So it’s a Friday night. You’re getting ready to go out gallivanting. Brushing your teeth. Doing a little jig. Hear a knock at the door. Hmm. Who’s that? Shimmy your way out, electric toothbrush still whirling away. Open the door. It’s the police. Oh Jesus. What have I done now?
Very sad day. Just took down my Christmas tree. Meant to do it last weekend but I couldn’t bear the thought/too lazy. Now it’s down. Meaning Christmas is over. Done. Dusted. Out. Buried. No more. Hard to take. Although the thing is:
Does Christmas ever even start in LA?
Not at all.
Week leading up to Christmas: No buzz. At all. Few places had decorations up, of course. Shops were plumping and pimping out Christmas deals. But all felt fake. Selling. As opposed to cheerful. Plus, I too was working a good bit – Book on – so it kept my mind off the cold, hardened, heathen, non-Christmas buzz in the air. People don’t even say ‘Happy Christmas’ here. It’s all ‘Happy Holidays!’ Just in case you somehow offend someone? Funk. That. Christmas. On! Ye whures.
Pint Per Pub. Shots Encouraged, But Purely Optional...
As always, 12 Pubs of Christmas held high hopes for kicking the Christmas buzz into gear. As always, initial responses to the mighty pub crawl were lukewarm/confused/uninterested/horrendous. Mighty. Thankfully, closer to the day, a group formed, Christmas jumpers were purchased, and the crawl was on. (Either way I was going on it but always nicer to have others in dodgy Christmas jumpers join you on your way.)
That was a good hoot at least. Quite and polite at first. Chug and chug at second. Warming up at third. Banter at fourth. And people out of their shells at five. As always, one quiet guy in the group burst out of his shell with a demonic smile. Hilarious guy who I know only as Dave. Don’t remember much about him. Just that Continue Reading »
Dark. Dreary. Drab. Depressing. Dire. Dismal. Doleful. Dreadful. Downer. Dose. Big bulbous buckets of gushing water. Tut. The week before Christmas the rain held a reign of terror over L.A. Brutal. In every way. I know. But it did. People can’t cope. Simply melt away at the sight of rain. Panic kicks in. Folk freak out. Mighty fun really. Particularly the week before Christmas. The week when the fun and anticipation is meant to be kicking in. The week when the Christmas spirit is mean’t to be freaking you out! In a good way. Instead. Just surrounded by wet moaning non-believers (in Christmas). Kind of weird too seeing as Christmas is full on advertised everywhere. TV non-stop. Every show has a Christmas special. Every shop has a Christmas sale. Every person… Doesn’t really give a hoot aboot it. Almost everyone anyways. Almost all Americans at least. Europeans were believers. Just surrounded by non. Asked an American buddy if he was looking forward to his Christmas dinner… Dinner? I’ll eat dinner when I’m hungry I guess. A burger or something? I don’t know. What do you mean? Oh Jesus. Christmas buzz, in full swing! Closest it felt to being like Christmas in any way was when I accidentally knocked over the Christmas tree in the foyer of my building. Lugging in DJ gear out of the rain. Wet shoes. Wet leaf. Wet floor. Slip. Catch. Bag. Balls. Fall. Tree. Fall. Catch. Ish. Christmas balls. Everywhere. Picked it up and danced on as quick as a can. And you know how quick cans can dance! No harm done. Just my composure. Shhh. And so this was Christmas… ? Continue Reading »