Cornflake Boy (Solomun Vocal Remix) – Marbert Rocel
So earlier today I had a mighty meeting. Mighty man. Who also just happens to be a tres successful producer. TV. Movies. All those kind of likes. Mighty mighty!
First time in Soho House too. Savage venue. Plush. Lush. Gush… I could go on and on about the savage venue. Or. Could perhaps just show you these photos… Continue Reading »
Carmaggedon: Some spoof. Never seen the roads so quiet. Hollywood hype! Waste of a shotgun. End of the world will have to wait.
Me: Some idiot. Have you ever tried to take shortcuts, even though you’ve never been in the place before? Some clown. Driving back from a gig on Saturday. Never there before. But I know where I’m going. Let’s take this left here. Down this lane. Now if I just swing around on this 270˚ angle. Go up this hill. Along this back road. And I should be home… Why am I on the Pacific Coast Highway?Heading for San Francisco? Some funking idiot. Berating myself in the car: Why are you trying to take shortcuts?! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!!! Only took me thirty five minutes to get back to the original road I was on. Some. Ape. Dope.
DJigs: Corporate gigs are the way to go. Forget bars or clubs. One night. About two hours of work. Rent. Sorted. Giddy up! No wonder singers and the likes do those weird gigs in Saudia Arabia or on a Russian billionaire’s yacht. Money talks. Let’s not mention how irregular they can be. Shhh. Nice views too. Rooftop on… Continue Reading »
One thing I oddly rarely do is auditing. Which is odd. Since growing up I wanted to be an auditor. True. Read my book prologue. If it’s in that, you know it’s the truth! Another thing I oddly rarely do is audition. Which is odd. Since I live in LA and I thought the whole reason I moved here was for acting. Or writing. Or something. Read my book prologue. That is also in it, so must be some form of gibber truth? Anyways, last night I get an email from LA Models. (Remember?They signed me on donkeys ago?) Email which went something exactly like this… Continue Reading »
Rollin’ & Scatchin’ (Chilly Gonzales Rework) – Daft Punk
While Ireland is being battered by all angles at home, it seems, I too have some important news to start off with: Got a hair cut this week. As opposed to a haircut. Hairdressers truly do baffle me. Ask for one thing, forced to deal with the some thing they give back. Tried to be as specific as possible. Almost as if I was asking them to do me this one favour, just one time. Please? Even had photos to help me describe what it was that I wanted. Hairdresser just looked at me. Down at me. Disgust. Contempt. Perplexed. Nonplussed?! All of the above. Eyes to heaven. And then went off and did her own thing. Cut one hair here. Cut half a hair there. Chat with her buddies. Slipped off to the bathroom. Still not finished. Please wait. Chilling and twirling in the chair while she disappeared. Returned. Did not cut one more hair. Decided, actually, she was finished. My hair was exactly as I had described. Twirled me around in the seat to show me the back of my head in the handheld mirror as if this was some sort of fool-proof proof that she did exactly as she was asked. Fooled me. Couldn’t see myself properly with their flattering light. Went to the bathroom to see if that was any better. Even worse. Made me look better. False light and smoke mirrors everywhere. Continue Reading »
One week ago, I realised two things. One. My bedroom is the quietest place ever created. My pillow screams at me. That kind of quiet. Too quiet to sleep. That kind of quiet. Tough life, I know. Seriously though. Come sleep in my bed. The quietness is deafening. Tough life. Moving on. Secondly. I’ve slipped. Fallen. Into a routine. Step by step. Particularly mornings. Wake up. Get out of bed. Right side. Literally. Walk around my bed. Over to my laptop. Turn it on. Open the blinds. Open the window. Fix my bed. Pick up my laptop. Go to the bathroom. Surf. Hotmail. BBC Football. Gmail. Blog. Facebook. Twitter. Kitchen. Bowl. Porridge. Microwave. Drink some water. Drink some more. Ding. Porridge. Coffee. Chug. Water. Brush my teeth. Clothes on. And away I go. Continue Reading »