Category: Other

This is one of those rare mornings where there is absolutely nothing pending, nothing sat on my mind ready to spill out. Ironically just two days ago I was telling someone who wants to write how writing a blog is an excellent start. It opens you up to the idea it doesn’t matter what you write as long as you are writing. It’s an exercise. The stories will come later.

I need a decent night’s sleep to recharge my batteries. It isn’t any one thing in particular, just the last week. I haven’t eaten a home cooked meal in two weeks. I’ve just been surviving on the mushrooms in my hair.
(Black Book joke there for the fans).

I’ll be better tomorrow, I promise.

Last night I went to a screening at the new Warner Bros screening room in Holborn. I can’t say anything about the film because I signed a contract in my own blood with Umbridge’s special quill.
The important thing is it is *wolfwhistles* swaaaaanky! They have an actual bar. A fully functioning bar with beer and wine and stuff. A fucking bar! As a member of the freeloading international press I felt obliged to indulge before we were called in for the showing. The problem then was protocol. There’s a massive difference between having a tipple before a press screening and getting beer bonged and gang raped in a frat house.
I had to hold back. I just sat awkwardly nursing my beer, not making eye contact and trying to pretend I wasn’t taking a picture of my pass.

As I’ve already said enough times it was my birthday at the weekend.
It has dawned on me this morning.
I’m not looking forward to filling in my next form. I’m pretty sure it will be ’26-30′. That kind of stuff bothers me. I don’t want to be lumped in with adults.
When I was very little I thought 21 was old. I have an elder cousin, or at least I should say she is my Mum’s cousin and she was the coolest person in the world (aside from Dave Brown who lived next door and would break dance in our lounge). She was 21. That was my point. She seemed so much wiser than I could ever imagine being. She went to University and her bedroom was covered in pictures of bands.
I’m five years beyond that now.
I wonder what the little version of me would make of me now. I’m not so bothered about what teenage Paul would make of 26 Paul because teenage Paul needs to have a good long hard look in the mirror before he starts talking about anyone else’s appearance but what would I make of me?

I don’t feel any different. That’s what surprises me every year. I assume I’ll rise into consciousness and be a wholly different person, an adult maybe but with each year that passes I realise this is becoming increasingly unlikely. I’m just me. It makes the whole pass a lot easier.
Age really has nothing to do with anything.

I’ve been stuck on the idea of having my blog/website in my own name. Last night I finally took the plunge.
Welcome to PaulSchiernecker.com

Happy birthday mutherfucker lady plucker thumb sucker cum chucker blood sucker in the gutter gay trucker cheese cutter young putter dumb and dummer!! Xx

http://www.nme.com/news/the-cribs/68734
Paul is 26 I bet he enjoys bday bjs and dicks, he has music to play and inject aids, he is going to get munch in the form of man lunch, a munch bunch meat trunch lunch

Today I am 26. I wish it was some kind of recognised milestone but as my brother was very clear to point out I’m “basically thirty”.
I’ve spent most of today shut in the dark, recording my new EP. Rees (my buddy and studio tech) is working his magic now to make it sound good. He’s a master at that. I’m just sat enjoying my own dulcet tones.
I’ve already had so many awesome presents. Kate got me two Dylan records and some Hemingway and Wilde books. She’s also taking me to the Harry Potter Studio Tour tomorrow which I’m excited about.

I’m looking forward to spending this evening with my family and tomorrow night with my friends. I’m very lucky and very blessed.

I’m quite excited about the prospect of recording another EP this week. It’s been knocking on my head more than anything else recently. I’m really proud of the songs I’ve written and I feel it’s another step along from the Get Me To Marrakech EP I recorded myself in September of last year.
I can remember one of my friends asking why I didn’t take the time to work on the songs for GMTM for longer, to make sure they were the best they could be and I told her in six months there would be more songs and they would be better, and here I am.
I’m very lucky in the fact I can keep spinning out words at the moment. I haven’t had writer’s block proper in over a year and I feel obligated to push myself while it is coming to me.

The plan is for the six or seven tracks to be available as a free download through Bandcamp. I’m also toying with the idea of selling personalised physical copies as well. I might see how the download aspect goes first though.

It is exciting though. I can’t wait.

I don’t know if you are aware but there are other countries where it snows. When this happens life doesn’t come to a standstill, I wonder if there is even a Facebook status about it.
The fact is we love to moan about the weather. In four months time it may well be “that ‘orrible sticky weather”. It’s always too cold, or too wet or too hot or too mild.
I struggle to understand how we got this far as a species when we are dusted in snow. I’m talking more about the south now, I know they have proper snow up north.
How have eons of evolution led to this many car crashes, wet feet and groans about a bit of weather. It’s good for you. It’s bracing. Go and play in it.

Morning.
What a great day for fuzzy heads.
I’m a fuzzy head today. Are you a fuzzy head?
Last night I went to see the final night of The Bastard Children Of Remington Steele. Written by brilliant comedienne Sadie Hasler, it’s a dark and twisted comedy about a group of orphans who take on the belief the fictional Remington Steele is their father to assist one girl’s trauma at the loss of her own parents. 
It far exceeded my expectations, and really highlights what four people are capable of doing in the confines of a stage play. Everything flowed so incredibly swiftly, they dropped and picked up characters with natural ability, there were heartwarming moments, there were laughs.

This morning I am left with the slight hangover of a man coaxed into a cavern to drink red wine, and a desire to work. I would love to write something like that. It was very inspirational, intentionally or not and I have woken with a million thoughts I want to pursue. 
First, the book. Then the music. Then the play?