Curry Chips

Last Tuesday morning, I awoke to a faint popping noise. Since I'd been having one of my favourite dreams (the one where I send hundreds of ad agency "creatives" up in hot-air balloons and have at them with a blunderbuss), I didn't think it particularly odd.

It was then that I opened my eyes to behold a number of green bubbles floating above my head. Two sneezes confirmed my initial diagnosis; I had flu! Please note that men get flu; women get colds. Ever see a woman in a lemsip ad? No. No room for them with all the high-powered executive menfolk throwing back gallons of hot lemony goodness so the merger doesn't go down the pan.

So it was a day in a musty bathrobe with daytime TV for me! How thrilling. A quick phonecall informed Jed and the boys that they'd be one shit-shoveller short on the slurry job, and that was it! I staggered downstairs and turned on the TV with high hopes. Yes, I am a moron.

Ah, Valentine's day. That special time of year when love is in the air.

Unless you're from Offaly, as we can see from another sauce-filled "Liveline" transcript....

Joe: "...so in case you're just joining us, I have Cyril Fox on the line to defend his dating agency. Cyril, can I get the name of your business again?"
Cyril: "Sure Joe. It's 'See Hollywood in Tullamore'."
Joe: "Not one for abbreviation then."
Cyril: "Hah? You can add 'Enterprises' to the end if you like."
Joe: "That....doesn't help. Anyway, we have Brendan on line 1, hello Brendan."
Brendan: "Howya Joe. I'm glad you've given me the chance to set the record straight about this scheister. I signed up with himself, handed over me few bob and he was fierce enthusiastic straight away. Said he had this girl on the books who was like a model and that he'd fix the two of us up fairly pronto. So I pulled on me best suit, old spice behind the ears, hair oil, the works. Only to turn up at her house and find she had only the one leg."

Willum Connors: "You're watching KOWPAT where it's time to take a look back at the highlights from this week's daytime TV which is of course dominated by Helena Hegarty and her 'What We Wimmin Want' show.

Monday saw Helena realise a long-held ambition to get hunky Jean-Christophe Novelli into the studio. Would he manage to serve up something even dishier than himself or..."
[Willum throws down his notes and looks off-camera]
Willum: "Lads, who put that in? 'Dishier than himself'? That's just shit. Look, just play the clip while I calm down."

Where will these devilish tricksters stop? They're now using highly advanced techniques based on the power of suggestion to diddle their victims.

From today's Irish Independent:

GARDAI have warned the public to ignore a fraudulent email informing recipients that they have won a lotto prize.

They received e-mails, disguised as official Irish National Lottery communications, last Friday claiming they had won €218,086 and asking for personal details so the money could be lodged into their bank accounts. But instead of money going in, the tricksters are using the information to access the accounts and steal cash from them.

[the phone rings in Mick's house]
Mick: "Hello?"

Yet again we find a distasteful show of strength from the security staff at a discount superstore.

OUTRAGE AS SCANDINAVIAN DEATH METALLER IS EJECTED FROM DISCOUNT STORE
Skrogg Funkelstijjiln used to buy his weekly tub of industrial throat grout from Tesco until he realised he could make a saving of 26% at the Aldi store in his adopted home of Colwyn Bay, North Wales.
Funkelstijjiln is lead vocalist with "Der Pantijie Hosen", who became famous when their death metal version of Vivaldi's "Four Seasons" sold several dozen copies in Finland in early 2002.
He says he was quite happy to buy the grout in Aldi until that fateful day when...

I do apologise. This is a clerical error. The story which actually applies to this photo is below.

Hollywood megastar Tommy Lee Jones is said to be "outraged" following his recent ejection from a Dublin venue.

Jones told Snackbox Diaries that he was in the middle of the wrap party for "Dolores" (the Neil Jordan-directed Dolores Keane biopic in which he stars), when the real Dolores Keane turned up.