Archive for November, 2008

In which I am called names by my daughter

November 25th, 2008

The last time my daughter called be a bollox was a long time ago.

Retribution was swift and involved petrol, matches and a Barbie doll collection.

She has called me a bollox again last night, but this time I’ll forgive her.  In fact I consider myself rather honoured.

I received an email that was entitled “Your bollox”.  I was going to discard it as I thought it was one of the usual enhancements that I’m offered regularly, and I don’t need any more of those.  I’m fully stocked.

Then I realised it was from Our K8.  She isn’t in the habit of sending me medical aids so I opened it.

Apparently she has awarded me her Dog’s Bollox of the Month Award.

To those of you who are not familiar with the expression, “dog’s bollox” is akin to “the bee’s knees” or “the cat’s pyjamas”.  It is very definitely an expression of approbation.  Why canine testicles should be a good thing, I don’t know.  Unless you’re a dog, of course.

Apparently previous recipients are Laughing Lion Design, Problemchildbride, Maxi Cane and Just Thinkin’ 

Of these, only Kirk M of Just Thinkin’ has the courage to display it on his site, but then he is The Dog’s Bollox [with no insult intended to the others].  Maxi has displayed it on his site, but he is disqualified anyway because he asked for his.  He is just The Bollox.

So I have to get to work now and fix my new award onto the site.  This should be no problem as there are plenty of builders looking for work at the moment.

And the next time someone calls me a bollox,  I shall reply “Yes, I am The Bollox”.

“The Dog’s Bollox”.

dogsbollox

The Plank – Redux

November 24th, 2008

I was browsing through the Sunday Tribune yesterday when I came across an article.

Ken Sweeney had a wee follow up on the Plank escapade on the Late Late.

One interesting aspect of it is that the woman won three items – cash, a trip to Dublin and the infamous tickets.  She won them, ergo they are hers.  So, when The Plank tore up the tickets, he was tearing up her property.  He now claims he is going to raffle them off.  He is offering her tickets [which she wants] for sale.  That would make a very interesting court case, and I hope she sues him.

Plank is still gobsmacked that there is a person who doesn’t want to go to his precious show. 

As far as he is concerned, each and every one of us would sell our grandmothers for a chance to be in the audience.

The Late Late Toy Show is true car-crash television.  We don’t want to watch, but it is so compelling in its awfulness that we have to watch.  It has one of the highest cringe factors in the universe.  We only watch to see Plank make an utter arse of himself yet again.

The Late Late Toy Show is Murphy’s Law in reverse – Everything will go wrong and at the worst possible time.

It is tacky in the extreme.  It is one long advertisement for grossly overpriced useless toys that won’t last twenty four hours. 

Yet Pat says “he is at a loss to understand why the woman had entered the competition”?  Does he not realise that there was €10,000 at stake?  Does he honestly think that €10,000 is a trivial thing compared to Late Late tickets?  What kind of idiot is he?

He then goes on to say

“Tickets to The Late Late Toy Show are impossible to get. No one can buy them. There are people in PR who can get you tickets to Barack Obama’s presidential inauguration. They can’t get tickets to The Late Late Toy Show."

So The Late Late Toy Show is more desirable than Barack Obama’s presidential inauguration?

The Plank is more popular than Barack Obama?

Is there no end to this idiots ego?

‘Tis the season to be jolly

November 23rd, 2008

If I hear any more “music”, where the “lyrics” contain the words Santa, Christmas, Wonderful, Snow or Jolly, I am going to go ballistic.

Does anyone actually likes this tacky sickly stuff?

Does this shite actually put people in a festive mood?

How do people work in shops where they are blaring out this rubbish non-stop?

I would rather have my eardrums perforated with red hot needles.

Yuletide jollies, my bollox.

Next time I hear it, I’m going to kill someone.

Another nail in The Plank

November 22nd, 2008

We watched a film last night.

It was “Vantage Point” if anyone is interested.  I enjoyed it, but this isn’t going to be one of those film reviews because your taste in films mightn’t be the same as mine.

At the end of the film, I ejected the DVD, and the television reverted back to the last channel we had been watching.

Up pops the Late Late Show.

My luck was in because The Plank was just finishing, and was doing his phone competition crap.

For those of you lucky enough not to experience The Plank, he has a competition each week where he phones some member of the public.  They have to answer some question and he make a big deal about giving them a prize.  You’d swear it was coming out of his own pocket.

patkennyaudience
God and his Disciples 

The Plank loves it when the phone victim squeals in delight [“Ah! Is it yourself, Pat”] and his ego reaches yet uncharted heights.  To this end, he tries [badly] to disguise his voice.

The phone was answered.  “Is that Mary?” croaks The Plank like an asthmatic donkey.

“It is,” said the woman at the other end.

“Do you know who this is?” says The Plank, waiting for the adulation he expects.

“I do,” says the woman in a very bored voice.

The Plank was gutted at the lack of squeals, but he recovered and asked her the competition question.  She answered it correctly in a tone normally reserved for a very irritating child.

“You have just won a weekend in Dublin, two tickets to the Late Late Toy Show and €10,000 spending money!!  Who will you bring to the Toy Show?”

“I won’t be going to that,” answered the woman in the same unimpressed voice.

The Plank’s face fell.  Someone was being given the chance to see him in the flesh, and they had turned him down.  He looked like he had been bitch-slapped with a wet haddock.

He asked her to repeat her statement in the hope that his world wasn’t collapsing around his ears, but she was adamant – she was not interested in the Late Late.

In a fit of petulance worthy of a five year old, he ceremoniously withdrew the two tickets from his pocket and tore them up into little pieces.

The woman didn’t break down and beg for mercy.  She wasn’t impressed at this wanton destruction of such highly prized items.  She was unmoved.

The Plank asked her if she wanted the rest of the prize.

“Yes,” says she.  “I’ll take the weekend and the money.”

Pat slammed the phone down.  He had never heard such insolence.  His gargantuan ego had taken a mighty battering.  He was devastated.

He sat silent for a moment as he tried to come to terms with this shattering turn of events.

“I think it’s time for me to quit this job,” he muttered.

YES!!!!!!

Update

The clip has appeared on YouTube [And it proves my memory is nearly right]:

Wrong decisions

November 21st, 2008

I am very impressed by our government.

They have been incredibly consistent over the years.

No matter what obstacles are placed in their path, they always manage to panic and do precisely the wrong thing.

It got me thinking.  Suppose our government had been in charge of the Titanic……

titanic

First Mate: Excuse me Captain, but some of the passengers say they can see icebergs ahead.

Captain: Our lookouts can’t see any.  MORE SPEED!

First Mate: But our lookouts are all in the bar celebrating the voyage.

Captain: What do fucking passengers know anyway.  MORE SPEED!

Later…

First Mate: Captain.  We have just hit a massive iceberg.

Captain: That’s not our fault.  Blame the cold weather.  I MUST HAVE MORE SPEED.

First Mate: Captain.  The ship is sinking.

Captain: All the more reason to move faster.  We have to get to port.  GIVE ME MORE SPEED DAMMIT!

First Mate: Shall I send out a distress call?

Captain: Are you saying I don’t know how to run this ship?  FASTER. FASTER.

First Mate: Captain.  The ship is going down fast.

Captain: Throw the life jackets and lifeboats overboard.  It will lighten the ship and we can go faster.

First Mate: It’s no good, Captain.  We are taking on too much water.

Captain: Throw the fucking passengers overboard.  That will lighten the ship.  Why aren’t we going any faster?

First Mate: Because we are at the bottom of the ocean, Captain.

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