Before I get going on this here’s a quick bonus for all guide-getters. I’ve been lucky enough to be given permission for you all to download Phil Stoodley’s latest album “Valiant Hum” for FREE, http://www.valianthum.com. The tracks are sweetly crafted rock ballads, along the lines of Coldplay and Travis. The heavier numbers remind me of Muse, and early Radiohead.

As I was saying; Saturday sycophants, Sunday drivers, moody Mondays, buzzy Tuesdays, sheepish Wednesdays, juicy Thursdays and lame Fridays. Let me explain what I mean as I run through how the past 7 days panned out for me.

I used to be a whizz kid with the spaceys but ever since controllers with more than 1 button became the norm I’ve left the craze alone (bring back Pac Man and Super Mario). So you can imagine how over the moon I was when I was introduced to the Playstation game Buzz last Tuesday night. It was my first time and now I’m a fan. It’s colourful, educational, humourous, interactive; so splendid when played over a few drinks with friends. My next Buzz night is firmly planned in my diary for Tuesday July 1st. Who’s interested in joining in?

Tuesday was doubly buzzy, as I went to a real estate presentation at Kellands Realty in Freemans Bay. There were pronounced moguls, MP’s and minor celebs in attendance. Nice nibbles and vivacious vino circulated as we gazed over the proposed multi-million (more like billion) dollar plans, and models, for the super styley Rhubarb Lane residential and commercial development, to be built behind Victoria Park Market. Doug Rickard-Bell’s (the Aussie developer) speil held me in a trance and I wanted in, then I wondered if it was the vino making this decision for me. It wasn’t, as the following week I found myslf asking my folks for aid so I could buy in.

Red Band gumboots are things I only wear when I visit my olds and help chop the wood, but I found a pair and blended into the thousands of moleskin and swandri garbed farmies weilding cattle prods at the annual Fieldays farming extravaganza at Mystery Creek, Hamilton. There was an astonishing amount of free stuff; not just the usual promo material that you’d expect but also clothing, food and alcohol. Before long the latter had me playing Bob The Builder at the John Deer stand, then a Dog Show contestant in the stockyards.

Mr Vintage is a solid supporter of this guide, and last Thursday head honcho Rob invited anyone into his Parnell showroom for drinks, chocolate afghans and to take advantage of the t’shirt sale. I chatted to fellow friends of Vintage, Brittany and Aaron from Juice TV, at length, and the outcome was a party-oriented TV show for me. Within 3 months (just in time for the wild summer parties) I’ll be racing around the best parties that Auckland has to offer, going crazy, interviewing overseas celebs and bringing the best bits to you each week in a half hour show. Elated and elevated I went to Huffer clothing HQ for their Yes King party, a party to welcome the UK musicians to town and prepare them for the following night’s show. A bath tub chilled the Red Bull, Jager, Becks and Good Water, while the main men from out of town showed the invited crowd why they are regarded as kings in the ragga and dancehall world.

The Paddington is a place I’d been to 2 years earlier, and on Friday evening I clicked as to why I’d left it so long to go back. There were drunken baffoons acting like cheerleaders, breaking glasses and forcfully disturbing the peace. They were finally escorted out, but the vibe remained dead, so I lassoed some ladies and partied it up at a Ponsonby house party. There were turntables and I couldn’t resist, I played for almost 3 hours as the others got intoxicated, one lass even insisted on licking the length of my jeans. There were few options (like most Fridays around town during the winter months), so we massed to Excess, at Met & Code.  The getfrank VIP area was more popular than the rest of the club; it must have been the complimentary vodka as the tunes were quite catchy. Needing sobriety BK was called upon.  It did a treat. We stood munching onion rings watching a busker. He sat reclined casually juggling a soccer ball with his feet a thousand times at will. The party plug was pulled early due to tumbleweed rolling across Queen St. There was nothing rocking.

Normally I can’t hold a grudge more than a day; one still lingers for the NZRFU but I watched the All Blacks v England game anyway. It was alright I guess, but I was more excited about where I was going afterwards. DDub played with international prowess at Galatos, Liam Finn had me captivated at The Powerstation, Karn Hall spun a sworded 5 hour set at Sponge Bar and DJ Shaveer gave away 500 shots at Coherent, as well as putting on a populated uplifting electro party called Word. I finished myself off with savage hard house at Space bar at the Born2Bang dance party, then meekly made my way home, heavily out of pocket from trying to please those who I am sure assume that I get drinks for free wherever I roam. I would love that to be the case.

Why do we drive with OTT caution on Sundays? Are we attempting to evade Monday longer somehow, maybe savour the pleasure of limited traffic congestion, or perhaps that Sunday roast puts us into a dreamy trance. I don’t know, but I do know it caused an accident resulting in injury last Sunday. Fortunately it occured outside the entrance to the North Shore Hospital, so help was just a stone’s throw away.

After an eventful weekend, Monday rolled around. Monday’s a day where I reflect upon opportunities missed (and taken), and where I realise that the next one’s a whopping 4 sleeps away.