas… ? Continue Reading »
Days. Some people are not fans of certain ones. Monday gets a bad doing. Harsh enough. Basically you’ve cut that day loose. You and that day are now kind of goosed. Never going to get on. I’m actually a fan of Mondays. Recent ones anyways. Some spent on yachts. Others spent on jets. How bad. Thank you. Giddy up. Will do. So usually I am a fan. However, this week’s Monday, as in good old yesterday, maybe not so much. Maybe this week’s Monday woke up, put on its wife beater vest, had a smoke, drank a case of Stella Artois and then tried to beat me down with as many dumb drunk punches as it possibly could. Oh Monday… Continue Reading »
Here’s an unfortunate correlation: Fuller days. Hungrier blogaruu. Tut tut. Catch up on. Few nuts to shell out. Apparently. Graced the sheets of a big magazine this week. Howdy! Or something like that. Looking well I’ve been told. Headless. Body only. Few chins. Better off. Butter heads are better. Or something like that. Nut on. New soccer team had a mighty victory on Thursday night. 2 nil down at half time. Horrendous first half. Second half. Different story. Insert football phrase here. Won 3 – 2. Mighty stuff. Being honest, a lot of it might be down to me. In fact, a bucket praise should be shoveled. Inspirational. What with me coming off at half time, and all that. Turning point… I believe so. Ahem. Go on the Gypos! On the down side. Kind of feels like bees are raping my knee. Bees with rabies. Angry bees. Oh re de de my knee. Fun times! On the up. If ever our team has a cook up (as teams invariably do), we now have a pre-tty mighty chef on board to give us some tips. Good player too. Giddy up the Ram! All of which concludes the nutshells off the top of my bloated head. Anyways, enough talk, more music! Continue Reading »
There shall be no more long, looong posts giving writing advice, or any advice really being dished out, it has more or less been decided. The reason being, using this simple metaphor, is that if you wanted to find out about cars, you would probably go to a mechanic. Or someone who knew what they were on about. You would not go to an idiot who would know bob all about them… “Yeah, the key goes here, and then the petrol goes there, and thats about it I’d say” then giving you two thumbs up. As a side note, there shall also be no car related advice either.
Today has been spent trying to thrash out the last few scenes of the sitcom episode. The worst thing I could’ve done was get so much done in one day, a few days back. I set the bar too high, or else made myself relax too much. I have the end all in my head, good to go, but for some reason I do not seem to want to put it on paper. Perhaps, it is because I got an old bout of doubt today. This episode is average, grand, is it really even funny… that kind of thing. I think I need someone who either has never met me before, or read the blog, to read the episode, so that I can get a fully impartial opinion. Or someone who is not a fan of mine, in the slightest. Surely, in fact I am positive, that there is a bucket load of people who fit that description.
I’ll snap out of the doubt by tomorrow, back on the horse again, almost there and all. I half decided today as well only to blog on, from now on, when I am in L.A, as that is 99.9% of the reason people read the blog. I think, or presume anyways. Stats alone have shown that if I throw a celebrity name into any story, the reading figures will go through the roof.
For example, the most eventful thing to happen to me, today, was being chatted up by a girl, in a very mundane situation. This might be stating the obvious, but I am a big fan of when a girl goes out of her way, to chat me up. Who isn’t? I think the reason why, for me, is that it is so rare. To be chatted up, unexpected, without initiating. I am a fan. Usually I would be the one with a dumb old approach, not that hers was dumb. It was just so ordinary, going out to my cousin’s jeep to get my phone, and being asked for my number.
See, that in itself is a fairly pointless and stupid story. The kind of one which I have previously stated I would not tell, as nobody wants to hear those kind of stories. People are probably reading it, saying to themselves “What an ape, who cares? So what, do you think you’re cool now that a girl chatted you up. Well done. Stay in L.A, don’t ever leave.” However, it was told for a purpose, to highlight two facts. One, I need to get out of the house more while I am in San Francisco. And two, if that girl was attached to a celebrity name, the story would be transformed into something else. She would not even have to be a good looking celebrity. Or a successful one. Or even for it to be a girl! If I was to say the girl was Rosie O’ Donnell, or Ellen DeGeneres telling me we had similar haircuts, and it happened in L.A, in Hollywood, the whole story would be seen in a new light.
People would now be reading it, probably, saying to themselves, depending where they were reading it “Jaysus/Oh my Gawd, he has some life in L.A, off being chatted up by Rosie or Ellen in L.A, some life”. It is a bit odd. Instead, it is just some random girl, whose name I can’t remember.
There was another, underhanded, sly reason for that story too. Hopefully, and I am positive of this too, there has to be someone who read as far as here, and is now saying to themselves “What a f**king idiot, why did I just waste my time reading this crap when I could’ve been on Facebook”. If you are that person, if you are, then get in touch. I need your opinion on the episode I have almost finished.
Two songs today. The first is a pretty cool video, all done in one take, by a dude who is talented as funk by the looks of it. B*****d. Impressive hula hooping too.
In Step by Frankmusik
Second is by another highly talented dude, good title too. Plus, my gym buddy has a cameo! I love L.A! And celebrity stories! Wuu!
I Poke Her Face by Kid Cudi (Feat Kanye West, Common, Lady Ga-Ga and A-Trak)
Enough Talk, More Writing! 