Towards the end of last week, I had been running aimlessly around my head, like a headless chicken. It seems I like to have the storm well before the calm, letting stupid thoughts race senselessly through my head, and end up physically not doing too much, but mentally exhausting myself. And probably still not end up coming to a satisfactory conclusion to whatever conundrum was bothering me. It really is an excellent system I have put together for myself.

My conundrum was related to issues such as rent, what will I do with being so broke, visa issues, what will I do next on my quest, am I really doing enough to get where I want to be, where is it I actually do want to be, and so on and so forth. So I did what I usually do – ask everybody and anybody, who will listen long enough, for their advice, putting off making a decision as long as possible. I like to fool myself by thinking that if I ask everyone for their opinion, it is somehow a way of me being productive? With that in mind, I managed to get about an evenly matched amount of exactly opposite and differing advice. Again, an excellent system I have come up with.

Thankfully, I put the decision making process to the back of my mind and ended up having a great weekend. A few revelations were also, eh, revealed to me over the weekend. Such as, when talking to a girl in a bar, and her friend blatantly does not like you and wants you to leave, bringing up herpes, does not really help your cause “Look, I’m sorry, but for you, I’m like a case of herpes. No matter how much you try to get rid of me, I will keep on coming back.” It got a laugh, at least. Off me, in my head. Did not go down to well with the girl’s friend. Led me to believe she may have herpes, ha, only possible conclusion really for her not laughing.

Another revelation confirmed to me was that I start a new DJ job on Thursday, wuu huu, looks like it will be a paying one too, happy days. Not really the gym mix I am used to, however, it should be an easy remedy. My buddy suggested playing the originals of the remixes I play, and, it fits the bill to a tee, 4 hours is long but the healthy bar tab they are throwing in on top of the offer should help me pass away the time.

My mentor/writer friend also revealed a challenge he had for me. Not only should I go to San Francisco for a week or however long and write my sitcom pilot, I should also develop one 3-5 minute scene which would showcase the pilot. With this, I could come back to L.A, and try to use my connections with people I have met, i.e homeless guys and gay gym buddies, to try and get that one scene made. Then, not only would I have a pilot script in my hand for people to read, I would also have a scene for them to watch. Throw that scene up online, hopefully get feedback off people, with even more hope it might be good feedback, and I could have the ball rolling towards the sitcom. Some funking revelation or plan or whatever you want to call it!

Changing the pace, style and tone of the revelations, another was the fact that my buddy in the club at the top of my street, has not cut me loose on his friend’s list. This was found out last night while getting out of the taxi by my house with two buddies. To celebrate this, Jim suggested we should go inside, again, it took a lot to twist our arms. I decided to hold back on the priest line this time around, instead opting for… Oh, in Ireland, the guys dance for the strippers, so if you like, I’ll dance for you. Oddly, I was taken up on the offer a few times. And, even more oddly, I realized it is a great way to make strippers jealous, ha. “No, he is going to dance for me”… “Get away, he is dancing for me now, back off b**ch”. I stumbled onto something strange, where I ended up having two girls trying to drag me off in different directions, to dance for them? If only I could actually dance, ah, deary me (although in some circles, I am a mighty dancer!).

This weekend I have also being having an on-going confrontation with my toilet. A few more randomers than usually have been using it due to a couple of shindigs going on in my house. Today, it started to growl and gargle at me, like a gargoyle (? brutal, I know). Slowly but surely, it started to rise up like a phoenix, clamoring its way to the surface. Me, being at times a bit too smart it turns dumb, decided to just ignore it, the problem would fix itself. Finally, after I flushed the toilet in hope that that might fix it, then deciding maybe one more flush was all it needed, the toilet won our game of chicken and celebrated in unbridled joy, spilling out over the edges. My weekend was capped off wonderfully with one last dance involving a bin bag, my toilet and I, great fun had by all, knee deep and elbow deep in fun really.

Actually, no, that was not how my weekend finished. It actually ended with one last revelation. That being, when the girl who offered me the DJ’ing job in the bar texted me asking if I wanted to come down to the bar for a few free boozes, it may not be the best idea to have replied with the truth. Which was me telling her I couldn’t, I was too busy doing a dance with my toilet. And how I was up to my elbow in, eh, fun. Which obviously got lost in translation, and which I am still in the process of explaining to her exactly what I meant. And how it was not meant in an insulting way. And yes, I still do want to DJ on Thursday. All misunderstood from my honest text? What a load of… fun!

Three songs of the weekend that kind of sum up my weekend, yet, in another light, don’t really sum it up at all, ha… Get On Your Boots (Justice Remix) by U2

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=16TL1H9EKhA]

Number 2… Too Many Dicks On The Dance Floor by Flight of The Conchords (I couldn’t find the remix I have but anyways)

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Wl_uQOABxg]

And finally, the third song of the weekend… After Laughter Comes Tears by Lykke Li ft El Perro Del Mar

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bvx42e5U0VA]

Tags: After Laughter Comes Tears, DJ, El Perro Del Mar, Flight Of The Conchords, Get On Your Boots, Justice, Lykke Li, Remix, Strip Club, Too Many Dicks On The Dance Floor, U2