Tag Archives: L.A

Santa Touched Me. Felt. Liked. Christmas!

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If It Wasn’t For You – Various Cruelties

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 »

Do You Know How Lucky You Are To Read My Blog?!

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Viro – Pryda

Some balls. Not happy. Just been flagellating myself off the floor. Feel exactly like Fionn Mac Cumhaill’s son. You know… Oisin. You know… When he left Tir na nÓg on that horse. Warned not to get off. As he would die if his foot touched the ground. Then he fell off, turned into an old man and died. Tut. Fell off the horse. Kind of like me. And the writing horse. You know the one. Horse which gets bigger and bigger and seems harder to get back on the longer you stay off. So when you do try to heave yourself back up you just end up rambling on aboot a mighty old Irish myth. Exactly like Fionn. This is going well. Being back up riding a horse. Words are flowing. Tut. Time for a rant. Funking bouncers… Continue Reading »

And Now… Balls

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In Love, Not Limbo – Of Oceans

Usually, around this time of year, you might hear the following conversation…

Brida –
Seamas –
How orr you?
Era shur…
Gearing up for the holidays?
Era shur…
Ah to be sure?
Era shur.
Divil a bit, divil a bit.

So usually you would hear that conversation an awful lot. However. Not the case in L.A. Two reasons: Continue Reading »

A Jester’s Gesture

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Indian Sun – Mean Lady

Halloween truly is the mightiest of them all in L-Hey. Complete dancer of a weekend! Unfortunately. What goes up must tumble stumble and spiral all the way down. Now feeling absolutely battered. Normal blogaruu will follow along. Can barely raise a smile en ce moment. However. Poems have been oddly flowing along (Poets still are the highest paid of them all in society… Right?!) Gibber on!! Continue Reading »

Monkey Free Crap Fun!

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Dancers. Islands. Yachts. Parts. Practice. Bathrooms. Some things are better private. Ehh… Numbers. Some things are not. One new addition to the better pile… Jets. Finally I can now confidently say: Private jets are the dancers of the air. Finally, says you. I know, says I. Giddy up! Assumption off. Jet on. Absolutely funking mighty. Planned on doing a blogaruu from up in the air. Unfortunately. Tad busy. Boozing. Dancing. On a plush private jet. On my way to Vegas. All on a Monday morning?!! Nay too shabby. Bloody Mary all the way! Literally. Go on the ape. Did manage to get a bit of mental bookaruu scribbling in, at least. Le sequel could start a bit like this… I’m on a jet. Private kind. En route to Vegas. Disneyland. Doused in acid. The land of whures. Heat. More whures. Monkeys. Mind wobbles. Crap fun. And depression. Wuu! Can’t wait. Vegas on… Continue Reading »

Woke Up In A… Holy Funk

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Fun. Here to be had. Overflowing at times. Can too much fun be a bad thing? Eh, no. Last Thursday. Funny night. Disney rated blogaruu, so a few stories will have to wait for book two! Unless you buy me a pint someday and then I will tell you all aboot it. Oh look, you can buy me a pint. Over here -> Paid content all the way! I joke. I swear. Fun night though. When you end up in a pool with your buddy, at 5 in the morning, both wearing swimming shorts belonging to the 10 year old twins of some randomer, thinking everyone else is going swimming as well, but they’re actually not, so it’s just ye, in a freezing pool, with shorts on that fit like thongs, you know it’s a funny night. Even more so when the randomer then… Continue Reading »