Last week I finally giddied back up on the horse. Stand up sit down one. Aboot time. One might say. She has been a while. By my reckoning a couple months shy of a year. Long enough. Day of the show. Usual gibber… Ah shur I don’t actually even like doing it (Still debatable whether or not I actually do enjoy it. On the day. Covering my back. You know. Just. In. Case). Followed by me wondering if I had enough material for my set. Followed by writing a few pages more worth of gibber. Quantity. You know. Just in case. Followed be a few cocktails to calm the nerves. Back. Good to go. Thankfully. Turns out to be a… Continue Reading »
Finishing the book is the goal at the momento. The only goal. Revising, chopping, writing, editing, cluelessness… a mighty hoot! Although, I’ve realised I’m not really a fan of reading back over all my mistakes to be true, ha. Onwards and upwards. And at various points I’ve at least recognised a need to focus. Recognition. Now would be as good as any time to recognise that once more! However, New Year’s resolutions, not really a fan. Lucky if they make it out of January alive. Quickly dismissed. Fully disappear as the year goes on. Should’ve done that. Next year. Continued on for years and years. Learn Spanish? Learn a few songs on the old gee-tar? Still going strong since 1999! Wuu. Another way to fool myself. Perhaps it’s because I keep them to myself. And, as a result, less accountable for them. However, this time last year I had no blogaruu. Re de de, no little pink diary for myself. And now, I do. Duu! Continue Reading »
Excluding a bit of gardening yesterday (well, pruning to be exact) the rest of my weekend has been worked around a couple of gigs. One stand-up in Dubla, then back down to Cork to DJ. Stand-up is the definitely the area where I tend to get a bit of nerves before going on. And the area that I do the most amount of work for, beforehand. Or so I let myself believe anyways. I slowly figured out, that it is actually the area I do the least amount of preparation for, even though it is the one I should be doing the most for. I think the fact that it is only a 15 minute time slot is my downfall. Subconsciously I must just let myself think then, that less amount of time should be used to prepare for a gig, as opposed to writing, or DJ’ing, as they take longer to do. If that makes sense. As a result, when it is gig time, the pressure starts to creep out of the cupboard. Like an exam I have not fully studied for, trying and hoping to wing parts of it.
Spoon
The main reason for the gig was the fact that a producer I have been meeting recently was coming along, to check it out as part of a proposal. On top of that, Continue Reading »
If you ever want to feel like a true winner, wake up on a Monday morning with a hangover. What a winning feeling that is, too much fun. A great way to start the week. Only way is up, I do suppose. The blogaruu has been silent for the past few days, so time to catch up in one swift, foul swoop. Back on the road to productivity. I’ll start with my stand-up gig on Thursday.
I must admit, the gig was special. Really special. Not sure what it was exactly. But it was special. Do you know when everything just works out to a tee? You couldn’t plan it better if you tried. It was as if the earth aligned with the comedy moon, and everything just fell into place. New material and jokes were told with aplomb. Punch lines were delivered with panache. People clapping, standing ovations, crying out for more. Jokes that you think might be a bit dodge or 50-50, turn out to be unbelievably well received. Unfortunately, it was not one of those nights. Nowhere near. By special I mean horrendous. It was bad. Technically, it was actually funny. Just not the kind of funny I was aiming for. One those nights, where nothing goes to plan. Probably because I never had a plan to begin with.
It was probably the busiest night in there so far, maybe 100 people. I know, huge, stadium gigs might have to be the next port of call. It seemed to me as if the crowd were mostly new faces I had not seen before, so I decided I would open with a few of my new “jokes”, then fall back on my old reliables of life in L.A to finish on a high note. Whenever I watch the acts on before me, I’ve realized that all I am doing is hoping they wont tell jokes or stories similar in any way to mine. Thats it. Couldn’t really care if they’re funny or not. Just as long as they steer clear of what I have lined up, they’ve done well in my eyes. Seeing as I have practiced a bit of material based on life in L.A, I decided I would try out some new stuff about what it is like being home in Ireland. Along the lines of how much fun it is back here, comparing here and there, and how big a winner in life I am just waiting in limbo land for my visa. Those kinds of hilarious angles.
The acts on before me got a few laughs, nothing major. However, there was a girl whose act was a bit to similar to mine for my liking. As in she mentioned a few incidents in L.A, saying L.A a lot, as if to rub it in that she was marking her territory before I went up. Not that she had a clue of my act or anything, but it seemed like that to me when that was my selling point. A few of her jokes ran a bit too parallel to mine, confusion and dumbness, so I had to go with my new material now no matter what. The material that was still in the idea stage, yet to have been developed as far as punch lines. That top dollar material I had up my sleeve. Dumbly, I convinced myself I would think of the big bang punch lines when I was up on stage. As you do.
Straight off, messed up the first joke, mocked myself, without giving a back story as to why I was mocking myself, and messed up joke number one. Good start. Moved on to saying how delightful Irish girls and their love of fake tan are, went down like a lead brick. Oh Jesus. Dirty looks from girls in the crowd. Tried to compare them to an orange version of the Blue Man Group. No one seemed to have a clue who they were, must be an American thing only, cue more silence. (Here they are to give you a reminder. I think I might start to use a projector in future to explain my jokes. Which is a great sign.)
Thought I might move on to relationships and couples in Ireland, asking one couple in the crowd about a certain topic. Bad idea. If the guy answered truthfully, and laughed, he would be in the bad books with his girlfriend. So, instead he shrugged his shoulders, didn’t commit either way, and ruined my point. Cue more silence. Thankfully, at this stage, a guy in the crowd started shouting something up to me. Heckling I think its called. The thankful part was that he was foxy, and a gimp, so at least I got a few laughs mocking him and his big red target on his head. Seeing as I was getting a few chuckles now, I decided it was time for the old reliable sure fire stories. Unfortunately, it was not happening for me. Gay horse and accompanying story was not well received. Which is my jolly banker!
At this stage, I made the executive decision, that there was only one thing to do. Made the right call, enough was enough, lets end this now. Well, after I tried to have some banter with two drunk Dutch guys in the crowd first. In German. In German? Obviously enough, that went down well. A quick Auf Wiedersehen, and that was that. Overall, a special performance. My HBO Special should be in the pipeline soon. Although, on an ironic note, it was the most I have been paid for a stand-up gig. And, the guy in charge loved it, and booked me again for next week straight away. He must like seeing me bomb. Bomb on!
Blogaruu is long enough, so I won’t start on my bit about the Hungarian stalker I think I have, or the mix tape scenario that is developing, I’ll keep it for tomorrow. You must be so funking excited!!!
Seeing as the video is pretty cool, Strawberry Swing by Coldplay.
I’ll try to keep this short. I am getting a burst of writing, so I need to channel it towards a script, the blogaruu might have to take a backseat tonight it seems! Like a jilted lover, I hope it wont feel too neglected. Speaking of which, I think I may know what it feels like to be in a one of those relationships where the blonde, bimbo stripper marries a rich old man, hoping he will croak quickly so that she can enjoy his money. Kind of. In the worst comparative way ever. Anyways, it is good to try out what that must be like I suppose. To help me with my decision, in case any old rich woman ever offers me like wise.
For a girl in that situation, call her either Anna or Nicole, this is how I would imagine our current situations being a tad similar. Lets say her original plan did not go as she might initially have hoped and the old man hangs around for longer than expected. I imagine when she realizes this, time must stop in front of her and gloat. Ha, time will say, looks like you’ve to stick with him longer than expected. Not so clever now, huh. Taunting her that she will just have to live with her situation, and wait until he croaks. Make the most of it, keep fit in the gym, do bits here and there to stay busy. Can’t have it all her own way, but when she is living it up and blowing his money, she can look back and smile at those boring times. Eh, which is similar, if not identical to me killing time and trying to be productive while I wait to hear back about my visa. World’s worst comparison? Quite possibly. Although I do have faith that I could easily do worse.
Today I tried to be proactive, and start lining up DJ gigs in Dublin for myself before I go back up for a bit of stand-up. Practice and an influx of money are always handy. However, knowing where to start when you don’t really know the scene in a city is a hurdle. Similar to the acting side of things here I suppose. If I knew promoters or bar/club owners in Dublin I could work some DJ charm there. Seeing as I don’t really know any, I decided to do what at the time seemed like a very productive idea. I emailed a few different venues, along with a demo sample, seeing if they needed anyone for a night or two. Similar, I imagine, to what a few dumb, bimbos might have done if they were to get proactive in their hunt for a rich old man to marry.
Never, ever, ever, have I ever heard of someone getting a DJ job, from their credentials in an email, ha. “Hi, I DJ, I think I’m great, you will too, any chance of a night or two? Here’s a link to a demo. Cheers.” Pretty appealing offer, I think you will agree. Honestly, a dumb bimbo would have a better chance of getting herself a rich husband, by sending out an email “Hi, I’m me, here’s a photo, hope you’re rich, any chance of marriage? Thanks” than I would with mine. Unfortunately, at the time, I was imagining people working in bars and clubs all over Dublin, would stop whatever it was they were doing, throw down their work tools, and just start to dance to my demo when it started to play. Screaming at whoever it was that read my email that I had to be hired for a few nights!!! Seemed like a logic reaction to me at the time. That was until about a minute after I sent the batch of emails. Then I quickly realized I wasted too much time on that fruitless activity.
Although, one place did reply saying that they were booked out, but would be in touch if anything came up. Maybe not so dumb after all. Which doesn’t really make any sense, as I still didn’t get any joy. It has just occurred where I got the idea perhaps. Thinking back, I remember talking to a DJ from San Francisco, who is a really good DJ (like myself, I hear you think, thanks) who was asking me if I knew any venues in Dublin that might be interested in having him play, as he was doing a tour of Europe, and Ireland was not on the list for some reason. Seeing as he really wanted to check Ireland out, being 1/17th Irish himself, he emailed a few bars & clubs, but didn’t get any replies. What a chump. Wait until I tell him I at least got one reply.
I did well with keeping it short. I couldn’t jilt the blog. At least it kept me busy for a while longer than I anticipated. I’ll mark that time off on the calendar, every minute counts.
Yesterday I spent the majority of the day cutting, dissecting, converting, molesting and butchering clips of my stand-up together for a reel I need to show Gina G. As you might tell from my lingo, I am not the most adept person when it comes to using iMovie. Once you get into the swing of things though, it is pretty cool to use. Even if the video you’re working on ends up looking like it was edited by a goat. Another thing which has cropped up from viewing back different stand-up clips I have, is that I tend to curse a lot while on stage. And ramble. Along with making people cry with laughter, obviously.
I also realized another thing yesterday, not only related to the stand-up, but also to my writing. The podcasts which I have been listening to were playing away all day, and two things stood out for me. Firstly, just because a character is real, it doesn’t mean that he/she is necessarily funny enough for what you’re writing. Knowing when to give up on a character, or cutting a joke that you like, is key. Not really well explained so far, but I suppose if a character in real life did a funny thing, that was due to more the circumstances than the character, probably better to cut the character. If you get what I mean? No? I’ve lost myself too with my point being honest.
Moving on, second thing which a lot of writers said in the pods, was that they didn’t really have the greatest imaginations in the world. If they did, they would probably be writing Sci-Fi. And probably at Comic Con right now. Instead, they draw on life experience and all that, working from there, then letting their imaginations run wild. Which made me figure out something. Just because a story happened in a certain X way, followed by Y, and then ended with Z, doesn’t mean I really have to stick to it. Again, just because it really happened, doesn’t make it always funny to others. We all have buddies or stories that are hilarious to ourselves. But, they are probably not always as funny to other people, particularly randomers. I might be painting a bleak picture of my stand-up or writing, but thats not the case. I just need to remember these points to bring them up a level! Time to let the imagination run loose. Inside jokes or scenarios where if you knew the back story, then you’d find it hilarious, have to be cut. Obvious points to a fair few people I would imagine.
Anyways, going along the theme of starting off with a funny story that actually happened, here’s another one. So, I have been waiting to hear back from numerous people about numerous avenues which I am exploring. Yesterday, I got the call from one such person. I had been wondering why it was taking so long to get in touch, meetings had gone well, part of the process, that’s life, chill out, and all that. However, I forgot completely that other factors come into play as well. Such as the real world. The one with the recession and cut-backs. And job losses. Have you ever seen the Seinfeld where they get a pilot made, goes well when it is aired, however they then get a call to say the boss has left the company, gone crazy, the new boss is not a fan and their show is getting chopped?
Ok, so that didn’t happen to me yesterday. Bring it back a few stages though, and something like it did. When I got told the news that the person who I had met with about a certain project, was being let go as part of cutbacks, my first reaction was obviously to feel bad. And concerned. For that person. Then immediately worry about where that left me. I know it might not sound the most compassionate, but its being honest. I felt bad for both of us. Now I knew why I wasn’t top of the person’s priority list, stupid old egotistical me, huh?! In the midst of me commiserating (it actually doesn’t make any sense having cut-backs in that person’s area) and giving words of encouragement, I managed to get the details of the person that was one up on the chain of command. The yes/no contact. All is not lost, but it was a curve ball which I didn’t really expect. I know its not the right word to use, but I suppose it is funny enough. From the laughing at my predicament, point of view anyways. Funny in an ahh… ha, kind of way.
See, I think the above story is a prime example of what I was talking about earlier. Funny at the time perhaps, or somehow funny for me, but others might not get a laugh or see the humour in it. Who knows. Thank funk my L.A optimism was boomed back into place before it happened, it’ll all just make for a better book in the end! Plough on!
Two songs, first is pretty funking cool, in the James Dean way. Second one I downloaded, forgetting I don’t need gay gym remixes for the time being. However, seeing as its Friday…
Enough Talk, More Writing! 