Archive for the 'Late Late Review' Category

Her Jiggling is Almost Hypnotic…

So, only a few hours after my eyesight come back (thanks for nothing Twink), the powers that be booked none other than that harpy Katherine Lynch to come back on the show.She offends practically all of my five senses. Especially the hearing. I’m partially deaf now, thanks to her voice.

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.

Advertisements

Update…

I know i haven’t posted lately. I’m just busy testing out that software that allows you to speak into a microphone and it comes up on the screen. I’m actually temporarily blind since 2 weeks ago.

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?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

I’m still laughing from the incident that happened on Friday. No, not when Trinny & Susannah were touching up some audience members. We had that rapscallion Jimmy Carr on the show doing his comedic routine. (Viewable here: http://www.rte.ie/tv/latelate/ )

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.

Now, That’s How You Start A New Series!

I’m anticipating a heap of complaints over the opening episode of the Late Late. Not due to the skit we did with the ushers singing with mock-Italian accents but rather because of that Magick Macabre lot.

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.

Here Comes The Summer!

Apologies for the delay since the last post. It’s just that I was so geared up about finishing the Late Late show for the summer that I wasn’t able to think straight for the week coming up to the finale. The show organizers didn’t make it easy for me. How is any man supposed to talk to Amanda Brunker, without closing their ears and staring at her chest? It’s damn near impossible!

So then the second I finished, I headed on the next plane out of the country to go on my holidays. Thailand is great, by the way. You can get away we nearly anything out there. It was only for that incident involving myself and the national football team streaking through the streets that led to my deportation.

So yes, I’m free for the summer now. But I don’t really know what to do with myself. I mean, there’s the radio show to be done, but no-one really cares about that. Plus I pre-record the show 4 or 5 months in advance. And nobody’s the wiser about it. Except for the time I discussed the results of the May General Election and what it meant for Ireland. In October.

I put in a pitch to the Director General of RTE for a new reality show to show while I’m off the TV. I think he’s going to go for it. I’ll be filming next month, and then it should hopefully go to air in the early autumn. The plan is for myself, the wife and our kids to head across the country in a camper van. We’re also arranging that each week there’ll be a special celebrity housemate with us. It’ll be tremendous fun.

We still have to come up with a title for it though. They told me I can’t have a show called “Pat Kenny’s Land”.

Who Doesn’t Love All Things Theatrical?

We had the quite theatrical Senator David Norris on the show there on Friday. He’s always tremendous fun when telling his stories. But he sure gets angry when you ask about his cousin, Chuck Norris. But if you were related to someone who could cure cancer with his tears (if only he cried), then you’d feel insignificant too.

Everyone seems to love Dave though, especially the women. It’s a wonder the guy never settled down and got married to a nice young lady. But he says he loves being “a swinging bachelor”.

For some reason, he made a joke out of that. I don’t know why.

Speaking of confused, I was as confused as a baby at a topless bar when we had a guest on who looked the spitting image of Biddy from Glenroe. For those that don’t know, Glenroe was a documentary broadcast in the 1990’s about the life of a farming community.

I always thought it was cruel that when Biddy crashed her car into a tractor and died that the camera crew didn’t go and help her. But I guess they didn’t for authenticity and that.

So this look-alike and some other women were on the show promoting how they were appearing in The Vagina Monologues. I haven’t been to see it yet, but I imagine it involves some impressive ventriloquist skills.

It’s great that there are so many artistic plays and thing like that in Ireland. I wish I could get up on stage and act in a play again. But I’ve been blacklisted since my last theatre show was such a complete disaster.

It was last December when I was performing my stage show in the Olympia Theatre in Dublin. A one-man musical version of Pulp Fiction. Unfortunately, the theatre was double booked. And nobody told me.

Which led to the sight of me, covered in shoe polish and shouting, “English Motherfucker, do you speak it?” like Samuel Jackson.

During the ballroom scene of a pantomime version of Cinderella.

The poor kids didn’t know what to make of it. Especially during the scene with the gimp.

Hungry For Some Gift Grub.

One of my favourite segments on the Late Late Show is when we have a celebrity chef on to cook some food for us. Last Friday, we had Jamie Oliver on the show cooking me some pasta. It was a lot more than when Ainsley Harriott was on a few weeks ago. All he did was help judge a fashion show.

Modelling doesn’t put food on the table! And even if it did, the models probably wouldn’t eat it. All the while, I’m still hungry.

It is great anyhow to have a chef on the show like that. It means I can finally get a good meal. That RTE canteen only ever serves me soup. And the missus at home isn’t the best cook in the world either. Like that time she tried making Beef Wellington, with an actual boot. I still wonder about what was in that Shepherd’s pie she once made.

Don’t get me wrong; we’re both terrible cooks. Last time I tried cooking a slice of toast, I burned our bathroom. Long story, don’t ask.

You’d think she’d have time to learn to cook though. All she does is stay at home and watch TV or listen to yours truly on the radio. Speaking of the radio, that guy who does the celebrity voices on Today FM’s Gift Grub programme was on the show too. (Excellent link, eh?)

“Super” Mario Woodstock is the guy. He’s trying to milk the last drops out of being able to “impersonate” Bertie Ahern. The saddest part is, the guy actually has a split personality. He thinks he is each one of the people that he does a voice of. The people at Today FM just lock him in a small dark room all day, and record his mad ramblings as he talks to himself.

Good thing they don’t do the same with us RTE people. We’re allowed out of the room at lunchtime.