I just managed to slip away from rehearsals for tonight to type up a short post for the blog.

It’s been a dodgy week, since that one told me to basically shove my prize tickets up my arse.

Ungrateful cow.

Just so you all know, i ripped up her cheque too and sent that on to her. Let’s see how much she like that.

Tonights going to be a big night. We have lots of kids from schools in Dublin coming on to sing songs and dance and things. And maybe we’ll have a toy or two. I’ll finally make those people realise I’m better than Gay Bryne ever was.

I’m psyched for this show. It can’t go worse than last year with Jerry Seinfield.

Or can it?

Tune in to find out!

Still, it wasn’t the worst thing to be on the show. (Top 5 though.) At least she raised money for charity or something by jumping up and down on a treadmill. Like most males, I was too busy staring at something else to pay attention.

My watch, to see if she’d be on for much longer.

Ba-dum-tish!

There was something else about the whole thing that didn’t sit well with me.

Why the hell did we have famous runner Sonia O’Sullivan on, only for her not to run for charity?

I mean, I know she’s retired, but then so is Brian Kerr, and he had no problem running. More or less. During the break, he fell and smashed his face on the the treadmill.

It was hilarious. I’ll post the video on Youtube sometime.

The sight of Twink modelling lingerie. Ugh. We actually had to put special filters on the tv broadcast so it wouldn’t offend the tv viewers.

Pity we couldn’t save the studio audience.

Normal service should resume shortly.

Bye!

How do i close this thing now. Burp.

Here, someone shut this thing down for me.

Where’s my walking stick? I’m going for a pint.

I don’t know, i’ll be back when you see me.

Ok, i promise I’ll go easy on the absinthe.

Is that thing off yet?

To be honest, I didn’t find it that funny. Nor did I find his suggestion that we’d talk about my land and legal problems funny either. (I’ve done enough of that on here.) It was the whole joke over us giving an “Austrian Family holiday” to a single guy that made me break my cool.

It wasn’t so much the image of sending someone off on an all-expenses trip to Josef Fritzl’s basement that had me in stitches. Rather it was the image of Jimmy Carr and Michael Gambon going on the skiing holiday with the winner. I’ve seen Gambon drive a car on the show Top Gear. I’d hate to think what he’d be like driving a pair of skis off a mountain.

I’m finding it hard to even type this blog post up thinking of the incident. It was a good thing that the producers on the show cut the live feed and my microphone when they did. It means no-one saw the bit where I fell out of my chair (and peed a little) from the laughter.

Even though I was grateful for the crew cutting when they did, somebody’s head will roll for this episode. I got set up really bad with the phrasing of that prize. They better not mess up with this Friday’s competition: A holiday in Portugal.

You can bring the kids, but there mightn’t be much for them to do. The hotel rooms are fun to stay in anyway.

For those that aren’t as informed as myself, they’re a group of magicians known for doing all sorts of freaky shit. They obviously had to tone it down for TV, but somehow I think the older viewers still might get offended by seeing a leather-clad gimp pass through the stomach of a big beardy man. They ought to see Gerry Ryan’s bachelor pad on a Wednesday night. That would really put the fear into you.

The thing is, I do owe those magicians a great deal. I managed to get myself into a great deal of trouble during the show and they helped me hide in one of their magic box things.

“But Pat, you’re loved by everyone! How did you get in trouble?” I hear you ponder. Well some of my guests took offence at what I said to them. First off, I accidentally insulted the Olympic Medal-winning boxers. I merely suggested to one of them that he should move out of his mother’s house now that he’s more famous. I DID NOT IMPLY HE WAS A MOMMA’S BOY!

If that wasn’t bad enough, I then made an ill-advised crack about the other boxer joining Weight Watchers after he takes a break from training. I WAS NOT CALLING HIM A FAT LOAD!

Speaking of moody people who should join Weight Watchers, we then had the Taoiseach Brian Cowen make an appearance. After grilling him about the economy and the usual “You Screwed Us Over, Cowen” type questions, I made a mistake of suggesting that he’d be back on later to sing like Pavarotti. He didn’t like that comparison. I was just joking. It’s not like I expected him back at the end in a dress so I could do the “Not over until the fat lady sings” joke.

I went for the hat-trick of ballsing things up then with the Riverdancing crowd. I meant to give the girl in the dance a peck on the cheek to say hello. But she ducked and I connected with the dude. He wasn’t happy. And that guy sure can kick hard.

So anyhow, later on in the show I had to hide due to Cowen, the boxers and the dancer all coming after me, looking to give me a beating. But thanks to those magicians I was able to hide until the guests had to leave. Disaster averted.

Thing is, I’m a little pissed off as it meant that I didn’t get to do my bit in the group finale performance of Bohemian Rhapsody. I was planning to do a guitar solo surrounded by fireworks and everything.

That’s me in rehearsals before the show. Yes. It’s a real tiger. It would have been an amazing spectacle.

Instead, I end up cramped in a box, while the tiger ended up biting the orchestra conductor in the arse.

Oh well. These things happen.

So anyhow, now that the national tour is done and dusted, we jetted on down the N3 road on the way home for a well-deserved rest.

Well, so I thought. For some inexplicable reason, the feckwits, I mean bosses, at RTE thought I should present The Late Late Show from Wexford Opera House. I should be angry that I’m kept outside Dublin for a bit longer, but on the other hand, I’m actually psyched for this. I’m flattered that they arranged such a grand venue for me to show off my vocal talents.

The last time I sung in public was when I was a little tipsy at Oxegen and got up to do karaoke in the VIP bar. Which was an amazing sight to see. I do an excellent 48-minute version of Bohemian Rhapsody. Falsetto voices, manic dancing, removal of shirts, head banging, and jumping kicks, I give it the full 110%. And the people in the crowd (that haven’t left by then) cheer like they’re insane.

Plus I’m going to be backed up by the RTE Concert Orchestra, which is mega wicked awesome. We’ve got every type of instrumentalist in that orchestra: a violinist, a cello player, a triangle player, and even a guy who can make noises with his armpits. Oh-ho, it’s going to be a good show. See you all there!

So just to bring people up to speed on how the last few weeks have went:

We went to Cork. It was ok. Couldn’t understand a word of what the people were saying.

We went to Longford. It was ok. Couldn’t understand a word of what the people were saying.

We went to Donegal. It was ok. Couldn’t understand a word of what the people were saying.

We went to Meath. It was ok. Couldn’t understand a word of what the people were saying.

Got some great footage for the reality show though. And some not so great, but we’ll be able to fix that in the editing room after. The editors at RTE can do anything. Like the time that guy burst on stage during one of the Friday shows. No-one watching knew anything odd happened.

Thing is, the whole celebrity roommate aspect to the show hit a snag. We ran out of celebrities who were willing to appear on the show. Everyone that didn’t have a shred of dignity were all appearing on the Failte Towers show.

So we were saddled with the only available celebrity: George Hook.

For the whole month. Feck. If I ever hear one more story from him about rugby or erectile dysfunction, I’ll cut my ears off. The producers have told me he’s booked for a show appearance in October, so we can reminisce about sharing a caravan for a month. Oh great…

Next week is the last week of the nationwide tour. I’ll be heading for my toughest challenge yet. Even tougher than the time I was dared to run through Limerick with a target sign on me.

Harsh weather. Lack of proper infrastructure. Possibly inbred folk. Chances are I may not make it out alive.

That’s right people; I’m going to Leitrim.

They don’t have Panini sandwiches there either.

I got to see so many amazing bands over the weekend. Especially front row for Rage Against The Machine. It was so much fun moshing away in the pit area there. Where else will you get a chance to smack some spotty teenagers in the face and get away with it? I mean, I’ve done it before, but still it’s more fun when I don’t have to pay people off afterwards.

There was so much more craic to have been had over in the campsites however. Thanks to paying off the security, I was able to drive the campervan right into the site. The people whose tent I crushed weren’t too pleased. Especially since they happened to have been in it at the time. Oops.

We also got into a bit of further trouble later on the Thursday evening. The wife had brought a 12 pack of cigarettes with her, but had forgotten to get a lighter. I ended up creating a makeshift blowtorch for her using the cooker and a can of deodorant. Unfortunately, it was too strong. Still, her eyebrows will eventually grow back, right?

My only complaint about the whole weekend was the weather. Sunday was a lovely warm day, but the Friday was so wet, that I had to stay stuck in the tents. Means I missed that Kings of Lion band. I really wanted to go and sing “Hakuna Matata”.

Instead I got that Cowboy singer guy Mundy, with his singing about girls from Galway. They’re not even remotely attractive!

Ah, well, I can always see them next year. Roll on Oxegen 2009!

So a new plan was formed: Oxegen Festival! We got tickets for it there off of a scalper. For real cheap too. Only a grand for the lot of us to get in. (This whole Irish recession thing is great!)

I can’t wait to see all the artists advertised for playing it. All my favourites are there. Like Rodge Against The Machine (An excellent one man band), or The Kings of Lion. I believe they are a musical tribute to the classic Disney film.

I hear from the kids that Oxegen is great. They have loads of stuff there, like tents and toilets and even a Wine House. It’s apparently owned by some girl named Amy. Can’t wait to go there for a quiet drink.

So, right now we’re just waiting outside the campsite, playing strip poker to pass the time. I keep winning. Or losing, depending on how you see things. The wife is the only female in the caravan, and I see her naked all the time. Not by my choice either.

Speaking of what’s hot and what’s not, I hope the weather’s going to be good for this. I only have all my beachwear with me, because I thought we were off to the beach. Still, I can get by in my sandals and shorts. It’s a music festival in the middle of July. It’s hardly going to rain, is it?

Till the next time: Rock “N” Roll. Dudes!

Seriously, what is there to do there? It’s ok going to places, and seeing local attractions, but that can be done in 2 days. The rest of the week just drags right on.

The lot of us ended up playing games to relieve our boredom. Like “Drink the Whiskey”. You get another one for winning. By lunchtime, we were pretty rat-arsed.

That’s when the cameraman explained that I had to go and interview a local group of locals. I ended up slurring my way through a talk on the town’s local history.

Even worse was that ginger gobshite dancing around behind the camera trying to get me to laugh. I burst out laughing just as I was told some emotional sob story. Not good. The whole day’s work had to be scrapped. Which set us back a bit.

I got my revenge on Hector though. We got him really drunk and dyed his hair black. That’ll teach him to mess with me. Then, for extra fun, I gagged his mouth and put a balaclava on him, before gluing toy guns to his hands. We then dumped him outside the local garda station.

He’s not going to be doing much travelling for a while…

So, on we went to the next destination to meet up with the newest celebrity guest.

We’re off to County Clare with the one and only Eddie “The Eagle” Hobbs. He’s going to show us how to go surfing at the seaside, while at the same time also teaching us about saving our money.

I think that’s it. He said something about floating interest rates anyway. I can’t wait!