Posts Tagged 'Dustin'

Douze Pointe? That’s Just Fowl.

It’s almost that time of year again. The time of year when people of no evident talent from all over dress up like eejits and get their few minutes of fame on television, while people at home watching just laugh and laugh. No, not Celebrity Jigs & Reels. Something almost as tedious.

The freaking Eurovision Song Contest.

Every year I have to watch as the Late Late gets hi-jacked by a bunch of “musicians” appearing a few weeks before the contest so they can claim how they’re going to win and have a brilliant music career and all that shite.

If they actually won, then they might claim a hit out of it, or at the very least get some TV presenting work. Like Linda Martin. Although she had to do some other things for the bosses which I’m contractually bound not to tell anyone.

But it involved handcuffs, some whipped cream and a goose.

Anyway, we even have the non-national entrants appearing on the show to appease our multicultural society. So that’s why we had Poland’s Eurovision entrant on the show on Friday. Isis Gee is her name. Yes, yes I know. Gee is a slang for a lady’s front-bottom. I would be making jokes, only we’re sending a turkey as our entrant.

Oh Dustin, Dustin, Dustin. My mortal enemy. I hope the Serbians eat him alive. He’s the cheekiest turkey to ever exist. Dustin once claimed that he’d take over the show after me.

Never! It’s my show rightfully! I’m going into cryogenics as soon as something bad happens to me. I have it all planned out. Every Friday I can be thawed out for three hours to present the show.

It’s a bit extreme, yes, but I wouldn’t be the first TV personality to use modern science to keep in the business. Like Anne Doyle (Botox) or Joe Duffy (Calf implants). Even Mike Murphy is part robot. He only left Winning Streak because Derek Mooney unplugged his batteries.

Now Mike just remains motionless in a store-room at RTE headquarters, gathering dust. Poor guy.


“And Then I Asked: Do You Keep it in a Jar?”

Friday night’s show was interesting to say the least.

First we had the guy who became a woman. I know, a woman! Isn’t technology amazing nowadays?

He/She was telling his/her courageous story about how he/she overcame adversity and abuse from ignorant people throughout his/her life. Until I cut in with the question we were all thinking. Did he/she get the balls snipped off?

I suppose that was a moot question for me. I already knew. You see, I have hidden cameras attached to the RTE toilet ceilings.

Don’t judge me. Those babies pay for themselves. I can see what all the celebrities get up to in there, from the safety of my secret office. You wouldn’t believe how easy I was able to blackmail Glenda Gilson last year. She didn’t want anyone to see that incident where she got explosive diarrhoea. Which is how she ended up doing that Celebrity Skating thing.

You wouldn’t believe what we caught John Waters doing in the jacks for him to end up on the show.

Anyway, after we had the guy/girl on, I had a man and his wife on who had moved to Thailand, talking about the sex industry there. I wasn’t paying much attention. I was fiddling about with my laptop underneath the desk trying to book tickets to Bangkok for the summer.

Ironically,the laptop slipped off my lap and i ended up Banging my Little Pat, as it were.

I eventually recovered and came to my senses by the time we had the Eurosong contestants on. In a word, they were absolutely hopeless. It appears my campaign to send Spiral from Big Brother over there is dead in the water.

Even worse is me having to introduce one of my arch-nemeses.

Dustin the Turkey. I hate him so much. And his attempts to upstage me at every opportunity. The pair of us have a long-standing rivalry. Ever since the time I told him Bosco was better than him.

I went to find Dustin backstage and to confront him about how he always mocks me. Ended up finding him hiding in a suitcase. I berated him for a whole hour. But he just gave me the silent treatment.

That Feathered Bastard.

July 2019
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