The Late Late Plank Show
Grandad November 29th, 2008
As usual, there was fuck all in the way of good programmes on television last night.
You would imagine that with five hundred or so channels there would be something passable on, but there wasn’t.
Herself somehow managed to flick over to the Late Late Toy Show.
To those of you overseas who have missed this annual treat, maybe an explanation is needed?
The Late Late Toy Show is an orgy of commercialism directed at the toddlers of Ireland. They fill up one of RTE’s largest studios with toys, pack in an audience dressed tacky reindeer horns and Santa hats, and then let loose a pack of kids into the toys to let them play. The Master of Ceremonies for this mayhem is The Plank himself.
The biggest problem with this scenario is that apart from having the personality of a gravestone, The Plank hasn’t a clue how to interact with children. He has a couple of his own, and I dread to think what they will develop into. To The Plank, children are like tiny adults, to be ignored at all costs. They are an irritant, and worst of all, they have the potential to take the spotlight off Plank and his massive ego.
The programme started showing Plank doing something. It has to start showing Plank, just to reinforce the idea that the programme is about him, and the children and toys are just incidental.
I squirmed.
The children were brought on and the show started.
Straight away, Plank started interrupting the children any time they had anything to say. Plank knew there was a risk they might say something cute or funny that would outshine his efforts. Each child was dismissed like unfortunate candidates at an interview.
The toys were the usual collection of utter shite. They were all the kind of toy that would have an attention span of ten minutes and an horrific price tag. Every toy required batteries. Every toy had to talk, sing, walk or shit itself. Every doll or stuffed toy seemed to have enough computing power to land a man on the Moon.
I got drunk.
The Plank grabbed more and more screen time. The camera men obviously had orders to focus on the main even, which was Plank and not the children. All we saw was Plank grinning inanely into the camera as he showed off.
I threw an ashtray through the television screen.
Herself wasn’t too happy about that, but she should have known it would happen. It happens every year. She shouldn’t have switched it on.
At least this year I managed to restrain myself for a full twenty minutes.
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It’s been years since I’ve seen the Toy Show, and I only remembered being bored. I can watch my own kids break a better quality of toy at home, any day. WHY is this annual show such a big deal? Really, I’m asking, because for the life of me I can’t see any entertainment value or attraction…other than Everybody-Else-Is-Watching-So-I-Will-Too.
Or maybe it’s hoping another dolly will get booted in the bum, or that one of the robots will explode and put out P’s left eye.
???
Susan – I don’t know what the attraction of this programme is. You want to ask Herself. I think there is an element of tradition about it. I know the only reason I would watch it is to watch Plank make an arse of himself [or get seriously injured/embarrassed/compromised].
‘Tis a mystery.
I have great memories of the toy show from when I was a kid and I tune in every year in the hope that I’ll relive some of the memories.
Maybe I’m older or maybe it’s the fact that I can’t stand Kenny. I watched for a total of half an hour and even that was flicking back and forward between other shite.
I sat swearing at the telly too. What about the lovely lad who was FAB with a football? He came in clutching this game thing and that pillock said ‘we can’t see that now, we’re running out of time’. I mean, poor kid didn’t know what to do with himself. And then the idiot let him kick the football about for five minutes anyway, which was very good, but I was thinking that he could have actually let him demonstrate his game after all.
Grrrrrrrrrrrr
But wasn’t the little girl being Rudolph with the red nose cute though?!
Maxi – Gaybo had his faults, but he was great with children. He used to let them take the spotlight, and demonstrate the stuff. Also the items they had on had considerably less computing power. Time to end the agony?
E Mum – I’m afraid all those things you mention must have happened after the demise of our television. Sounds typical though. I’m just back from my annual trip to the television shop….
Oh, so it’s only once a year? By the way you went on about it I thought it was a nightly gig, or at least once a week. Now that would just be silly. We have a similar annual event here, where they fill up a stadium with children who go nuts as they watch even bigger children pummel each other senseless on a grassy field over a tiny leather ball that’s not even round – it’s kind of pointy on each end and won’t even roll.
They call this event “The Superbowl”. There’s some egos involved with this one too, mainly from the big kids on the field who are tossing around the pointy ball. The ego trips basically stem from each of these kids getting paid roughly 32 gazillion dollars a year to do this.
It’s the news anchors that drive me absolutely mad. They are supposed to give the news in an impartial manner, yet the ram their idiotic bathroom opinions down the viewers throat!
RhodesTer, don’t even get me started on those ball chasers! Have you ever heard the Andy Griffith football story?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oNxLxTZHKM8
‘Free Will’ people . . .you haz it . .uze it! Turn off the teev and go out and play!
Didn’t we do this last weekend ?
We’re missing the important question, what did you get drunk on? For me, tonight, it’s my da’s Jameson. Last two minutes of my twenties and I’m commenting on your blog, Grandad. A worthy pursuit.
RhodesTer – There is another one that is even worse. I believe it is called the World Cup or somesuch. Entire countries go ballistic, and I hide.
JD – Sport of any kind = mute or off. Simple as that.
Baino – Tell Herself that. It was cold and a good night for staying at home in front of the fire. Herself grabbed the remote, so argue with her.
TT – No. That was the ‘ordinary’ Late Late. I promise not to mention the subject again. Unless of course Plank makes another arse of himself.
Radge – A litre bottle of Jameson [my own, not my fathers]. May I be the first to wish you many happy thirtieth birthdays?
I’m looking forward to the Late Late Sex-toy Show.
Hope its a nice flat screen GD!!!
Bock – Now that would be worth watching.
Only the best, Kate. Only the best…..
Bock/Grandad – Podge n Rodge did a Late Late Sex-toy Show last year the Monday night following the Toy Show. You would’ve loved it!
I watched it, there were two highlights;
1. Five minutes in, a young fella who had failed to remove the ice from his windscreen crashed into a bollard outside my door, leaving his car perched precariously on top of it until the gardai came and one of them said, “Handy bit of parking you’ve done there son.”
2. The Asian kid, Connor, who insisted on standing in silence with his back to the audience instead of discussing his toys with Pat. Respect.
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Sexy – I missed that fella crashing into your bollard. Could you ask him to do it again please?
Sounds like it was a good thing I was too busy whoring Gamerscore upstairs in my room to watch either the live broadcast or the repeat
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