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 »

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 »