Tag Archives: Private Jet

Miami, Unreal! Private Jets, Dancing! Sludge, Eh…

2 Comments

Miami – Will Smith

Car services picks me up. 9 bells. Slightly late. Balls. Farewell to Bob. Out the door. Back to London. Single parenthood over. 9.15. Good to go. Off to Van Nuys. Private airport. Same one in Entourage, I’m told en route. The Man. The Jack. Chowder. Charlotta. And a late ape. Weekend break in Miami. The Man’s generosity knows no boundaries! Giddy up! Flight leaving at 10 bells. Are we going to miss our time slot because of the late ape? Nay. No check-in. No security. Nothing. Drive up to a gate. Press the buzzer. Stay in the car. Drive through. Drops you off at the jet. Hassle free. Private on. Nice jet? Unreal. Like a G6? I think so. Oh Jesus. Jump out. Driver takes care of your luggage. You can just admire the view. No ID check. No shoes off. Belt off. Pants down. Nada. Just stroll on. Sit down. Stewardess says hi. Champagne? Bloody Mary? Cup of tea? Ehhh. All three? Oh Betsy!! Drug barons must be zipping to and fro? Miami on!!!

Continue Reading »

Bob And Norm

4 Comments

Bob – Drive-By Truckers

So my buddy Bob is visiting at the moment. Two weeks in LA, first time here. Go on the Bob! Now I fully realise what it’s like to be a single parent. No longer just a randumb dope on my own. Permanent plus one as well. Juggling tour guidance with work. Detached from my own thoughts. Neglecting my mistress, el blogaruu. Tough going for a Nark like myself. Which is why I’ve now taken a vow of abstinence until marriage. Better safe than sorry. Ahum’p. Like a few of my buddies, Bob has bought my book Randumb, but hasn’t read it. Doesn’t actually admit this to me, so I like to ask him what’s his favourite part and then he changes the subject (Unless he just has no favourite part! Ha. Eh. Meh). As a result it’s fair to say he had no clue what to expect of the LA way. Bob, say goodbye to Norm… Continue Reading »

I Am A Sex

Leave a comment

Snake Charmer – Bag Raiders

No doubt you will remember well from ages ago in the blog, I quoted a line from Whoopi in Sister Act 2. Remember that? Obviously. You know… “If you wake up thinking about singing, then you are a singer.” Whatever you think about all day is what you are, kind of thing. Leading me to the conclusion at the time that Whoopi was profound (let’s ignore the fact it was a script) and that I was a: Writer. DJ. Woman. Well it turns out that Whoopi did not just come up with that herself on the spot. Nay. Comes from Ralph Waldo Emerson I do believe “A man is what he thinks about all day”. Discovered this today. Obviously this then made me reconsider Whoopi’s genius. And, in turn, rethink my original conclusion for myself. Do I still spend my time thinking about writing, DJing and women all day? Have I evolved? Stagnated? Regressed? What have I been doing all week? What is it I am now?! Time to figure out… Continue Reading »

Tip Of The Night. Top Of The Morn!

2 Comments

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!

Continue Reading »