Head Rambles

Grandad November 8th, 2007

Do you find there aren’t enough hours in the day?

Are you stressed by work and home obligations?

Is your life in chaos?

Would you like more time to read Head Rambles???

As a very special offer to my readers, I am offering a chance of a lifetime, not only to get your life sorted, but to appear on television too!!

I’m serious.

R.T.E. are starting a new series called Not Enough Hours. They are looking for people to take part.

I quote:

Our expert will be on hand to help you reorganise your time, and make your life a bit calmer. We’ll help you free up some of that precious time so you’ll have more time for yourself and the things you really want to do instead of the things you feel you have to.

If you or someone you know is constantly feeling stressed or harried about long commutes, leaving kids for longer than they would like, or who seems to spend much longer than everyone in the office trying to get things done, well then we want to hear from you.

So there you go. More time to read Grandad’s ravings. More time to leave inane comments on Head Rambles.

THIS IS A CHANCE OF A LIFETIME.

You can read their flyer here

Then phone Ronan at 01 208 4587 or e-mail them at notenoughhours@rte.ie.

And don’t forget to say that Grandad sent you!

• On the road , Television
• Comments(8)

Grandad November 4th, 2007

An open letter to all furniture manufacturers.

Will you please f*ck off.

I am sick to the teeth of your advertisements popping up on all television channels trying to sell me sitting room suites that I don’t need or want.

I don’t care if you have dropped the price from €1,999 to €999. I still don’t want them. And it shows how grossly overpriced they were to start with if you can’t sell them after knocking €1,000 off.

I don’t like leather suites either. I don’t like sitting on dead animals. and leather is uncomfortable. It’s cold, and slippery. And Sandy will damage it in no time at all.

And what is thing about promising delivery by Christmas? Do you imagine that that is the only day of the year when people sit down? Are we all standing around saying to ourselves “Oh my God! Do you realise it’s nearly Christmas and we have nowhere to sit!”?

Another point. The stuff you are trying to flog is a stupid size. If I put it in my sitting room, I wouldn’t be able to get through the door to sit on it. Though I’d have great fun watching you lot trying to get it in in the first place.

I have three couches, and six armchairs. I also have four kitchen chairs and two emergency fold up chairs and a good old-fashioned rocking chair. So I don’t need your crap.

Obviously you have over ordered the things and have warehouses full of them. You are getting desperate now to get rid of them. You are trying to make me feel incomplete unless I have one or two, and that my Christmas will be destroyed if I don’t have one of them to sit on.

It won’t work.

Just f*ck off.

• Rants , Television
• Comments(22)

Grandad October 25th, 2007

I am now being forced to watch Children’s Television.

I was addled this morning anyway, but now I’m in a state of complete brain death.

I am being force fed Sponge Bob. He is bad enough with his American accent and slang being pumped into the next generation, but it’s the advertisements that are really bringing me to the melting point of tungsten.

They are obviously winding up for the Big Spend Fest in a couple of month’s time [I refuse to use the 'C' word until December]. The stuff they are advertising is the greatest load of sh*te I have ever seen. And the f*cking prices!!!!

I haven’t seen one item yet that requires a concentration span of a goldfish. They are all tacky dolls that talk [providing you with a 'friend for life'] or dogs that talk and grow, or Barbies that [wait for it....] plug into your own MP3.  Every second advertisement seems to be a Barbie this, or a Barbie that, or a Barbie DVD.

To try to make the toys look exciting, the advertisements are full of noxious little brats, all saying “WOW!” in a hushed tone of voice. And the voice-overs are worse.

Will someone please tell me in which dictionary I will find the word ‘awesomest’?

I am now going sedate myself with whatever toxic substance I can find under the kitchen sink.

……….

Puppychild just raised an eye at me..

“Are you all right, Gwandant?”

No, I’m not, my little precious.

No, I’m not.

• Television
• Comments(8)

Grandad September 9th, 2007

Sharon Ní Bheoláin

Oh Sharon! Sweet Sharon!
You are my life’s desire.
Every time you read the news
You set my loins heart on fire.

I turn you on at nine o’clock
To hear you talk of crime.
I’m not concerned with what you say.
You turn me on all the time .

Night after boring night
I pray you’re on the telly.
You rarely smile, but when you do
My stomach turns to jelly

Dobson is a mighty man,
And Hammond’s age is showing.
But Sharon, when you take your turn,
You set my juices flowing.

The news is all crime and death;
It’s a very depressing show.
But now that you are reading it,
I can feel my interest grow.

I bought myself a six foot screen
To watch you read the news
But when I switched you on last night,
You went and blew my fuse.

• Television
• Comments(13)

Grandad September 2nd, 2007

Last night Europe came under attack.

It was an unprovoked, surprise assault which caught us all off guard.

The European Broadcasting Commission dumped the Eurovision Dance Contest on us.

We have had the so called the Eurovision Song Contest for years now. It has descended into a farce where the same countries vote for each other year after year. The ’songs’ have nothing to do with it. Its only redeeming feature is Terry Wogan taking the piss out of the acts.

So they have dreamt up the Eurovision Dance Contest. Even worse, they gave us Graham Norton as the compere.

GN is the worst piece of excrement ever to have come out of the arsehole of television. He has a cringe factor that is off the scale. I would rather spend a month on a desert island with Pat ‘The Plank’ Kenny than a minute with GN. And that is saying something.

I didn’t watch the programme. I did watch the voting with the sound off. They made a b*ll*x of it of course, which gave GN a chance to mince about and pull silly faces at the camera. I don’t know who won. I don’t care. I hate dancing.

It’s to be an annual event. Next year I’ll be prepared. I reckon about 500Kg of Semtex under the mast at Montrose should do it.

On a lighter note, I’ve discovered an extreme rarity - a new comedy that is funny.

‘Outnumbered‘ comes from the same stable as ‘Drop The Dead Donkey’, but what I find astounding about it is its youngest star.

She is a natural. I have never seen child acting like it before. She will go a long way [if the fame and the drugs don't get her first].

It’s on BBC1 on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays, quite late [to make sure we all miss it].

It’s not often I say anything good about television.

• Television
• Comments(16)

Grandad August 21st, 2007

I was exposed to the most horrendous torture last night.

I managed to grab the TV listings and sit on them. But I had to go for a pee.

Herself grabbed the listings while I was out of the room. By the time I got back, she had discovered that The Rose of Tralee was on.

Now you know why I was sitting on the listings.

I pleaded. I begged. I threatened. But she switched over anyway. She had the remote control and the frying pan, so it was out of my hands.

The Rose of Tralee is car-crash television at it’s best [or worst]. You find yourself covering your eyes, and then peeking through your fingers. It’s like the Eurovision, but without Terry Wogan to take the p*ss out of it. And it goes on, and on, and on, and on.

We saw the second half of the first part last night. Herself has booked it for tonight because she says there is nothing else on. I think I’ll stay out in the kitchen and extract my teeth with a pliers.

What gets me is that the girls are all exactly the same. Somewhere in China, there is a factory churning them out [presumably with a lethal lead content]. They try to disguise that they are different by giving them different accents [and the American ones have to say "so, like" every ten seconds] but the formula gives them away…

• They all do Irish dancing
• They all think the best thing that has ever happened to them is getting to the finals.
• They all wanted to be contestants when they watched the programme as children.
• They all wave to a rowdy banner waving bunch in the audience.
• They are all pursuing [or about to pursue] incredibly rewarding careers.
• Their mammies cry and their daddies look embarrassed.
• If they are not Irish, they are there because their great great grandfather was deported for stealing tunips.
• They all designed or made their dresses.
• None of them want to win. Being there is enough.

I’m waiting for the first girl to admit that she was thrown out of school in first year and that she has been a pole dancer since she was sixteen to support the five kids [Jacinta, Brittney, Jason, Brad and Mercedes]. She’ll tell Ray D’Arcy to f*ck off because he’s asking boring questions. For her talent spot she’ll sing a song she composed herself about her court appearances. None of her family will be in the audience, because they couldn’t get temporary release. She will finally flounce off the stage taking all the trophies with her [hidden under the blanket in Jacinta's pram].

Now there’s a girl that represents modern Ireland!

• Television
• Comments(25)