Fine folk of le blogaruu! Have a listen to me being interview gibbered by Robbo Williams about my book RanDumb as part of his new show Rudebox Radio. My drone comes in around the 63 minute mark. Just before Gary Barlow. Listen on! Duu…
Quite dumb. Since a certain book has been released – like a demented goat into the wild woods of the world – the blogaruu has gotten a fair old amount of attention. Compared to the usual unfair amount. Sometimes, it has gotten more hits in the face, than the population of some countries. Seriously. Well. Maybe not some. Maybe just one. One country. Still though. An entire country?! Blogaruu is moving up in the world! Punchbag on! With all these new visitors and tourists, I have been quite clever. Too clever. By not throwing up new blogaruus as often as before. Quite clever indeed. Instead of enticing them in and try to get them to live here, I’m merely letting new folk run off. Hopefully run off and buy Randumb, but still. More people getting in their pre-orders for book two, the better. Continue Reading »
Tea. Quite the Magic potion. Like any Irish man, woman, child, ape, leprechaun, dancer, I enjoy a cup of tea. About ten times a day. Can’t beat a cup. Or spreading the word about the magical qualities of it. However, as an Irish bape/man boy in America, I am fully aware that tea bags are not as readily available as back home. Proper ones, at least. Which is why bags of tea bags are constantly smuggled over the border by little green men on a daily basis. Irish gold. All of which makes offering tea to folk in my vicinity when I go to make a cup, an entirely polite gesture. Willing, hoping, prompting them to say no. As I know what will happen. 9 times out of 10. American folk like to try new things. Mostly. So, being asked by an Irish ape if they want an Irish cup of tea, means that they will, more often than not, say yes. As if it is a little treat. If crystal meth was seen as a jovial Irish thing, I am pretty sure people would say yes just as easily. Seriously. Try it. Continue Reading »
Radio and I have been mixing like oil and water for the past week. Pre-book launch promo. Flurry of stints on different radio shows around Ireland. All of which went, eh, magnifique. Eventually. First station. Off to a flyer. Arranged to ring me at 2:30 pm, Irish time/6.30am, my time. Up anyways, editing, rewriting, half six, no problem. Spread the word to people I knew. Tune in, here’s a link, this station, tune in everyone, tune on, hear me here, at this time, listen to me gibber. Spreading mhy word. Six in the morning, an email arrives in the door. Interview pushed back an hour. Cool, no worries. Although. Balls. First interview of the bunch, already I’m crying like a wolf. Continue Reading »
Brief blogaruu. Update you might say. An announcement. Drum roll. Re de de. The title of my upcoming book shall be… RANDUMB. Giddy up! I wasn’t sure if I was meant to keep it underwraps or not. Should’ve asked sooner I suppose. I have been informed to set her free. Just in case, she’s been registered. Although I don’t think you can register book names. Good work by me. Anyways. Time has come. Open the cage. Away she goes. Randumb. Go on the book! Still tweaking the subtitle…
The Random Dumb Adventures of an Irish Guy in LA
The Dumb Adventures of an Irish Guy in LA
The Random Dumb Adventures of an Irish Mark
The Dumb Adventures of an Irish Mark
Ha, this kind of thing is what has dancing through my head. Devil in the detail. Which to do, which, to, do. Feel free to chime in, comment-wise. The more muddle I get in my head the clearer it might become. Although my publishers could just step in. Continue Reading »
To be true, as of late, things, have been, quiet. Event wise. On the blog. A lot of rambling. Buckets of sludge. Dished out from my marsh. Struggles. Wading. Writing. Blog wise. Quiet. Life wise. Quite. Literally. Quiet. Having moved into my new apartment over the weekend, I was greeted by something strange. A chasm of silence. I mean the quietest place I’ve lived in in ages. Deafening. Silence in the building. Screaming out at me. Silent shouts. No longer talking to myself. Instead whispering. Having to go outside to listen for traffic or the likes. Anything. Even the street was silent. Feeling I had to whisper while on the phone. Seriously. Ridiculously. Quiet. Continue Reading »
Being honest, I had a blogaruu half written out before I decided I had to restart it from scratch. Thankfully, it was cut loose. Perhaps these few selected sentences will make clear as to why… “L.A.D kicked in big time this weekend. As opposed to S.A.D (seasonal affective disorder), location seems to be my problem”… “This was not just a hangover, this was a slump”… “Literally, the sight of myself in the mirror on Saturday almost made me sick.” Ha, the whole thing was just getting me more annoyed reminding myself of the past couple of uneventful days, so it had to be changed.
Lets just say I had a gloriously average weekend at best, where besides a bit of writing, not too much happened, and which I am looking forward to moving on from. Perhaps I might be feeling a bit frustrated at the moment. Which is where the title stemmed from. I’ll keep it as a souvenir to make sure I know who it is that can solve my issues!
To inject a bit of humour, here’s a funny man to start again with…
Moving on, one thing which has become quite apparent while I have been home, is how atrocious radio stations in Ireland have become (maybe always were?). Not all of them, all of the time, but the majority of them, the majority of the time. In my opinion at least. Unfortunately I left my iTrip in L.A, so every time I drive here, I make the same mistake. Well, two mistakes. First is forgetting to burn a CD to bring along with me. The main one, however, is that I keep giving the radio one last chance. And time and time again, it makes me want to bite my ears off. It is brutal! Music wise anyways, the chat shows are fine, you know what to expect from them. It is the generic, bland, horrific music that is played 90% of the time which is so annoying to me. Different stations playing the same horrendous songs that in 3 weeks people will not even remember the name of. When did it get so bad?
The worst part is similar to a scene in Family Guy, where they mock a station that plays a jingle for a good few minutes, telling you the name of the station. Then the jingle keeps going for another minute or two. On Saturday, while driving along, I noticed that one station claimed to play a fit of 6 songs in a row, uninterrupted. Probably 6 crap songs, but still, uninterrupted was the big factor. Supposedly. Bar the presenter saying a few sentences between each song. And the few ads scattered here and there. Oh, plus the jingle… “Uninterrupted, UNINTERRUPTED, music without interruptions” and so on, for at least half a minute. Which was highly head wrecking. Especially when the songs that were then played seem to be tailored only for a hen party crowd. Which is fine, I suppose, if you’re on a hen and listening to the radio at the same time. Otherwise, it is torture.
Night time radio at least has some variety. However, day time radio must be a rising source of road rage in people these days. Or is it just me? Screaming at the radio for just one good song without an annoying ape talking through it. I’ve tried going down the route of turning the radio off fully as well. However, this just leads to an odd silence in the car, a vacuum. Which feels like it should be filled with some sort of noise. Sing a song perhaps. Or else you could just start talking to yourself. Which is odd, when somebody next to you in traffic asks what song you’re singing, and you tell them the truth “No song, just talking to myself about the current plight of the radio.” Kind of weird, when they realize you’re not joking.
Now that I read back over this attempt, it is clear that I might just be using Irish radio to vent out frustrations I have in other areas. At least the first attempt made sense, in a way. As opposed to this puke-like effort. Anyways, like all other frustrations I might be encountering at the moment, it will just have to be dealt with. Suck it up. Stop being a bitch. And bring back the week, more constructive things outside my control can potentially occur.
Best part of the weekend might have been watching Louis Theroux on BBC tonight, about his show on meth addicts in California. Watching that has made me realize that I may have met a few more meth heads myself back in L.A, than I might have initially thought. Which is good to know. Plus, I read yesterday about a serial killer who seems to have resurfaced in L.A, and is on another rampage. The grass is far greener.
A song to wrap this mess up…
Cruel Intentions – Simian Mobile Disco (Feat. Beth Ditto)