Curry Chips

Last Friday night as I reclined in my sofa after a hard day spent throwing stones at passing traffic, I decided to activate my television set so as to be entertained by the wide variety of programming available on my four channels while I gnawed on a side of ham.

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TG4 had "The grey poncho", starring Henry Fonda. A classic western where a gang of thugs plague the small town of Arid Scrote, leaving the people with only one hope - that horseshoe-slinger Clay Bucket will somehow save them.

Much better telly was to be found the following night on RTE; highly successful series "The Restaurant" was on. Each week a celebrity is invited to take charge in the kitchen and prepare a menu for the delectation of two resident critics (Tom Doorley and Paulo Tullio), a guest critic and select members of the public.

Narrator: "Tonight, the Restaurant is proud to present guest chef Roger Moore! Roger promises to dish up a feast for the senses....but not 'For your eyes only' ha ha ha. Christ, who writes this shit?"

While picking my steps through Dublin city centre recently, I happened upon this wonderful example of free expression.

I initially thought it was the work of a pair of young lovers; he was so eager to know if their recent knee-trembler had been any good that he scrawled "DECIDE" (we'll excuse the extra "I" as he was probably trying to reholster his cocktail sausage and scribble at the same time).

[Scene: A derelict bedsit. Grampa Joe Bird has waited all night for young Charlie to fall asleep while watching "Prime time" before attempting to snaffle his kit-kat. He carefully peels back the wrapper before spotting something inside the foil]

Grampa: "Wake up Charlie! Wake up! While you was asleep, I opened your kit-kat and you only won a ticket to Willie's Chucklehead Factory! Are yuh excited Charlie?"
Charlie: "At this time, I can report that 'elated' would be a fitting description. Charlie Bird, bedsit news."
Grampa [tousling Charlie's hair]: "Y'know Charlie, I really oughta take you out more."

There's a time and place for fun and games.......

....but this obviously isn't it!

Bookmakers to face court over radon testing

The background here is that Paddy Power (an Irish bookmakers) recently ran a series of "controversial" poster ads, one of which had the boyos at the last supper enjoying a spot of gambling!
Well cover me in sherry and five-spice and marinade me for an hour, I almost had a stroke. Those Paddy Power boys! So creative and full of derring-do!
The poor dears were forced to pull the ad when the Irish public unsurprisingly objected to even more cheap publicity being foisted upon them, so Paddy Power replaced the offending posters with "There's a time and place for fun and games, but this obviously isn't it!".

Yes indeedy, it's time for another transcript of laugh-a-minute arts review show “The View”, hosted by John Kelly on RTE. For those who have never had the pleasure, RTE is one of Ireland's many (i.e. 4) indigenous channels.

J.Kelly: “Hullo and welcome to tonight’s episode of The View, where we decide if it’s art or plain old arse. Tonight’s guests include Sam Smyth from the Independent, John Waters from the Times and Miranda Felchbucket from the Tribune. You’re all welcome.”
Sam: “Aaaaa….”
J.Kelly: “Not yet Sam. Now, on last week’s show we probed Yeats and Joyce, so tonight it is only fitting that we address Kavanagh; a man of immense talent and depth who was initially misunderstood but is now appreciated by a growing audience worldwide.”
Sam: “Aaaaa…’Stony grey soil’ is indeed…a moving-“
J.Kelly: “That’s Patrick Kavanagh. We’re discussing Richie.”
Sam [incredulously] : “Richie Kavanagh?”
J.Kelly: “Indeed. Watch this.”

Wednesday's METRO covered the "virtual funeral" that was held in World of Warcraft in remembrance of some mad Chinese lass who kicked the bucket after playing hacky-slashy non-stop for 284 days.

Yes indeedy, lots of brave warriors, wart-addled trolls and busty maidens got together at a designated location to hold the "crouch" button and listen to some gleeb type a few choice words; "Bye Bye LumpHammer Lou, we'll miss you. Hope you remember to eat a sandwich and have a glass of pop in the next world".

Yes, SHERGARA came under the spotlight in a recent "Liveline" programme. For those lucky souls who remain blissfully unaware of Liveline's existence, it's a lunchtime phone-in show on RTE radio one which tends to attract callers from the following groups:

• Those who live too close to pylons
• Those who were dropped when they were young, picked up and dropped again
• Those who wish to share the fruits of their senseofhumourectomy with the rest of the country

Joe Duffy is the master of ceremonies, and obviously gets a bizarre kick out of fielding calls from these lunatics. Anyway! On with the show.....

Yeehaw! More hi-jinks on Liveline after the Irish minister for defence appeared on the front of the Irish Times pointing a gun at the cameraman. Some folk would say that posing for such a photo in light of the recent spate of gangland killings is unwise; however, they're not the headbangers who ring Joe Duffy!

Here's a small sample of today's callers:

[Scene: The top deck of the 77, en route from Dublin city centre to Tallaght. Anto and Bodger are sitting three seats from the back]
Anto: "So anyways, the Corsa was makin' this weird clankin' noise whenever I turned a corner. Drivin' me nuts, jeknoworrimean? Checked the spoiler was glued on proper, checked the speakers in the back wasn't loose, couldn't figure it out."
Bodger: "So watcher dew?"
Anto: "Bought bigger fookin' speakers and played fiddy cent up mega loud. That way I couldn't hear the clankin' no more."
Bodger: "Class fookin' idea man."
[the bus pulls in to a stop]
Bodger: "Ah shite!"
Anto: "Worrizeh?"
Bodger: "Ah man look what's gettin' on."
[Anto strains to look out the window]
Anto: "Ah jaysus."

Yes indeedy, it's time for yet another roundup of yet another night with the goggle-box that leaves you tearing the house asunder for your cyanide pills.

TG4 had "Amu san East end", where ebullient ants-in-his-pants presenter Hector O'Heochagain joined the cast of "Eastenders" for a night.
Hector: "YO. Here I am-" [does rapper-style hand moves] "-IN the east end, WITH the Eastenders. And the FIRST-" [still flicking] "-person I'm gonna meet is landlady Peggy Mitchell, otherwise known as Babs Windsor."
Babs: "Allow dawlin and wewcome teh the Queen Vic!"
Hector: "Charmed Babs, charmed. Now. Tell us about that time you were exercising in that 'Carry On' film and you stretched so much that the bra burst and your norks flapped out."

[One of the boyfriends from the Meteor advert sits in the interview room; Detective Elliot Stabler enters]
Stabler: "Soooo....whaddya we have here? A nice young Irish boy who decides to [glances at rapsheet] drop a bowling ball on his girlfriend Fiona's head. Nice work."
Billy: "Lissen here now, it wasn't my fault. She drove me to it."
Stabler: "Sure she did, tough guy." [pulling up a chair] "Why don't you tell me all about it."
Billy: "Well, it all started around November. Meself and Freddy were sitting on the couch in my place, waiting for the girls to come back from another shopping expedition. Not doin' much, just fiddling with the odd Christmas decoration, y'know. So next thing they arrive home and say that because it's Christmas, they're gonna do a lapdance for us!"

Time for a snippet from the most successful show on Kerry Open Wavelength Public Access Television, "Late evening with Willum Connors". Take it away there Willum.....

Willum: "So yet again on the Willum Connors show, we find ourselves strapped in and ball-gagged for another foray into the movie-world with Jeremy Dungscuttle. Welcome to the show again Jeremy."
Jeremy: "Thanks Willum. Well it's been another bulging week for cinema releases in Kerry with some cracking stuff being shown at the Omniplex. We start with 'The demonic possession of Caramelly Rose', a fairly disturbing film about the inhumanity and savagery that man is capable of when he finds himself brawling for the last decent chocolate in the big Christmas tin. In this clip, we have Jimbob and his father Mossy sitting by the fire after turkey with all the trimmings and several skinfuls of Mossy's homemade creme de menthe".