Tag Archives: Stand-Up

LonDumb – Part IV (Or… Kneed A Dwarf In The Face.)

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Skunk (Continuing on from… LonDumb – Part I LonDumb – Part II LonDumb – Part III)

Parklife – Blur

“Want some skunk geezer?”
Pardon?
“Some skunk?”
Do I want a skunk?
“Yeah. Want to buy?”
Why would I buy a skunk?
“You being funny?”
Am I being funny?
“You is being funny, pretty boy.”
Oh Jesus.

So I get out of the tube. East London. Not sure what part. But already it looks dodge. Balls. Never considered this when booking stand-up gigs. Presumed central-ish would be grand. Anywhere close enough to Picadilly. This seemed close. And it was. Just also dodge. Hmm. Not sure which way to go either. East? Which way did I come out? I’ll head to that Starbucks, do some sussing. Oh right, just up the road a bit? Cheers boss, and an espresso to go. So I’m back strolling up the street. Convinced Starbucks guy pointed me in the right direction. Looking for a venue whose name is now eluding me. King’s Arms? King’s Cross? Queen Bishop? No clue. Oh yeah, the Goat’s Head? I think that’s it. Hang on, what does this dodgy looking hooded dude want… Pardon? Oh right, I think he’s trying to sell me some skunk. No clue what the funk that is but- He’s getting angry. Time to walk faster. Hey hup. Quicken the pace, hang 0n, giddy up, the Shepherd’s Cross, found the place, in I go, skunk, back up away to funk! Continue Reading »

A Hollywood Christmess Story

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In Dulci Jubilo – Mike Oldfield

Merry Christmas RanDummies and mighty blogaruu readers! Hope you are still getting your turkey sweats on. While you do, why not enjoy this piece which I wrote for an Irish paper recently. Pants off. Trifle. On!

A Hollywood Christmess Story

Is that Slash? Hmm. Is he looking at me? Hmm. Not sure. Is it him? Is he real? Am I drunk? What’s going on? Hmm. I’m going back for a kip.

Next morn. Stephen’s Day. Boxing Day? Not sure what they call it here in L.A. Eyes open. I’m on a couch at Robbie Williams’ house. Awake. Alone. Alive. Stiff back. Slept awkwardly. No sign of Slash. No sign of anyone. All left. Or upstairs. Sleeping. Sensible folk. Unlike me and my dry mouth. Tastes like glue. And so this is Christmas. Continue Reading »

Boys Town To Manhattan!

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New York New York – Frank Sinatra

So I land. Collect my bag. Walk out the airport doors. Cross the zebra crossing. And hear a guy stuck in traffic shouting at me out of his mini van window. “Welcome to New York, you’re going to rock it in this city, am I right?!” Before I get a chance to reply Why yes sir, I certainly hope so! he adds on… “And I hope you get raped!!” OK? Thanks? Oh Jesus. I’m in New York. Continue Reading »

I Shot The Sheriff…

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Angelina/Zooma Zooma – Louis Prima

Blog. Book. Sitcom. Movie. You know the plan! Time to get phase three in action. So I write a script. Pick a scene. Let’s shoot that. What do I need? Director? Sorted. Cast? Dancing. Location? Hmm. Actually. How about the Irish coffee shop down the street from me? Especially as the script is called the Irish Coffee Shop. Down I go. Talk to the owner. They agree. Just pay a fee. Oh. Yeah. No worries. Good to go. And we’re on the road! Continue Reading »

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 »

Hermit The Hog

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Flutes – Hot Chip

Wake up.

Slide out of bed.

Onto my knees.

Groan. Continue Reading »