Posts Tagged 'Gimp'

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.

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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.