I came here to hear the crowd say...

Regular readers of this blog (aka: myself. I'm my biggest fan) will know that most of the excitement that happens in my life only really exists in my dreams. My dreams are where I am at my most adventurous, my most outgoing and at my most likely to pull a ridiculously attractive girl way out of my league. In stark contrast, my reality is where I sit and write all day, don't really know enough people to class myself as outgoing and regularly receive the 'Let's just be friends' card from girls a plenty, and sometimes even guys when they get the wrong impression. (Note: 'a plenty' may be an overstatement, due to the fact I'm not really that outgoing.)

So it will come as no surprise that this too is an account of something that didn't really happen. If you're a fan of realism this is not the place for you. If, however, you're a fan of MAGIC you should stick around.

The scene: I am a DJ in a bar full of work experience students.

This is very much not like the real world. I listen to music, but that's the end of the similarities, really. In my head I was blowing peoples' minds. I was probably the best DJ to have ever graced the earth, it was pretty impressive. Everyone was like 'Oh Ash. You're really good at this music thing.'

But then I suddenly forgot how to do anything. Suddenly my dream DJ-ing abilities matches my real life DJ-ing abilities, and this was rubbish because in real life my DJ-ing abilities don't exist. What had been a sea of happy, bouncing work experience students (I don't know why they were work experience students) turned into a sea of unhappy, angry looking work experience students who wanted an explanation as to why [insert good music here] had stopped and been replaced with [insert rubbish music here.] One of them even had the nerve to come up on stage with me and say, and I quote,

'I am a work experience student. I was hoping you could teach me how to DJ.'

Well I can't. I don't know how. This is a dream and it's all gone wrong for me and I have no idea how to respond to your work experience requests.

When I woke up I felt pretty awful because I'd let all these party goers down, even if they may not have been of legal age to be going to parties, and I had an overwhelming urge to make it up to them. Tonight I'm going back in my head to learn how.

There might...MIGHT be a moral to this story. I'm not sure what it is yet, but I'm going to have a bash at it being something along the lines of me thinking I have everything under control and then it SPIRALING HORRIBLE INTO DESPAIR.

It could be something better than that.

But you just don't know. Despair seems dramatic, and I like drama, so let's go with that.

Taz would eat the music, then spit out lyrics.