Archive for the 'Uncategorized' Category

World Exclusive: Super Special Guests For Friday Night!

This Friday, Bertie Ahern himself will be on the show to tell the nation how he’s going to achieve the ultimate goal in politics:

Bartending in the Dail Bar.

Then, after that, my neighbour and I will settle our courtroom squabbles over that plot of land in Dalkey.

By mud-wrestling live on the studio floor.

This will be followed by Colin Farrell announcing he’s going to become a priest.

He’ll be Pope yet!

Afterwards, Jack Charlton will be making a guest appearance to announce he’s taking over as Irish Rugby manager.

And finally, to cap off this great show, U2 will perform what will be their last performance together,before they split up.
(Bono is going to work in McDonalds on O’Connell Street.)

Hahahahahaha. I’m only joking.


April Fool!









Wait, what day is it today?



Crap!

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The Legend Of St. Pat.

Welcome one and all to a very special post.

Today is a national holiday in Ireland. St. Patrick’s Day. One of many days dedicated to yours truly.

My Outfit for Today.

Don’t I look spiffing in my celebratory garments?

Now, since it’s such a very special day, I’m going to regale you all with a story:

 


“The Legend of St. Pat”

(dum-dum-dummm)

Pat was born in Dublin 4 in 1948 AD. When he was 14 years old, a man named Niall of the Forty Coats captured him. He took him to Cavan, where Pat was sold as a slave to a farmer named Murphy. By day, Pat minded sheep and pigs on a hill in Ballyjamesduff. By night, he prayed to the gods of RTE, for some way out of his farming life.

Then one night he heard a voice in his head. It was the voice of Gay Byrne. He was telling Pat that he had to escape and that the people of Ireland needed him. Pat thought he was dreaming but Gay told him “No gobsheen, you’re not dreaming. There’s a bus waiting in Cavan town that’ll take you to where you need to be. Now get going, ya fecking sparrowfart!” The next day, Pat ran all the way to the bus depot. He hid inside the luggage compartment. 6 days later, he made it back to Dublin.

Pat wasn’t there long when again he heard the Voice of Gay. The Voice told him to go to Donnybrook to tell the RTE staff all about his vision of a new way of TV presenting. Pat realised then that his calling in life was to be a television presenter. It wasn’t going to be easy. Pat went to University College Dublin to start his training. Many years later, he was awarded his degree in Chemical Engineering.

Ah Feckit!” said Pat. “I signed up for the wrong course!”

Many more years later, after receiving proper training, Pat and some followers went to Slane. One of the main bands playing were The Chieftains. Pat and his followers decided to light a fire when it got dark. This greatly angered The Chieftains, who wanted to light a fire first. (Traditionally, concertgoers would huddle around a fire and pass round their smuggled bottles of poitin, and a great hooley would be held.) The Chieftains demanded that the leader of this insolent gang be brought before them for questioning.

Pat began to speak before the backstage VIPs. He explained about how he had a dream that he was supposed to be a TV presenter on RTE. “I was told that the people of Ireland needed me in their presenting lives. I need to be part of the Trinity – Television, Radio and, if I have time, you can let me write for the RTE Guide.

The Director General, Aonghus McAnally, overheard this speech and was impressed. Pat was given a job presenting current affairs on the TV show “Tonight Tonight, Today, The Day Today, Tonight”. Pat continued to present news to all those who listened in Ireland. But this wasn’t watched by many people. Pat needed to spread his messages to the entire nation.

Pat’s path towards presenting took a larger step when he presented the 1988 Eurovision Song Contest. When Celine Dion came on stage with her snake-like dancing, Pat grabbed a wooden stick and drove Celine out of Ireland, never to return.

This further impressed the people of Ireland. Pat was awarded a presenting job on the show “Kenny Live”. Here he was able to further hone his skills as a presenter.

Then in 1999, The Voice of Gay spoke to him again. “Right ya fecking eejit. I’m getting too old for this shite. You can take this job and do what ya like with it. I’m off to work in the Government.” As Gay left the show on his golden Harley Davidson motorcycle, Pat took over as the lead TV presenter in Ireland.

And to this day, Pat continues his work delivering news and interviews to all the people around Ireland. His feast day is celebrated every Friday night (from September to May) at 9.30pm.

People across the country now commemorate this special event by wearing a small piece of mahogany on their person, or by huddling around the television with the family, as they all chant the same hallowed mantra in unison:






Jaysus, that Pat’s an awful Bollix.


“Marriage isn’t a word. It’s a sentence.”

Sorry i haven’t posted in a while. I was helping Gerry Ryan pack up his stuff for moving out into his swanky new bachelor pad. He recently split with his wife Morah after 26 years of marriage. I know what you’re thinking, and yes that is her real name, and yes Gerry actually did it with a woman.

You should see the new place now. It’s super cool. He has a water slide, and a Playstation, and a toaster, and everything. It’s so cool, I’d almost leave me own wife. Except she has my money buried somewhere. Oh and because I love her. (If you’re reading this, Hi sweetie!)

It’s sad that Gerry’s splitting with his wife. He tells me his missus wanted him out since he was only half a man now since the incident.

For those that don’t know, Gerry got a vasectomy a few years ago. I say vasectomy – close enough to one. Let it be a lesson to all: don’t steal the last donut from under Charlie Bird’s nose. He’ll rip you to pieces for his fix of jam.

Anyway Gerry told me how, after a night on the beer, he drunkenly hopped into the bed the other night and told Morah he couldn’t get it up unless he thought of someone he really fancied, like himself.

Not the smartest of moves. Ah well, life goes on. I think it was the great Irish rock n’roll band, B*Witched , who once said: “C’est La Vie”.

They also said “Don’t Blame it on the Weatherman”. That’s why he shouldn’t get angry when he finds out she’s shacked up with Martin King.

Is This Not Just Brilliant?

Beauty

I’m going to use it to hypnotise people.

“You want to watch my tv show..”

IFTA: I’m Fecked. Thanks Alcohol.

I have such a sore head today after the IFTA’s there last night. As they say “I’d rather be hanging over a nurse than be nursing a hangover”.

Word of advice to all: If Anne Doyle ever offers you a drink from her flask, just say no. You could strip paint with what she drinks.

Me, her and Gerry Ryan ended up fighting with the table next to us, and heckling some of the people on stage.

At least they edited the bits where myself and Gerry started a “Take It Off!” chant for Kathryn Thomas. Or when I threw my plate of chips at Daniel Day-Lewis.

Thank God for time-delayed live shows. Without them, I’d be up the creek without a paddle.

Anyhow, after the show, the three of us went out on a massive pub crawl. Guess who we met trying to get into Renards Night Club later? Only Diarmuid Gavin. Mr fancy-pants gardener himself. He got turned away for not having his ID. Ha-ha.

The rest of the night is pretty much a mixed blur after that. There may have been an incident where Gerry Ryan stole a goat (Where from, I have no idea), but I wasn’t there at the time. I was busy hiding in a dustbin from Daniel Day-Lewis. When he went home, the three of us (And the goat) kept partying throughout the night.

I ended up finding myself in a shopping trolley at 9am this morning outside the RTE studios. And me wearing nothing but a polythene bag and a jester’s hat.

Which is at least better than what happened to Anne. She’s currently trying to get off the fishing boat that’s heading towards Portugal.

Don’t expect her to be presenting the news tonight.

So.Who.Am I?

Well. That is a very good question. Let me fill you in with one of those bullet point list questionnaires. Like the many ones that are seen on Bebop,MyPlaice, or Facehook.

— Name: Pat Methuselah Kenny.

— Birth date: January 29 1948. Yes. I am a healthy six decades old. (Botox and tummy tucks,people. They’re brilliant.)

— Address: Dublin. I’m not saying any more, as i don’t want any stalkers around my mansion in Dalkey.

— Family: I was briefly married in 1969 to Dana. But that was annulled when she ran over me in our Mercedes. I met my present wife, Patricia, in 1971, and we’ve been married ever since. I have 3 wonderful kids. And 2 not so wonderful. Yup, 5 kids. I’m such a stud, aren’t i?

— Job: Currently i work in RTE. Well, i say work. Really, i down 3 shots of sambuca and someone switches on a microphone. It seems to work out well. Except for that time I stripped bollock-naked in the studio in the middle of a show. And me, just about to interview Cecilia Ahern. Luckily, I put a pair of jocks on and she said nothing.

If only it had been the radio show and not the Late Late….

–Hobbies:
Writing my blog, duh.

I’m a big music fan. I love all kinds of music that my researchers tell me to play. I especially like those up-and-coming Irish bands like The Lorentos and Bell Eleven.

I’m also a sporty guy. I like to go kickboxing every now and again. You don’t want to back me in a corner, let me tell you. I’ll come at you like a spider-monkey.

I’m also a great runner. I can run 100 metres in less than 15 seconds. Which is helpful when i leave a burning bag of dog poo at Eamon Dunphy’s house and then ring the doorbell. You aught to see it. He falls for it every time!

–What do I Look Like? Well:

ME!.

I am the sex.

Good Evening and Welcome.

I have a terrific blog for you now tonight. From my own life, we have various things that happened to me. From the news that’s going on right now, we have my musings on that. And from “You’re a Star” we have an interview with Linda Martin & Brendan O Connor.

But first, a competition.

To win a free voicemail greeting from yours truly, just answer this question.

What did that guy who invaded the Late Late show call me?

A) An Insufferable Arsehole

B) Plank

C) Jerry Seinfield.

Text the word TODAY followed by your answer to 51551.

Or alternatively give me some money. They don’t pay enough at RTE. I mean, really. How is someone supposed to live on 900k a year in Celtic Tiger Dublin? That’s peanuts.


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