Tropical Hayes!

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For reasons unknown, all names shall be culled from this blogaruu. Except for mine. I’m going full on narcissistic. Tropical Hayes all the way!

So it’s the day after Halloween. Actually, the night. Limo pulls up outside my abode. It’s time. Put on my private jet pants. Grab my bag. Scuttle out. Hop in. High fives. Hello’s it going. And we’re on our way. Bob Hope airport. Here we dumb. Get lost en route. Find it again. Arrive. Punch in a code. Drive through a gate. Get out of the car. Look at our jet. Say hi to the pilot. And just walk on. The mightiest way to travel. No lines. No queues. No security. In. On. Out. Mighty!

Must say, this jet was the best I’ve been on. Leather here. Plush there. King size bed in the back. Pardon? What do you mean? A bed? In the back? Yes. A big old bed in the back. Mile-high-ty! We sit down. Hostess brings us a round of champagne. When in a Rome… Cheers! Wheels start rolling. You’re getting comfortable. And then suddenly you’re up, up and wahey! Way faster than a regular jet. Almost goes up like an elevator. Shwooop. Air born again. New beginning. On our way to an island in the Caribbean. Pants off. Caribb on! Continue Reading »

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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 »

Jewish, Single… Ready To Mingle?!

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50 Ways To Leave Your Lover – Paul Simon

Have you ever had to ask yourself: Am I anti-Semitic?

I have.

So tonight started off with myself and my buddy Chowder DJing at the London Hotel. Up on the rooftop. Pool party. Savage spot. You know the one, just featured in the last episode of Entourage where Turtle was having his business meeting. (On a side note, what has happened to that show? Or was it always dodge?!) Anyway, last pool party of the summer. Dance. On! Started off well. Setting up, this little orangey brown girl with big pikey style jewelry next to us kept shouting out song requests. Please pipe down, Snooki, give us a minute. (On another side note, have you ever seen My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding? Just realised Snooki dresses like one of those brides. Good work all round). Pretty soon she was carted off by her minders, music gets going. Free booze for the first hour. Place is soon packed. Not a bad night’s work. Until we realise there’s something weird going on. Large group gathered next to us. Almost all women. All mingling about. All stopping and staring when walking past the DJ booth. Hmmm. Something’s up. Continue Reading »