Rejoice, for Uma o'Gil has done it again! "No Histrionics Please" is available now for only three quid, complete with badly drawn cover.
The companion piece to "You Know Yourself 2.0",
"No Histrionics Please" revisits the opulent center of Dublin circa 2005 and undercuts its misguided attempts at madcap satire with (largely unsuccessful) helpings of Gothic horror.
Featuring the likes of Roy Keane, Sinead O'Connor, Eric Cantona and many others, "No Histrionics Please"is an equal opportunity offender that takes no prisoners and asks the question: what if we were -in fact- fundamentally wrong?
"The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist."
You'll laugh (at the bad English), you'll cry (at the amount of of minutes that you'll never get back reading it), but mostly you'll cry (with relief that this one won't stretch to 300 pages).
Keywords:
exile - Dublin - Ireland - Roy Keane - Sinead O'Connor - consumerism - the meaning of life - chocolate - pub culture - existentialism - your mum in flip-flops - the National Library of Ireland - diplomacy - dramatic twist - mobile phones - the LadyBoys of Bangkok - Eric Cantona - conspiracies - modern life - Gothic - the Cocteau Twins - progress - Sir Alex Ferguson - Guinness - John Peel - air travel - commercial radio - Bertie Ahern- life - death - bollix.
Please note that "No Histrionics Please" is not recommended for Guardian or Daily Mail readers.
Showing posts with label Uma o'Gil. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Uma o'Gil. Show all posts
Tuesday, 28 July 2015
Monday, 27 May 2013
"Title TBC"
Xcr'pt from forthcoming Roy Keane / Sinead o'Connor Dub' based thrilla:
"The future was bright, and it took place in the sun. Something was about to happen, some terrible event, and in some location at some time! Well at least that was a clue. Probably very shortly, he could feel in his bones. Was it to take place tomorrow? "Focus, Roy, focus" he told him himself (but not aloud though, he wasn't a nutcase was he!). Closing his eyes, he swivelled in his swivel-chair and let his fingers rest upon the computer map. The signal guided his hand. His fingers started to followed some strange contour as if guided by a superior force, and slid in one definite direction -this must be the way. His hand finally came to a standstill. A complete standstill! This must be it, Roy reckoned. The signal faded indeed into the ether and he allowed himself a deep breath. He opened his eyes. His index pointed to the Emerald Isle! Something ominous was about to happen to his native land! Holy Mother of Christ, hadn't they suffered enough?? Roy let out a long sigh (pffffff........) then blinked and checked more thoroughly. Hey, at least it wasn't to take place in his native Socialist Republic! Oh no, the spot revealed was none other than the capital (Dublin, that will be). Dublin eh... For a second Roy entertained the mischievous thought of letting them Dubs deal with it themselves, serves them right for farting higher than their collective arses! He instantly took it back, though. Not because this would have been callous and -dare he add- ungallant of him, but because such was not his prerogative. Not for him to question the course of celestial events. On the football pitch maybe, and sometimes in the tunnel, but on the ouija-board? No chance. No way Jose, what was dictated was to be obeyed. It was as immutable as the clouds in the sky, as transcendent as an eclipse. And like the referee's decision it was final. Besides should he fancy trying to ignore his calling, he wouldn't get any sleep for sure. The Signal would come back strong as the angel of Fate was breathing hard upon him, leaving him in no doubt as to where his priorities lay. It was like when Triggs decided he needed out; the blasted beast wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. So... Dublin it was then. Something was afoot and it wasn't attached to a leg!
No-one spoke and Roy fell into a dream."
There'll be more than a touch of Victorian Gothic as well as "pulp fiction" touches + tons of musical references. Dublin will once more take centre stage...
Saturday, 4 May 2013
Uma FAQs off:
FAQs:
-Uma Uma, level with us, what the Bono is "YKY2.0" about??
-I wish I knew, mate.
-Why is it dated 2008?
-Because 2008, as any Westerner who hasn't been polluted by Simon Cowell knows, is the year our casino banking-based system came to crash. "2008" should automatically ring alarm bells in everyone's mind and since the book is about the last heady days of the Celtic Tiger (it could have easily been titled "Dance On The Volcano"), it -Oops! I've already said too much! ...It's up to you to find out for yourself, I guess.
Oh, and the fact that the past is easier to apprehend, hindsight being such a wonderful thing.
-Is the Lily character based on anyone?
-No, its earliest incarnation probably was... "Frasier". I am a huge fan of "Frasier"'s and once wrote a scenario taking the character in a seriously different direction. But, for this one (i.e. "YKY2.0"), I needed someone who would be out and about town where she would deal with celebrities and rich people. Plus there was this excellent radio in Dublin ('might as well name it, it's NewsTalk) I used to listen to; they had some dead nice reporters including a couple of twin sisters. No, if anything, you could argue that there's a lot of me in Lily. Hey! It's as Flaubert said of Mme Bovary: "Emma, c'est moi."
-Is the JohnnyRay character based on Geldof?
-Ha! I see where you're coming from, what with the opening remark from his daughter... Nope. No it isn't; I don't know much about the man, it's not "about" Gavin Friday either. Hey! It's as Flaubert said of (etc.)
-You seem to like Anna Faris...
-...Yes. I love her porcelain skin, her voice drives me crazy (Winona Ryder's as well, actually), she comes across as a genuine nice girl. Butseriouslythough. I always thought that it takes special talent to "do" comedy well and it seems to me she pulls it off effortlessly. I certainly think young miss Faris is a very talented actress, yes.
-You don't seem to like the Spice Girls very much...
-No.
-Why's that, if I may ask?
-You may. Because they're shite.
-Ah. And er, oh yes, will there be a sequel to Lily's -naturally fascinating- adventures?
-'Don't know. Probably not. She wouldn't be half as funny and endearing as a mature character. Or else, I would have to resurrect her with the same characteristics and then the whole thing would/might come across as something of a repeat. I would hate to sound like a one-trick pony. But then one never knows, never say never, etc. Would (hypothetical) readers take to her and (improbably) call for her return, there could be a Dublin tourism boosting TV series in the offing, the (self-deluded) thought has crossed my mind, yes...
-Are you working on something else?
-I certainly am. Various projects, in fact. One of them is another Dublin-based comedy that may or not may not feature Roy Keane, Sinead o'Connor, Eric Cantona and Bertie Aherne. The other is simply genius ...but I can't reveal too much at this stage except it will take me a lot of work to complete.
-Tell us more oh tell us more! Gizzas a clue!
-Well well well... it may just appeal to indie rock lovers... I think they might have a chuckle or ten going through it. In any case, just like "YKY2.0", it will consist of a little game played with them, an opportunity for them to play their part and contribute. A book is a two-way street, you know. It's not an author doing all the work and an audience passively receiving the text, oh no. The author continually drops hints and leaves clues / references for the reader to pick up. We live in such a culture-saturated world, full to the brim with pointers to movies, rock songs, historical events, TV programmes, celebrities, brands, slogans etc..
-I thought that "KYK2.0" was exhausting.
-It certainly is. Modern life is exhausting. Our attention is constantly sollicited by all sorts of pressing, would-be important, flashy, noisy, strident, unwanted, irrelevant interpellations (that, more often than not, consist of one single message: "Give me your money, sucker"). I once got started on a project that detailed, without any alternative viewpoint or reassuring step back, the subjective descent into stupefied brain death of a character watching TV non-stop over the course of a day (or a weekend, whatever). I wanted to convey the manic relentless avalanche of utter crap -most of it of a commercial nature- that assaults us when we find ourselves seated in front of the telly. ...I don't spend a lot of time watching TV.
-Sounds like your project got recycled somewhere in "YKY2.0"...
-It certainly was.
-Me mate went to Dublin once and told me he didn't see no sheeps or cows grazing in the streets -So what was your riff about then??
-Your mate is right. Gondolas don't fly off into the sunset either.
-And what about the screwdriver wielding tramps patrolling the cash-points! Isn't it, like, completely disrespeckful and totally offensivistic? I've got a good mind to go and post a strongly-worded message onto a "Garudian" comments board! Where did you last witness that happening? Huh??
-Never. It's called a work of fiction, see?
-Are you telling us that "by the Bono" is a complete invention?
-Yes.
-Are you telling us that literary evenings at the National Library don't end up in riotous free-for-alls?
-Yes.
-And that tax evading businessmen don't do shady deals on the back of decent hard-working folks?
-Er... Let me get back to you on this one.
-Why are you so obsessed with Dublin? 'Can't think of a better subject?
-Well, for one thing I met some of my very best friends there; secondly, this is where I was given another stab at this "living" thing. You tend not to forget these details, you know...
-I was a bit taken aback by the confusion of genres.
-So you should be. Laugh if you will but "YKY2.0" is an ambitious project firing on as many cylinders as possible. it's a mixed bag (some would call it a dog's breakfast but hey). I consistently tried to inject humour in sad / emotional scenes ...and tragic touches in comedy scenes (so as to add complexity and depth, at least that was the intention). Remember what comedy deals with... It is in fact tragedy: it is about how we deal with hardships and defuse crisis.
-What are your feelings about Lily? You seem ambivalent...
-Oh I'm very fond of her, she's a feisty combative character. She gets knocked down and picks herself up on a regular basis, goes back on the offensive. She could have been a rich kid; instead, she went and set out to do her own thing, trying to make it on her own terms. Her character went through verious versions; at times, I accentuated the pratfall element -it's a comedy after all- at times I laid on the violins -remember that the premise was of the "chicklit" category. There had to be an element of adventure (albeit a safe, sheltered one), there had to be a political / financial dimentions (which I then spent a lot time rubbing out / toning down as I didn't want the whole thing to end up reading like a pamphlet!). Lily's excitable (which is a good thing in my book), and endearing, and naive, and an inveterate day-dreamer -a tendency that can only be exacerbated by the narcotic power of suggestion of television. Basically, she encounters life in its challenging difficulty, it's a BildungsRoman. She has to grow up, and along the way must question her own motives, her own "Mission Statement". She has to find a Modus Vivendi that won't betray her principles and naturally generous tendencies. ...Now whether she manages or not is up for the reader to decide.
-Whatever happened to her Ma?
-We don't know. I don't believe in giving all the answers. I could very well have done in a Shakespearean kind of way and sewn up the book in nice little ribbons but I chose not to. You have to leave space for readers to fill in and offer their own suggestions / conclusions. Just like with Timothy at the end, I am dropping a massive hint there, lifted straight out of "********"but I'm being a tease, I won't say more on this subject. More seriously, the question of the mother's whereabouts is an integral part of the story. Her absence creates the kind of emotional vacuum and personal fortitude that fuel Lily's efforts and antics. I won't reveal any more on that, you go and think this over!
-So, did Roy Keane let his country down or not?
-He did not. Every claim the boy Roy made at the time re. the organisation -or lack of- was subsequently validated, it's just very sad it had to kick off this way. Now I can't possibly comment on the manager situation, that's another subject altogether which I wouldn't dare pronounce upon. Bear this in mind, though: Michael Laudrup fell out with his national manager, Johan Cruyff fell out with his national manager, Gabriel Batistuta fell out with this national manager, etc. These things happen, and they're highly personal.
-Why, thank you Uma for these -like- penetrating remarks yeah!
-Don't mention it, Uma.
-Uma Uma, level with us, what the Bono is "YKY2.0" about??
-I wish I knew, mate.
-Why is it dated 2008?
-Because 2008, as any Westerner who hasn't been polluted by Simon Cowell knows, is the year our casino banking-based system came to crash. "2008" should automatically ring alarm bells in everyone's mind and since the book is about the last heady days of the Celtic Tiger (it could have easily been titled "Dance On The Volcano"), it -Oops! I've already said too much! ...It's up to you to find out for yourself, I guess.
Oh, and the fact that the past is easier to apprehend, hindsight being such a wonderful thing.
-Is the Lily character based on anyone?
-No, its earliest incarnation probably was... "Frasier". I am a huge fan of "Frasier"'s and once wrote a scenario taking the character in a seriously different direction. But, for this one (i.e. "YKY2.0"), I needed someone who would be out and about town where she would deal with celebrities and rich people. Plus there was this excellent radio in Dublin ('might as well name it, it's NewsTalk) I used to listen to; they had some dead nice reporters including a couple of twin sisters. No, if anything, you could argue that there's a lot of me in Lily. Hey! It's as Flaubert said of Mme Bovary: "Emma, c'est moi."
-Is the JohnnyRay character based on Geldof?
-Ha! I see where you're coming from, what with the opening remark from his daughter... Nope. No it isn't; I don't know much about the man, it's not "about" Gavin Friday either. Hey! It's as Flaubert said of (etc.)
-You seem to like Anna Faris...
-...Yes. I love her porcelain skin, her voice drives me crazy (Winona Ryder's as well, actually), she comes across as a genuine nice girl. Butseriouslythough. I always thought that it takes special talent to "do" comedy well and it seems to me she pulls it off effortlessly. I certainly think young miss Faris is a very talented actress, yes.
-You don't seem to like the Spice Girls very much...
-No.
-Why's that, if I may ask?
-You may. Because they're shite.
-Ah. And er, oh yes, will there be a sequel to Lily's -naturally fascinating- adventures?
-'Don't know. Probably not. She wouldn't be half as funny and endearing as a mature character. Or else, I would have to resurrect her with the same characteristics and then the whole thing would/might come across as something of a repeat. I would hate to sound like a one-trick pony. But then one never knows, never say never, etc. Would (hypothetical) readers take to her and (improbably) call for her return, there could be a Dublin tourism boosting TV series in the offing, the (self-deluded) thought has crossed my mind, yes...
-Are you working on something else?
-I certainly am. Various projects, in fact. One of them is another Dublin-based comedy that may or not may not feature Roy Keane, Sinead o'Connor, Eric Cantona and Bertie Aherne. The other is simply genius ...but I can't reveal too much at this stage except it will take me a lot of work to complete.
-Tell us more oh tell us more! Gizzas a clue!
-Well well well... it may just appeal to indie rock lovers... I think they might have a chuckle or ten going through it. In any case, just like "YKY2.0", it will consist of a little game played with them, an opportunity for them to play their part and contribute. A book is a two-way street, you know. It's not an author doing all the work and an audience passively receiving the text, oh no. The author continually drops hints and leaves clues / references for the reader to pick up. We live in such a culture-saturated world, full to the brim with pointers to movies, rock songs, historical events, TV programmes, celebrities, brands, slogans etc..
-I thought that "KYK2.0" was exhausting.
-It certainly is. Modern life is exhausting. Our attention is constantly sollicited by all sorts of pressing, would-be important, flashy, noisy, strident, unwanted, irrelevant interpellations (that, more often than not, consist of one single message: "Give me your money, sucker"). I once got started on a project that detailed, without any alternative viewpoint or reassuring step back, the subjective descent into stupefied brain death of a character watching TV non-stop over the course of a day (or a weekend, whatever). I wanted to convey the manic relentless avalanche of utter crap -most of it of a commercial nature- that assaults us when we find ourselves seated in front of the telly. ...I don't spend a lot of time watching TV.
-Sounds like your project got recycled somewhere in "YKY2.0"...
-It certainly was.
-Me mate went to Dublin once and told me he didn't see no sheeps or cows grazing in the streets -So what was your riff about then??
-Your mate is right. Gondolas don't fly off into the sunset either.
-And what about the screwdriver wielding tramps patrolling the cash-points! Isn't it, like, completely disrespeckful and totally offensivistic? I've got a good mind to go and post a strongly-worded message onto a "Garudian" comments board! Where did you last witness that happening? Huh??
-Never. It's called a work of fiction, see?
-Are you telling us that "by the Bono" is a complete invention?
-Yes.
-Are you telling us that literary evenings at the National Library don't end up in riotous free-for-alls?
-Yes.
-And that tax evading businessmen don't do shady deals on the back of decent hard-working folks?
-Er... Let me get back to you on this one.
-Why are you so obsessed with Dublin? 'Can't think of a better subject?
-Well, for one thing I met some of my very best friends there; secondly, this is where I was given another stab at this "living" thing. You tend not to forget these details, you know...
-I was a bit taken aback by the confusion of genres.
-So you should be. Laugh if you will but "YKY2.0" is an ambitious project firing on as many cylinders as possible. it's a mixed bag (some would call it a dog's breakfast but hey). I consistently tried to inject humour in sad / emotional scenes ...and tragic touches in comedy scenes (so as to add complexity and depth, at least that was the intention). Remember what comedy deals with... It is in fact tragedy: it is about how we deal with hardships and defuse crisis.
-What are your feelings about Lily? You seem ambivalent...
-Oh I'm very fond of her, she's a feisty combative character. She gets knocked down and picks herself up on a regular basis, goes back on the offensive. She could have been a rich kid; instead, she went and set out to do her own thing, trying to make it on her own terms. Her character went through verious versions; at times, I accentuated the pratfall element -it's a comedy after all- at times I laid on the violins -remember that the premise was of the "chicklit" category. There had to be an element of adventure (albeit a safe, sheltered one), there had to be a political / financial dimentions (which I then spent a lot time rubbing out / toning down as I didn't want the whole thing to end up reading like a pamphlet!). Lily's excitable (which is a good thing in my book), and endearing, and naive, and an inveterate day-dreamer -a tendency that can only be exacerbated by the narcotic power of suggestion of television. Basically, she encounters life in its challenging difficulty, it's a BildungsRoman. She has to grow up, and along the way must question her own motives, her own "Mission Statement". She has to find a Modus Vivendi that won't betray her principles and naturally generous tendencies. ...Now whether she manages or not is up for the reader to decide.
-Whatever happened to her Ma?
-We don't know. I don't believe in giving all the answers. I could very well have done in a Shakespearean kind of way and sewn up the book in nice little ribbons but I chose not to. You have to leave space for readers to fill in and offer their own suggestions / conclusions. Just like with Timothy at the end, I am dropping a massive hint there, lifted straight out of "********"but I'm being a tease, I won't say more on this subject. More seriously, the question of the mother's whereabouts is an integral part of the story. Her absence creates the kind of emotional vacuum and personal fortitude that fuel Lily's efforts and antics. I won't reveal any more on that, you go and think this over!
-So, did Roy Keane let his country down or not?
-He did not. Every claim the boy Roy made at the time re. the organisation -or lack of- was subsequently validated, it's just very sad it had to kick off this way. Now I can't possibly comment on the manager situation, that's another subject altogether which I wouldn't dare pronounce upon. Bear this in mind, though: Michael Laudrup fell out with his national manager, Johan Cruyff fell out with his national manager, Gabriel Batistuta fell out with this national manager, etc. These things happen, and they're highly personal.
-Why, thank you Uma for these -like- penetrating remarks yeah!
-Don't mention it, Uma.
Saturday, 6 April 2013
Still re-formatting. (And naturally re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-amending stuff here and there!)
Amazing as it sounds, in all these years I never once considered the question of the book cover! Need to go and delve into my self-made archive and adapt one of Loig7San's nightmares...
Was thinking; let's set ourselves a goal, see if for example I can manage to sell ten copies (via the famous friendsnfamily network which I don't put much hope in anyway: the people around you are the last persons you want to impose on and ask for money); let's say ten copies then, amounting to a profit of around 12 Pounds after tax. I'll tell yous what...:
I would (will?) frame this cheque!
(Or bank statement, as it would more realistically look like).
Question: how does it work? Can we submit a synopsis / advertising slogan / list of key-words? We'll see soon enough.
ok
Amazing as it sounds, in all these years I never once considered the question of the book cover! Need to go and delve into my self-made archive and adapt one of Loig7San's nightmares...
Was thinking; let's set ourselves a goal, see if for example I can manage to sell ten copies (via the famous friendsnfamily network which I don't put much hope in anyway: the people around you are the last persons you want to impose on and ask for money); let's say ten copies then, amounting to a profit of around 12 Pounds after tax. I'll tell yous what...:
I would (will?) frame this cheque!
(Or bank statement, as it would more realistically look like).
Question: how does it work? Can we submit a synopsis / advertising slogan / list of key-words? We'll see soon enough.
ok
Tuesday, 4 September 2012
"Learn French" poster -how could anyone resist!
xc'rpt from "You Know Yourself 2.0" copyright UmaUma -with the usual proviso: subject to (yet another) revision / the setting: Alliance Francaise in Dublin, the time: around 2008.
A cheery poster catches my attention.
"Discover the fascinating world of the French, in all of its vibrant complexity and enriching magnitude!"
"Look at them, the French natives..." (photo of a French native) "they certainly are a queer kettle of fish, aren't they? They can't pronounce their aitches but add them everywhere, they eat frogs and snails, they play with flair but give up at the earliest opportunity, and when they're not on strike, they're after taking a siesta!!" (cartoon of a bed sprouting "ZZZZzzzs" in the air) "Now scratch beyond the surface, look beyond the cover, and ask yourself: are the French actually worth knowing? The answer is "Yes"! A thousand oui!
Take this French you may have just encountered around the corner, all lips curled and shoulders a-shrugging, everyone's natural reaction would be to flee and delouse but non, non, non, that would be wrong. That would indicate poor judgement on your part (and probably be offensive, all things being equal). Non, our advice is: don't be alarmed. Don't be phoning "Talk To Joe" just yet. Maybe this is all a misundestanding, maybe this is just a case of cultural -yes, cultural (!!)- differences...
Let's apprehend the situation in a rational manner. So here you are, faced with a French that is starting to make noises. Don't panic, assess the situation calmly. Maybe he -or she- is trying to impart knowledge of some sort? Maybe he -or she- is simply happy to see you? Does he wag his tail? (Ha ha, only kidding -it might be a she.) Look him -or her- in the eye and breathe slowly -now no brisk movement here, this might set them off-, observe the French and take note. Is he -or she- responding to your friendly behaviour and reciprocating eye-contact, or are the auld shoulders still rotating? For all you know, this may constitute normal conduct in France when awakening... Or else this French may genuinely be inebriated. True that, true, well within the realms of possibility.
Seriously though, think about it: could it be this French -who is now presumably standing up and squaring up to you, crab-legged, in typical Gallic stance-, could it be he -or she- is after all... not so different from you! Could it?? Admittedly, yes, this may come as a bombshell to some and an affront to good Fenian manners, but do bear with us and chew this over for a while. ... Now then. See? There's got to be some truth in it, isn't there got? Here is what we suggest: for all you know, yous two may have more in common than you previously imagined! For real!! Or at least we, at the Alliance, like to think so (otherwise, what a complete waste of our lives this has been... but let's not go there, oh no).
For sure, he -or she- will differ in a few minor details here and there, but you can't expect everyone to be the same. The real question is: should these details actually matter? Leaving aside the baffling accent and infinitely more stylish clothes, wouldn't you accept our daring proposition: this French you're exposed to may not, in fact, be so different from your good self... Have a heart. Doesn't he -or she- deserve to be treated with the same respect you would grant anybody in the country (even Limerick)?
So just relax. Try not to look tense or apprehensive when approaching a French: this is sending the worst possible kind of signal as he -or she- can smell fear, even beyond its surrounding cloud of perfume. Mock not the French. Engage with them via careful eye-contact; this is not the London Tube, so this conduct is perfectly acceptable. You may then attempt a friendly gesture such as waving your arm -not too vigorously though. Chances are the French may recognise your intention and will respond accordingly -note of warning here: this may entail kissing. Congratulations: you've overcome the first hurdle!
Now for the noise emitted by this hypothetical French. Bear this in mind, and this will spare you sweats of anguish: just because this lot sounds to your refined Gaelic ear like they are engaged in shouting or cursing you does not necessarily mean they are. In fact, their incomprehensible ejaculations may not even denote aggression -Oh no, this is just the French way of communicating! So don't be reaching for the mace just yet.
Part deux: Welcome To France.
Welcome to France" (map of France) "where the weather is famously grand, 365 days sunny, and where the girls are pretty -"Heureux days!" one is tempted to say (LOL!!!). France, where the houses come up with prices so low, so ridiculous ...they are literally begging to get snapped off indigenous hands! It's a win-win situation and no mistake, so heed the call, you cunning investor, and go East, help yourself to one, or two, or three -who's counting after all! Expand your portfolio and get in there before the Brits nab all the good ones. There may not be any French word for "entrepreneur", but the future is bright -and it's right up for grabs! Noted commentators say: be investing in the true land of opportunity the other side of the Irish sea, and secure yourself the dream cottage that you've always, er, dreamed of; it's easy to find: right under the sun. Only requiring a minimum amount of touch-up here and there (maybe a lick of paint or two), your very own retreat awaits your pleasure and is totally languishing after you, so don't be scared now, don't fret -go right ahead! Tackle the French by the horns!
Why wait when you can put one over your neighbours? They'll be fuming when they hear about your good fortune! Don't be phoning your Mammy in the middle of "Father Ted" just to tell her about your encounter with a French, jump straight into the world-famous Je Ne Sais Quoi lifestyle and enjoy! Try some nice Beaujolais instead of beer, tuck into cooked meat for a change, and remember: interacting with the French doesn't have to be a chore :-(
-after all, we're not English! :-)
Ourselves at the Alliance Francaise are on hand to help you achieve your dream, we love to help! So come on in, sample the legendary French sense of hospitality, its easy manners and famed politeness, and sign up for our StartUpQwikLern (TM) series of up freshening language courses! Anyone can apply -even Culchies. After a mere couple of lessons with our legally registered tutors (all criminal records vetted and local sex offender registries duly notified of our teachers' whereabouts), you too will soon be able to converse almost fluently with René the jovial postman and Renée the fat butcher. "Sacrebléu! Merde alors mon ami!""
A cheery poster catches my attention.
"Discover the fascinating world of the French, in all of its vibrant complexity and enriching magnitude!"
"Look at them, the French natives..." (photo of a French native) "they certainly are a queer kettle of fish, aren't they? They can't pronounce their aitches but add them everywhere, they eat frogs and snails, they play with flair but give up at the earliest opportunity, and when they're not on strike, they're after taking a siesta!!" (cartoon of a bed sprouting "ZZZZzzzs" in the air) "Now scratch beyond the surface, look beyond the cover, and ask yourself: are the French actually worth knowing? The answer is "Yes"! A thousand oui!
Take this French you may have just encountered around the corner, all lips curled and shoulders a-shrugging, everyone's natural reaction would be to flee and delouse but non, non, non, that would be wrong. That would indicate poor judgement on your part (and probably be offensive, all things being equal). Non, our advice is: don't be alarmed. Don't be phoning "Talk To Joe" just yet. Maybe this is all a misundestanding, maybe this is just a case of cultural -yes, cultural (!!)- differences...
Let's apprehend the situation in a rational manner. So here you are, faced with a French that is starting to make noises. Don't panic, assess the situation calmly. Maybe he -or she- is trying to impart knowledge of some sort? Maybe he -or she- is simply happy to see you? Does he wag his tail? (Ha ha, only kidding -it might be a she.) Look him -or her- in the eye and breathe slowly -now no brisk movement here, this might set them off-, observe the French and take note. Is he -or she- responding to your friendly behaviour and reciprocating eye-contact, or are the auld shoulders still rotating? For all you know, this may constitute normal conduct in France when awakening... Or else this French may genuinely be inebriated. True that, true, well within the realms of possibility.
Seriously though, think about it: could it be this French -who is now presumably standing up and squaring up to you, crab-legged, in typical Gallic stance-, could it be he -or she- is after all... not so different from you! Could it?? Admittedly, yes, this may come as a bombshell to some and an affront to good Fenian manners, but do bear with us and chew this over for a while. ... Now then. See? There's got to be some truth in it, isn't there got? Here is what we suggest: for all you know, yous two may have more in common than you previously imagined! For real!! Or at least we, at the Alliance, like to think so (otherwise, what a complete waste of our lives this has been... but let's not go there, oh no).
For sure, he -or she- will differ in a few minor details here and there, but you can't expect everyone to be the same. The real question is: should these details actually matter? Leaving aside the baffling accent and infinitely more stylish clothes, wouldn't you accept our daring proposition: this French you're exposed to may not, in fact, be so different from your good self... Have a heart. Doesn't he -or she- deserve to be treated with the same respect you would grant anybody in the country (even Limerick)?
So just relax. Try not to look tense or apprehensive when approaching a French: this is sending the worst possible kind of signal as he -or she- can smell fear, even beyond its surrounding cloud of perfume. Mock not the French. Engage with them via careful eye-contact; this is not the London Tube, so this conduct is perfectly acceptable. You may then attempt a friendly gesture such as waving your arm -not too vigorously though. Chances are the French may recognise your intention and will respond accordingly -note of warning here: this may entail kissing. Congratulations: you've overcome the first hurdle!
Now for the noise emitted by this hypothetical French. Bear this in mind, and this will spare you sweats of anguish: just because this lot sounds to your refined Gaelic ear like they are engaged in shouting or cursing you does not necessarily mean they are. In fact, their incomprehensible ejaculations may not even denote aggression -Oh no, this is just the French way of communicating! So don't be reaching for the mace just yet.
Part deux: Welcome To France.
Welcome to France" (map of France) "where the weather is famously grand, 365 days sunny, and where the girls are pretty -"Heureux days!" one is tempted to say (LOL!!!). France, where the houses come up with prices so low, so ridiculous ...they are literally begging to get snapped off indigenous hands! It's a win-win situation and no mistake, so heed the call, you cunning investor, and go East, help yourself to one, or two, or three -who's counting after all! Expand your portfolio and get in there before the Brits nab all the good ones. There may not be any French word for "entrepreneur", but the future is bright -and it's right up for grabs! Noted commentators say: be investing in the true land of opportunity the other side of the Irish sea, and secure yourself the dream cottage that you've always, er, dreamed of; it's easy to find: right under the sun. Only requiring a minimum amount of touch-up here and there (maybe a lick of paint or two), your very own retreat awaits your pleasure and is totally languishing after you, so don't be scared now, don't fret -go right ahead! Tackle the French by the horns!
Why wait when you can put one over your neighbours? They'll be fuming when they hear about your good fortune! Don't be phoning your Mammy in the middle of "Father Ted" just to tell her about your encounter with a French, jump straight into the world-famous Je Ne Sais Quoi lifestyle and enjoy! Try some nice Beaujolais instead of beer, tuck into cooked meat for a change, and remember: interacting with the French doesn't have to be a chore :-(
-after all, we're not English! :-)
Ourselves at the Alliance Francaise are on hand to help you achieve your dream, we love to help! So come on in, sample the legendary French sense of hospitality, its easy manners and famed politeness, and sign up for our StartUpQwikLern (TM) series of up freshening language courses! Anyone can apply -even Culchies. After a mere couple of lessons with our legally registered tutors (all criminal records vetted and local sex offender registries duly notified of our teachers' whereabouts), you too will soon be able to converse almost fluently with René the jovial postman and Renée the fat butcher. "Sacrebléu! Merde alors mon ami!""
Saturday, 25 August 2012
Radio clichés
X'crpt fromYKNY2.0, copyright Uma o'Gil 0018-0012
(...)
Finally, if I'm really desperate for topics and pressed for time, I can always resort to the Disguised Overkills. These are deadly: they bypass the brain almost entirely and go straight for the jugular; they tick the boxes that haven’t even been built. When I'm really stumped for ideas, I don't think twice, I bring out the big guns. Here is a selection of what I mean by that -Enjoy!
"Politicians -who do they think they are? Do you think they are special? In your judgement, do you think they deserve special treatment?"
"Traffic wardens eh... -shouldn't they be employed catching criminals instead?"
"Billions are starving in the world and we have this obesity problem here in Western Europe ...what gives??"
"The Queen of England... isn't it time she came to Ireland on a State visit? What do you think?"
This one is an all-time favourite with right-wing loudmouths, it is so wrong on so many levels it becomes sheer genius. Introducing the Political-Correctness-Gone-Mad sledgehammer: "How do you feel about this school in" (insert place name that can't be checked anyway) "that wants to ban Christmas this year for fear of offending non-Christian pupils?"
"Heard the latest from the European Community: they want to ban bendy bananas / they want to force circus acrobats to wear safety hats in keeping with the new Health and Safety regulations?" -This one adds a further layer: the European Community has actually become the European Union for fifteen fecking years now.
Sure, there is an awful lot of old junk out there, right up for recycling.
And that's even before the "cyclicals".
Now, the basic principle behind the "cyclicals" is simplicity itself: it is about hailing the socially established landmarks that time our lives ("-Eh?") ...or what regular events happen every bleedin' year. You start with New Year resolutions and move on from there. In no particular order (that'd take me too long), we certainly have plenty to choose from:
-the officially most depressing day of the year: January the 5th
-the shocking discovery that, three weeks on, gym attendance by New Year recruits is already collapsing
-the Chinese New Year
-much chin stroking and finger wagging after the quarterly publication of various official statistics detailing such things as personal debt figures and road fatalities numbers :-(
-the sitting of Leaving Certs exams throughout the land -i.e. the usual advice to be administered to the nervous young wans
-the publication of Leaving Certs results and attending condemnation of the drunken mayhem ensuing
-Saint-Patrick's Day, the inevitable warnings against public drunkenness followed by consternation at the nighttime vandalism
-the arrival of spring (hurrah!)
-the arrival of summer (hurrah!)
-the official end of the summer, and the countdown towards the end of the year: aren't days getting shorter?
-Left-handers day
-Women’s Day
-Mother's Day
-Father's Day
-Nan's Day
-Doris Day
-Easter
-Passover
-First communions
-the wildly (widely?) awaited Christmas office parties. How to avoid gross personal misconduct, wink wink
-Christmas and its shameless commercialism (there's always a Grinch on hand to solemnly declare in the mike that "This year, that's it, I won't be celebrating!")
-Valentine's Day and its shameless commercialism -but then no fellow out there would dare ignore it
-Bloom's Day and its shameless commercialism
-the Roses of Tralee, its innocent kitsh gone astray and its shameless commercialism
-the (January) sales and their shameless etc.
-the Easter Rising
-the end of WW2 (in which Ireland didn't take part)
-the start of the GAA season. The rising sense -mainly in the Dub' media- that this could be the year the Dubs will be mounting a credible challenge for the title
-the deflation at the Dubs' defeat
-the GAA final
-the rugby Six Nations, and how outstanding-yet-unlucky-with-injury Drico seems to be (the main thing being that we beat you-know-who, though)
-the FA Cup Final, featuring these well-known Irish teams Manchester United, Arsenal or Liverpool
-the summer music festivals, their line-ups, and the cheeky advice to mete out to revellers preparing to undergo the gruelling experience
-the presentation of this summer's uniformly American megabudget blockbuster sequels
-that one day in the year apart from Christmas when alcohol is scandalously not on sale
-the mad Irish horse race festival, over the water in Cheltenham
-the failure of the Irish soccer team to qualify for a forthcoming tournament ("to be honest with you, we're a small country")
-the Eurovision song contest, and why we should win really
-the Eurovision song contest, and how the "new" Eastern European countries have ruined it for everybody else
-the election of "Alternative Miss Ireland", and what it says about our new tolerant mores
-the release of the new U2 album, its importance for the national psyche and prominence on the world stage
and on and on. Like I said, simplicity itself! Pick an agenda (any agenda), leaf through the holidays marked, select the ones for which you have old bollix to recycle, and there you are: job done, boxed off!
Ah yes, there is a lot to be said about recycling old chestnuts ...right?
Sadly, this is not how it went today though; today I tried to be cute. Went off the script, went for originality -and now am pretty much up the proverbial creek. Luckily my allocated time is coming to a merciful end and my ordeal will soon be over. Enough with off-the-cuff sez she, enough with material that doesn't tick all the pigeonholes! (or something like that) Sometimes one shouldn't try to be too clever, the beaten path is the safest.
Marina's helping me out though; Marina's on my side. She is the programme's co-presenter and is dutifully emitting the little snorts of appreciation / disbelief befitting my edifying diatribe ("Fancy that! / Well I never! / Good girl yourself!"). I owe Marina big time.
I owe her even more when compared to a certain someone who is staying quiet -very quiet indeed- throughout the course of my ordeal.
That someone is Timothy O'Arnlan.
(tobecontinued)
Wednesday, 22 August 2012
Carving Dublin Up.
Uma o'Gil copyright 2008-0012 xcrp't
Let's cut the BS and, since we're on, here's a category The Herald certainly didn't fail to feature at every opportunity, the new top drawer elite that's stamped its mark on Ireland's imagination: drum roll for the new heroes of our times tada! ...The construction magnates. The crane maniacs. Them lovable movers and shakers... always engaged in sneaky acquisitions and cheeky counter acquisitions:
"Now then. Say you buy me The Shelbourne and I buy you St-Stephen's Green, how's that working for you?
-Call that a deal? Who you think you're talking to, pal! Who's the one bottling the Liffey and selling it back to Yank tourists here? You, or me?
-OK OK, so what about... what about I throw in the entry code to the Dail and the thirtieth of April? Fore!
-Riiiight that might just about clinch it but... But then -hear me out here- I'll throw in Balyfermot Central's golf course, Rosanna Davidson, Dun Laoghaire's yacht club and in exchange... in exchange I get the Jackie Yeats's "Water lilies", the Abrakadabra kebab chain, and the new airport terminal!
-Not without the Jackie Skelly gyms you don't!
-I see. You wanna play hard ball wid me, 'sthat it? Well well well... Chew this over pal: scrap my last offer. Forget it, too late! How about I give you instead... my champion greyhound Kiki, a trip down memory lane for two, still Rosanna Davidson, a hearty hello and a couple of cranes in mint condition to boot -How's that sound now? More acceptable?
-What about Jackie Skelly's?
-You really fancy them do you? Right, but then I want my name on the Declaration of Independence!
-With or without your photo?
-Don't be daft -they didn't have cameras in 1916! Now on a postage stamp though... we may have a deal here.
-Hmm now let me think... Let me think, I smell a rat... You sure know how to drive a hard bargain! What about the three little pigs, by the way? You still own them?
-Only half half with McDermo.
-Say you throw in one of the pigs -you sort it out with McDermo- and in return I get your son to play for Ireland at the next Euros. They need a midfielder, leave it to me.
-Deal!
-Spit on it!
-Now wait a second though... I suppose ten sunny days are out of the question?
-.... That could be arranged.
-The right of way anywhere in town?
-Agreed also, but then I take back the thirtieth of April and I get the final edit on your autobiography in return. Spit on it! (Change of clubs, new set of balls.)
-Not so fast, not so fast, that's a big ask that... My legacy eh! Can't be messin' with that! Now what about... What about I agree on principle but then let's say I want the grey squirrels in town and you get the keep the red ones?
-That may work for me, but only pending a tax credit on nuts that your TDs won't oppose in the Dail.
-What about my arse your face?
-Rain on your wedding day?
-Ten thousand knives when all you need is a spoon?
-Are you for real? Want me to go and spill the beans about Shergar?
-OK OK or -Tell you what. Here's a mutually satisfactory one... Say we split the GAA fifty-fifty: half the teams play on my days, and half play when you say.
-Consider it done!
-Plus an audience with Joanne Cantwell.
-Holy feck! Don't push it now, I'd have to consult with me lawyers on that one!"
(tobecontinued)
Let's cut the BS and, since we're on, here's a category The Herald certainly didn't fail to feature at every opportunity, the new top drawer elite that's stamped its mark on Ireland's imagination: drum roll for the new heroes of our times tada! ...The construction magnates. The crane maniacs. Them lovable movers and shakers... always engaged in sneaky acquisitions and cheeky counter acquisitions:
"Now then. Say you buy me The Shelbourne and I buy you St-Stephen's Green, how's that working for you?
-Call that a deal? Who you think you're talking to, pal! Who's the one bottling the Liffey and selling it back to Yank tourists here? You, or me?
-OK OK, so what about... what about I throw in the entry code to the Dail and the thirtieth of April? Fore!
-Riiiight that might just about clinch it but... But then -hear me out here- I'll throw in Balyfermot Central's golf course, Rosanna Davidson, Dun Laoghaire's yacht club and in exchange... in exchange I get the Jackie Yeats's "Water lilies", the Abrakadabra kebab chain, and the new airport terminal!
-Not without the Jackie Skelly gyms you don't!
-I see. You wanna play hard ball wid me, 'sthat it? Well well well... Chew this over pal: scrap my last offer. Forget it, too late! How about I give you instead... my champion greyhound Kiki, a trip down memory lane for two, still Rosanna Davidson, a hearty hello and a couple of cranes in mint condition to boot -How's that sound now? More acceptable?
-What about Jackie Skelly's?
-You really fancy them do you? Right, but then I want my name on the Declaration of Independence!
-With or without your photo?
-Don't be daft -they didn't have cameras in 1916! Now on a postage stamp though... we may have a deal here.
-Hmm now let me think... Let me think, I smell a rat... You sure know how to drive a hard bargain! What about the three little pigs, by the way? You still own them?
-Only half half with McDermo.
-Say you throw in one of the pigs -you sort it out with McDermo- and in return I get your son to play for Ireland at the next Euros. They need a midfielder, leave it to me.
-Deal!
-Spit on it!
-Now wait a second though... I suppose ten sunny days are out of the question?
-.... That could be arranged.
-The right of way anywhere in town?
-Agreed also, but then I take back the thirtieth of April and I get the final edit on your autobiography in return. Spit on it! (Change of clubs, new set of balls.)
-Not so fast, not so fast, that's a big ask that... My legacy eh! Can't be messin' with that! Now what about... What about I agree on principle but then let's say I want the grey squirrels in town and you get the keep the red ones?
-That may work for me, but only pending a tax credit on nuts that your TDs won't oppose in the Dail.
-What about my arse your face?
-Rain on your wedding day?
-Ten thousand knives when all you need is a spoon?
-Are you for real? Want me to go and spill the beans about Shergar?
-OK OK or -Tell you what. Here's a mutually satisfactory one... Say we split the GAA fifty-fifty: half the teams play on my days, and half play when you say.
-Consider it done!
-Plus an audience with Joanne Cantwell.
-Holy feck! Don't push it now, I'd have to consult with me lawyers on that one!"
(tobecontinued)
Wednesday, 15 August 2012
Eastenders parody YKY2.0Xcrpt
"YouKnowYourself2.0" Uma o'Gil 0012 xcerpt
Baldie with tattoos all over the place: "Oi! Geezer! Whass gain' on? Cahm' ere!"
Other baldie: "You wot? Whazzthat you want? Want some? Huh? Huh? Whatcha sayin'?"
First baldie: "Oi! Ain't meant nuffink, bruv'"
Second: "Dunnit."
First baldie: "Aincha!"
Second: "Watchit!"
First one: "Innit."
Second: "Tell you wot tho…, I’ll ‘av a butcher’s, see if I can find it –Nah less go dahrn the pub!"
Second: "Too fackin' right we will! Watch me!"
Builder: "Blahdy 'ell mate... Can't even have a bo''le of min'ral in peace these days! You ‘ave a blahdy cheek, queshioning me on me tea break! ‘hoo do you think you are? So what if I luv' me old Mum -godda problem with that??"
Lady coming out of launderette, smoking: "Oi! You, yes you! That's no praper way 'talk to your bruvver! Show some fackin' res-peck will ya! Fat cahnt. (I'll tell you wot, some people 'ere -they ain't half taking liberties dunn' they!)"
Red faced publican on a fag break: "Ah leave it aht now! Knock it on thee 'ead son! He ain't worf it!"
Passing Jamaican: "Gotcha! They juss' aving a larf, ain't they?"
Lady eating chips and jellied eels in the caf', smoking: "Kids messin' about, innit?"
Old lady selling DVDs out of a suitcase: "Wouldn’t ‘ave been allowed in them days, when Reggie 'n Ronnie woz around..."
Up pops young man in tracksuit and trainers: "Never 'urt but their ahrn!"
Car dealer round the corner: "Luved their muvver"
Old lady, lighting up: "and you could leave yer door open -Take the Queen Muvver, ya cahnt: deserves every penny she gets! Gawd bless 'er!"
Unemployed single mother: "And luvs 'er G’nT, dunnshe? Praper class, aintsha!"
Alcoholic bum: "Always 'as a smile for everyone, a little wave..."
Ray Winstone, passing by: "Sweet... Who's the Daddy then?"
Unemployed single mother: "Nan of yer fackin' business!"
Fat man slaps hand on Scotsman's shoulder: "You're nicked, sunshine!"
Wife beater: "Cripes! The rozzers! It's a fair cop."
Fat man takes hand off cautiously, surveys it and wipes it on his trousers.
Unidentified character: "Top of the morning, to be sure"
Paper boy in flatcap: "'Ammers for the Cup! Who are ya? Who are ya?"
Asian street trader: "Cor, blimey"
Jamaican: "Strike a light, guv"
Asian street trader: "...if that bird ain't a right piece of skirt"
Young woman -for it is she- pushing a pram, smoking: "Oi! You watch yer mahrth! Show some manners wantcha -we 'got some fackin' kids liss'nin', avn' I!"
Jamaican, laughing: "Ha ha, you’s just been told my son!"
Credible gay character, on his way -sorry: on 'is way- to The Bucket Of Blood: "Praper naughty! Too fackin' right, me old china!"
Man in tinted shades, sheepskin: "Me old mo'or for sale, picture of 'ealth: twin engine, chrome plated plates, drives like a beauty -yars for a donkey! Cahm' on! I'm slashing me own throat 'ere!"
Unemployed barber: "Is all you 'got? Ain't got nuffin' else?"
Man in tinted shades: "Whazzat you ‘after? This is Lahrndahrn Tahrn son: I 'got it all! Luverly jubberly! Genuine Champers -bottled in Barking! Gold rings, gold medallions, gold knackledasters -three for a fiiiver!"
Fat man in suit: "Need to see a man abaht a dawg"
Kid with earrings: "Sorted!"
Grandmother, smoking: "Ssssafe."
Indian grocerer: "Stone the crows aincha dunnit innit Sid James me old mugger watchit Babs Windsor you slaaag blimey knahck me dahrn geezer bird you cahnt chim chimeney who are ya who are ya too fackin right hell's bells wonncha!"
Gentle narrator employed to give the moral of the story at the end of every episode: "And so I say... why don't we all less go dahrn the pub ‘hen?"
Ah yes, they inhabit a strange world in "EastEnders"... a strange world with totally arcane topics of conversation, dead incomprehensible to someone’s admittedly refined ears. It's true though: these Albert Square residents, they never –like- discuss Bertie’s latest financial oddities -he must be loving it, being given a break from these pesky financial auditors! The Old Vic has to be the only pub whose regulars never sounded much bothered by the new Civil War debate -namely: did Roy Keane walk out on his country or did he not? It is the one place where the very existence of Glenda Gilson has gone unnoticed. ...Truly we are baffled.
(to be continued)
Baldie with tattoos all over the place: "Oi! Geezer! Whass gain' on? Cahm' ere!"
Other baldie: "You wot? Whazzthat you want? Want some? Huh? Huh? Whatcha sayin'?"
First baldie: "Oi! Ain't meant nuffink, bruv'"
Second: "Dunnit."
First baldie: "Aincha!"
Second: "Watchit!"
First one: "Innit."
Second: "Tell you wot tho…, I’ll ‘av a butcher’s, see if I can find it –Nah less go dahrn the pub!"
Second: "Too fackin' right we will! Watch me!"
Builder: "Blahdy 'ell mate... Can't even have a bo''le of min'ral in peace these days! You ‘ave a blahdy cheek, queshioning me on me tea break! ‘hoo do you think you are? So what if I luv' me old Mum -godda problem with that??"
Lady coming out of launderette, smoking: "Oi! You, yes you! That's no praper way 'talk to your bruvver! Show some fackin' res-peck will ya! Fat cahnt. (I'll tell you wot, some people 'ere -they ain't half taking liberties dunn' they!)"
Red faced publican on a fag break: "Ah leave it aht now! Knock it on thee 'ead son! He ain't worf it!"
Passing Jamaican: "Gotcha! They juss' aving a larf, ain't they?"
Lady eating chips and jellied eels in the caf', smoking: "Kids messin' about, innit?"
Old lady selling DVDs out of a suitcase: "Wouldn’t ‘ave been allowed in them days, when Reggie 'n Ronnie woz around..."
Up pops young man in tracksuit and trainers: "Never 'urt but their ahrn!"
Car dealer round the corner: "Luved their muvver"
Old lady, lighting up: "and you could leave yer door open -Take the Queen Muvver, ya cahnt: deserves every penny she gets! Gawd bless 'er!"
Unemployed single mother: "And luvs 'er G’nT, dunnshe? Praper class, aintsha!"
Alcoholic bum: "Always 'as a smile for everyone, a little wave..."
Ray Winstone, passing by: "Sweet... Who's the Daddy then?"
Unemployed single mother: "Nan of yer fackin' business!"
Fat man slaps hand on Scotsman's shoulder: "You're nicked, sunshine!"
Wife beater: "Cripes! The rozzers! It's a fair cop."
Fat man takes hand off cautiously, surveys it and wipes it on his trousers.
Unidentified character: "Top of the morning, to be sure"
Paper boy in flatcap: "'Ammers for the Cup! Who are ya? Who are ya?"
Asian street trader: "Cor, blimey"
Jamaican: "Strike a light, guv"
Asian street trader: "...if that bird ain't a right piece of skirt"
Young woman -for it is she- pushing a pram, smoking: "Oi! You watch yer mahrth! Show some manners wantcha -we 'got some fackin' kids liss'nin', avn' I!"
Jamaican, laughing: "Ha ha, you’s just been told my son!"
Credible gay character, on his way -sorry: on 'is way- to The Bucket Of Blood: "Praper naughty! Too fackin' right, me old china!"
Man in tinted shades, sheepskin: "Me old mo'or for sale, picture of 'ealth: twin engine, chrome plated plates, drives like a beauty -yars for a donkey! Cahm' on! I'm slashing me own throat 'ere!"
Unemployed barber: "Is all you 'got? Ain't got nuffin' else?"
Man in tinted shades: "Whazzat you ‘after? This is Lahrndahrn Tahrn son: I 'got it all! Luverly jubberly! Genuine Champers -bottled in Barking! Gold rings, gold medallions, gold knackledasters -three for a fiiiver!"
Fat man in suit: "Need to see a man abaht a dawg"
Kid with earrings: "Sorted!"
Grandmother, smoking: "Ssssafe."
Indian grocerer: "Stone the crows aincha dunnit innit Sid James me old mugger watchit Babs Windsor you slaaag blimey knahck me dahrn geezer bird you cahnt chim chimeney who are ya who are ya too fackin right hell's bells wonncha!"
Gentle narrator employed to give the moral of the story at the end of every episode: "And so I say... why don't we all less go dahrn the pub ‘hen?"
Ah yes, they inhabit a strange world in "EastEnders"... a strange world with totally arcane topics of conversation, dead incomprehensible to someone’s admittedly refined ears. It's true though: these Albert Square residents, they never –like- discuss Bertie’s latest financial oddities -he must be loving it, being given a break from these pesky financial auditors! The Old Vic has to be the only pub whose regulars never sounded much bothered by the new Civil War debate -namely: did Roy Keane walk out on his country or did he not? It is the one place where the very existence of Glenda Gilson has gone unnoticed. ...Truly we are baffled.
(to be continued)
Monday, 23 July 2012
YKY2.00 Prologue.3
Uma o'Gil presents:
"Now who is it I can now see with my little eye -no, not that one you filthy mind- enjoying a stroll with Socially Pitiable Dyslexic Martin Connolly? ...Could it be Famed Temptress Paula Brummingham? could it?? Rrrrr, Paula you femme fatale you!! Wouldn't kick her out of bed myself if she-Actually noooo... No actually, I'm not so sure. I'm not so sure it is her now... May not be Paula Brummingham after all. ... Can anyone confirm? Confirm / deny? Is it Paula or not? Try as I might, I can't see shit through this garden hedge! 'Feckers 'grown it just to hide their guests from us! ..... Ah well, then maybe not on second thought. Hmm. Let's say it isn't Famed Temptress Paula Brummingham. Could it be Tallaght transvestite Dickless Tracey then? Hmmmm, neither I don't think so... (Godfeckindammit, can anyone come to my assistance here!!) Now saddle me on a pushbike with a KwikSave groceries bag and drop me at your Nan viewers, but I'm afraid I can't recognise the young lady presently shaking her money-maker next to Society Sanctioned Connolly! How annoying. ...Any idea as to whom she may be, hired help Belinda?"
-Belinda: "Woh-oh Derek, hold your horse here! You're -like- putting me on a hot spot! That blonde wan with the poxy heels and the boring fur knickers? -Well 'feck me in a hole if I can tell who she is! Now then, let's try though...
'Is not Wild Child Lara Trompton-Mewsley is it? No. This one's not kicking any foreign waitress. Maybe Sizzling Rehab Breakout Saskia Cahill? No, neither: can't see no joint dangling from any part of her body... It wouldn't be Senator Marie Curzcnak, would it? "Clothes Show" presenter Eimear Callahan? Sunday Tabloid Front-Pager Niamh o'Namara? Euro Crumpet Maria Vilverde de San Antonio (y Chupas a Gogo)? I'm literally wrecking me brains here, Derek! Can't think of who on Earth -or Dublin town- she could possibly be, it's doing me bonce in something proper!
Well I suppose... at the end of the day, we'll just have to -Oh. My. God.- Oh my God a thought just occurred to me Derek. Surely, surely it couldn't be... it couldn't be? ... Could your woman be ...a nobody??" (horrified gasp)
-Derek: "Ah don't be being silly now Bels, let me remind you this is a sombre occasion here -I'll tell you what though, we'll leave it at that and pretend that I myself -Derek Whelan at your service ladies 'n gentlemen- have been left floundering for once. ... Only joking! I'm sure one of our inside people working the staff will be able to find out her name. Capisce? There's a tenner in the offing."
-Belinda: "What an inspired suggestion, Derek! Like -totally fresh yeah! A tenner to the good and make it double quick, people -But you know what, Derek? All of a sudden I'm thinking. ... I'm thinking there is NO WAY Blondie here can be a downclass though. Hear me out, yeah? If she actually managed to get in in the first place, she must be like -you know- ...worth it? Well worth and connected! ....Know what I mean? (wink wink)"
-Derek: "By the Bono you must be right Bels lass! The very least she must have got up to to gain admission must have been -ooh I don't know- sleep with half the security! A-ha!! Have we found ourselves a sexscandal or what? Live on TTE! Just fancy that, viewers: a steamy sordid sexscandal in this day of all days! Eros and tornadoes! Could this be for real??"
-Belinda: "Oooh, deadly, see me -I'm shivering all over! Who on Earth could be so sexmad and determined? Who? Who could be so outrageous? This is like... so totally!"
-Derek: "Couldn't agree more Belinda. But obviously mustn't get carried away. Would hate to speak out of turns. Huh huh. Not me, not Derek Whelan. Cos' remember Belso, we at TTE have a mission to uphold, standards to maintain. Our valued viewers look up to us -and that's what makes us the winners that we are"
-Belinda: "Well said, that!"
-Derek: "and what our valued viewers know, it's that we don't want to be bringing the tone down on this day of all days, we can't possibly insist on this shocking sexscandal -oh no, our viewers' probity is too much of a credit to us. So you see Belinda, if it turns out there is indeed any jumped-up hanky-panky going on at McDermot mansion well... Well we'll just have to be mature about it Belinda. That's what we'll content ourselves with doing: we'll just be mature about it. Whose business it is and how often they're at it, where does it take place and what sick fantasies are being enacted -that's for our respected host to deal with. We're mere observers and have a duty to suspend judgement on this perverted upstart. She managed to get in -fair play to her.
Because at TTE, we take our mission seriously, very seriously indeed. And I think you will agree"
-Belinda: "Oh, I agree Derek that"
-Derek: "-Hang on sweetchops I'm not finished- I think you will agree our viewers need to be informed don't they. They need to be informed, as is only right and proper for any self-respecting news outlet -and mark my words, TTE is that kind of responsible news outlet. Our viewers need to be told what's what / who's who. More to the point, they need to know what's going on within these private walls, and what the other channels keep them in the dark about. Like who the hell this slapper is; what sordid details she got up to -and whether she'll have the decency to attend the fecking mass!
Now then Belinda, mull this over for a second... Wouldn't you say I have a point here?"
-Belinda: "Like totally, Derek!"
-Derek: "Good girl yourself. So what I suppose I'm saying here is... What I'm saying here is this: let's our reason keep, and let's -for the sake of the argument- apprehend the current situation this way" (pause) "OK, so let's accept this foxy peroxide blonde has indeed been squeezing the vinegar strokes out our very own dyslexic Marty -as is her absolute right in a free country- ...then, then let me ask you this Belinda. If that's the shocking case, who knows what else is going on out there? What else under our very noses and treacherously hidden away from our viewers! The mind boggles. Still and let's be crystal clear Belinda, it is my firm and solemn belief it is our responsibility -nay our duty- to inform on such matters -and that's out of respect for our audience."
-Belinda: "Right on Derek. We sure are duty bounded and that's the TTE pledge."
/ Deep sigh, let it pass. Can't be seen to twitch, let's pretend I haven't heard that bit. /
"Oh but isn't it... The Man Himself? leading his famous castrated panda up the garden path?"
-Derek: "Eh? Who's that?"
-Belinda: "The scourge of celebrities! You know him already: Baz Guhrnam!! What's he doing here, I would of thought that he was banned!*"
* Bernard "Baz" Guhrnam, born 04/28/71 in Melbourne (Australia), founder of the "Capit'all" paparazzi photo agency. Guhrnam first came to prominence with his aggressive chasing of celebrities for "gonzo" stolen pictures. Credited with inventing the "snatch-it" genre through his own notorious celebrity magazine/website "Snatch", specializing in snapshots of harassed celebrities, often taken in highly personal circumstances (including in bathrooms), on the grounds that celebrities are by definition public property. Another notorious feature of Guhrnam's publications: engineered scuffles between the aforementioned celebrities and camera wielding "Snatch" employees. Although highly criticised, Guhrnam's magazine enjoyed continued and spectacular commercial success; it grew in aggression and scope (targeting politicians as well as athletes and artists) in spite of -or thanks to- high profile court cases. "Snatch" spawned "Puss" and "Chick", similar kinds of publications devoted to celebrities' offspring -often as young as a few days old. Its success inspired a wave of derivative and often anonymous publications/websites that in turn fell foul of the law, leading to drastic changes in the Irish legislation. Guhrnam's death (31/13/07), although officially attributed to drug-related causes, has been the subject of controversy in its own right, with his estate and conspiracy websites claiming he had been the subject of foul play.
-Derek: "Ah but you see Bels, your man Baz is a celebrity in his own right, truth be told: why, he sells millions, he's got every right! Besides, and I should like to imagine, better have him on your side than on your back right? (cough cough). The antipodean maverick eh... I like to think of him as a lovable rogue myself! See Belinda, Mads inviting him is probably a highly clever move: she may want to keep herself in the self-proclaimed King Of Yellow Slebreporting's good books, right? Makes perfect sense to me -surely your man won't be biting the proverbial hand. Fair play to her says I!"
-Belinda: "Fair play to you Derek. I'm not convinced though... His presence looks kinda fishy and dead queer to me... Funny looking fellow he is.
Ah what do I know eh, it's not like -say straight off me head- I would had ever got snapped sharing a man's toilet by one of his trash-can botherers did I? Only kidding, folks. Only kidding. I'm not called Helen.
Anyway! I like your man's pink DocMartens though -they're quite sexy actually. Very Dragon on a Saturday night. Talking of invites," (silly giggles) "-and maybe I shouldn't mention this but...- funny how I don't see Michael O'Leary or Heather McCartney anywhere... Could it be they didn't get an invite? Who would have thought!"
-Derek (giggling himself): "Oh but you're a terrible girl Belinda Savage so you are! Now then, let's not go there!"
-Belinda: "No let's not go there"
-Derek: "Let's not go there. Phew! Close shave. Oh my oh my... Michael O' Leary eh... Talk about bringing the tone down... (!!!) But you know what Belinda, I have to point something out though, with all this commotion, this highly entertaining chit-chat we've been treating our viewers to -I almost got thinking me, I have to point out there's just one thing..."
-Belinda: "Yes Derek, what is it?"
-Derek: "Well actually and believe it or not ...We still haven't caught a glimpse of the widow herself!!"
-Belinda: "Ohmygod you are so right here Derek, I nearly forgot myself about our Mads! Poor old Mads eh... Our one and only! The queen of the show! The one we've all been waiting for! Where must she be? 'She ready yet? 'She having her hair done or what? I wonder what must go through her mind at this stage of the game obviously she must be utterly devastated and she'll take one day at a time it never rains but pours thankfully time is a great healer -But seriously though. But seriously. What must she be thinking right now eh, do you reckon she's still in shock Derek? Do you think she'll ever recover? Obviously things will never be the same and there's only one Dougal"
-Derek: "Fergus"
-Belinda: "there's only one Fergus hopefully she'll find the strength, she'll find the strength to face up face up and gather herself for her guests put on a brave show who must be really wondering by now. They must be wondering what the feck she's up to and I'd say myself she must be chomping at the bit literally chomping at the bit to get on with it and let's get this show on the road isn't that right what do you think Derek?"
/ Get ready to switch to camera 3 on the signal... /
-Derek: "Funny you should say that Belzo, for look here but who's making her entrance right now... None other but talk about perfect timing!"
/ You heard the man... /
"Looking -I have to say- absolutely fabulous, here comes the widow walking up the garden path. 'Much as we can make out through this bleeding foliage, she looks every inch the perfect A-lister that she is -Class eh, 'simply can't buy it!"
-Belinda: "Mads is wearing a Jimy Chou hand-knit woolly dress, Donna Coran pecari hide handbag, Bukkake handkerchief up her left sleeve, vintage Tibetan chihuahua under her right elbow and two Rothko double-laced no-heels flat shoes"
-Derek: "I say Belinda, how impressive, don't be showing off now!"
-Belinda: "...or so my cards tell me."
-Derek: "(cough cough) I'm sure you're right here, I'm sure you're right! Perfect eyesight more like, perfect eyesight has our Belinda! Cos' you know what, folks? Cos' on the money -that's where we like to be at TTE! Spot-on and first with the news! All the thrills, spills, and accurate hair-products. We hope of course to be able to corner Mads later and get her very first reaction to her impressions -some hell of an exclusive not to be missed I dare say- but for the moment, for the time being she's only doing the sympathy rounds chatting to her card-accredited well-wishers -aren't they the lucky ones...
Now here's the deal. Here's the deal, lucky viewers. We ourselves may not be deployed on the ground, that is the Garden of Serenity and McFergus Enterprises Ltd ...we still have a right deadly joker up our very sleeve!"
-Belinda: "Have we?"
-Derek: "We have!"
-Belinda: "Tell us more oh Derek!" (claps her little hands)
-Derek: "If you insist Belinda. Now our viewers all know how much we hate blowing our own trumpet at TTE -oh no we don't- but the fact is, we have ourselves an absolute killer in store for yous we have, a -like- totally lethal surprise that will simply blow your collective socks off. 'Yous ready yet? So get this: yous need not fear missing out on any of the action ...for we have managed to get ourselves a lip-reader that'll decipher them condolences!!"
-Belinda: "No?!>? -Derek: "Yes!!!"
-Belinda "Far out Derek! This is like... -so totally! Fair play to you Derek! You've done it again big man!"
-Derek: "Why thank you Belinda, much obliged, and why don't you hang around after the show, come and see me later heh heh -anyhoo indeed we have, esclusively for TTE, a literally actual lip-reader that can read lips! How about that eh. 'Must say, I ain't half pleased with it, only goes to show we're right on the ball here at "Social Funeral"! Make no mistake, no expenses cut for us oh no, no corner's shaved when it comes to treat our valued viewers -so stick it up your pipe, ya RTE! It's one-nil to the TTE!
Now then. Now then let's get to it -let's get down to business. Hello lip-reader, welcome to the program and your name is...?"
-Gassarian: "Emir Gassarian."
-Derek: "?? Gassarian that's..." (laughing) "Doesn't sound quite Irish does it? 'Take it you weren't born within the walls of Rathmines were you now?"
-Gassarian: "Actually Derek, I live here -what...- twenty years at least. My parents originally emigrated from"
-Derek: "OK OK I'm sure they were right to so... Gossarian -since Gossarian it is- ...what can you tell us 's happening there? What are the guests saying? Here, take my binos -they're only lethal, they're Bigleux Binoculars- Start with those at the centre if you please, near the gold plated cherub statue"
-Gassarian: "Right. Now let me see....... Hmm.... hmm... right... hmm... OK. Well Derek, see this gentleman here, with the red feather boa and the green suit"
-Belinda: "I think you'll find that's TVfunnyman Damian. I think he's quite sexy actually."
-Gassarian: "Right then, TVfunnyman Damian, well he just was after saying to Madleen "I'm very sorry for your loss.""
-Derek: "Did he now?"
-Gassarian: "He did, and then repeated himself: "Oh yes, very sorry for your loss"; he's now added "My heart goes out to you.""
-Belinda: "Really? Not even a quick joke?"
-Gassarian: "None that I can see. Maybe you would like to hear what Madleen replied?"
-Derek: "By all means Grossarian, you go ahead."
-Gassarian: "She said "Why, thank you kindly Damo.""
-Belinda: "Huh that's just sh"
-Derek: "fanTAStic! That's just fantastic! Isn't it amazing, dear viewers? Isn't it heart-warming? to be able to penetrate the intimacy of your favourite stars -Don't know about you Bels', but I think it's just fab. It really brings it home: you can almost hear our Mads choking back her tears, it's like yous and me are right there in her sad little face! "Why, thank you kindly" that's just.. marvellous. So down to earth, no airs and graces for her eh -Totally levelling with common people is our Mads! Why, thanks a million Grozarian, good work that -and any more exciting revelation for us? What 'they saying now, what's the word on the mourning catwalk? Do tell us, we're all ears!"
-Gassarian: "Right er....... Miss Koszak is now saying to the 40-something lady in the leather tutu "How lovely to see you... how simply wonderful. Glad you could rake it -rake it??"
-Derek: "Fantastic! Isn't it fantastic dear viewers? Such humility, such grace -that's our Mads alright, 'right trooper she is, man of the people like, with a kind word for everyone and a nice gesture for each of them -What gas it must be for her guests, no wonder she got voted "the nicest person in the whole world" at our recent style awards -your woman's a class act pure and simple."
-Belinda: "She's the people's Personality she is!"
-Derek: "Amen to that! Ah yes, must admit I admire the hell out of her"
-Belinda: "Too right you are, Derek! She's like... tiptop! Couldn't have happened to a nicer soul!"
-Derek: "Couldn't indeed -It's me opinion and I'll stick by it! Ah yes, in these sad sad days of no manners, no manners and crass vulgarity, Mads "Madleen" Koszak stands out like the proverbial bacon of light and we could do worse -much worse- than take example on her is what I says. But back to our exclusive revelations live on TTE, tell us oh tell us er... Rozarian (??) -what 'she saying now? Our teleobjective shows her in deep converse with the holy man, what 'she telling him now? We're dying to know!"
-Gassarian: "Well Derek she er...... Couldn't quite catch the start of her sentence but... something about getting it (?) over and done with double quick, she's already late, needs to dash off to Sky TV for an inte"
-Derek: "Thank you that will be all! I think the last thing we need right now we don't want to intrude into Mads's private grief at this difficult juncture in her life this stage of the game and I guess I suppose you need to learn it'd do you good respect people's grief Gozzarian and show a little bit more respect that is if you don't mind some common decency our very own Queen of hearts she is after all -the People's favourite so."
...
-Gassarian: "Er sure... Sure, unquestionably. I certainly didn't mean to"
-Derek: "Thankyou. Thankyou that will be all. And I think that -actually as chance has it- I think we'll take a break now, we'll take a break -But stay with us yes, stay with TTE for we'll be right back -that's myself, Derek Whelan and Belinda Savage- we'll be right back after the news. So don't be switching off now, plenty more to come where these came from, but first... first the headlines with Clio Hartbyrne. Clio."
-Clio: "Derek.
*****
"The news headlines at fifteen past on TTE. In an announcement made less than 24 hours ago set to rock the music world to its very foundations, it has been suggested that the Spice Girls are considering reforming for a Greatest Tits tour. When asked about the possibility of seeing the most respected group in musical history since the Beatles come and perform the likes of "Lovin' me Lovin' me", "Let's Go Shopping" and "Wham Bam Moo" in Dublin anytime soon, a spokesman for their bank was understandably coy and refused to elaborate, insisting that any chance of this taking place in the foreseeable future had to be judged on its own merit.
It's official: Anna Nicole Smith will be buried next to her son. The pneumatic super -super- supermodel who recently sensationally died will be buried next to her son, a judge has decided. More on this, and the judge's actual name, exclusively in our news bulletin at three.
Officially Sexiest 63-going-on-65 Woman In The World Helen Mirren will battle it out with Dame Judi over two drama Baftas this evening in London. Helen Mirren is hotly tipped to beat the old crow.
Sport now, and Manchester United are preparing for the first leg of their semi-quarter preliminary finals of the HMV McDonald's MasterCard Euro DisneyWorld Championship DeLuxe against Sporting Katowice -the Red Devils are said to be feeling reasonably confident. However, manager Sir Alex Ferguson stressed the need to "take each game as they come" and "show the opponents respect". Manchester United are twenty to one on to win the tie.
Saint Mary Joseph Orphanage childabuse sexscandal latest: priests deny any involvement in the alleged rape, abuse, molestation, sexual exploitation, assault, beating, starving and otherwise general mistreatment of hundreds of mentally ill patients over a period of fifty years. The government ordered an open inquiry to look into the matter for the delectation of the general public -more details of the case to follow shortly.
The weather this morning: generally sunny with frequent showers, early frost might be expected at some stage. Night to fall later.
Last night's Lottery numbers: 0, 6, 9, 33, 62, 64, 70, 89, and 98. No winner has been declared yet.
All that coming up in just some moments' time, but first, very quickly, the rest of the news headlines: "The World In 30 Seconds".
The Iraq fuckup. Following Saddam's hanging, President W has declared himself "very happy"" (excerpt from a press conference by the President of the United States of America: "I am very happy.") -Our political commentator Sean Doherty to commentate on what W's enigmatic comment could possibly mean. Meanwhile, UK Prime Minister Tony wasted no time in commending President W's optimism for the future of Iraq (excerpt from Tony Blair's press conference: "And I say this onto you I want to make this very clear of this there can be no doubt no doubt whatsoever from every fibre of my heart since this is the people's Prime Minister speaking that we've always been very clear on this we need to send a strong message and a clear signal for in a very real sense and this I desperately believe -this is what it's all about.")
Stem cells debate: thebushadministration has forbidden the use of stem cells in medical research and has warned scientists the world over against their possible involvement in this godless technology. This will not be tolerated.
Inflation at an all-time high in Ireland: after the 0.2 % barrier was breached, the Opposition has accused the government of "driving this country to the dogs" and is calling for early elections.
Earthquake strikes in India: thousands feared dead, millions homeless.
And finally, global warming controversy: global warming has been hotly denied by some sources.
More on the Saint Mary Joseph Orphanage childabuse sexscandal and the rest of the news -at three o'clock on TTE. Moira."
*****
-Moira: "Clio. And that was the news headlines at two thirty. We now return to our main feature, "The Social Funeral Of The Week", with our special commentator Derek Whelan and his bus-based reporter Belinda Savage. Well. Let's hope that our special reporter is switched on today and doesn't get her A-listers mixed up again I mean... it's not like a certain someone would ever -for example- forget the name of Wazza's current toy boy would she?"
-Belinda: "Ooh-er, the dorrty cow! Just because that one escaped me momentarously, big fecking deal yeah! And where were you, Moira the great, during that seminal fashion moment when Naomi In Person slipped on the catwalk and nearly stumbled? Do remind us who it was that was on hand to report on this story!"
-Moira: "Well I... Funny you should mention that, dear ginger roots, because I actually have Nams on my very own "Haute Couture Against Racism Exposé Special" next month! She like happens to be one of my very best friends so -Nams and I, we go wayyy back, 'hear that sugarcheeks? Oops. Sorry. Didn't mean to let your oral specialty out of the bag!"
-Derek: "Ladies ladies, do stop it now! This very moment! ...or else I will just start to enjoy it. Hmm, right, yous do realise this is all an act, viewers? 'Bit of panto! Our Bels and Minnie here -they get on great like a schoolbus on fire they do! Isn't that right ladies?"
--------------------------------------------------tobecontinued------------------------------------
"Now who is it I can now see with my little eye -no, not that one you filthy mind- enjoying a stroll with Socially Pitiable Dyslexic Martin Connolly? ...Could it be Famed Temptress Paula Brummingham? could it?? Rrrrr, Paula you femme fatale you!! Wouldn't kick her out of bed myself if she-Actually noooo... No actually, I'm not so sure. I'm not so sure it is her now... May not be Paula Brummingham after all. ... Can anyone confirm? Confirm / deny? Is it Paula or not? Try as I might, I can't see shit through this garden hedge! 'Feckers 'grown it just to hide their guests from us! ..... Ah well, then maybe not on second thought. Hmm. Let's say it isn't Famed Temptress Paula Brummingham. Could it be Tallaght transvestite Dickless Tracey then? Hmmmm, neither I don't think so... (Godfeckindammit, can anyone come to my assistance here!!) Now saddle me on a pushbike with a KwikSave groceries bag and drop me at your Nan viewers, but I'm afraid I can't recognise the young lady presently shaking her money-maker next to Society Sanctioned Connolly! How annoying. ...Any idea as to whom she may be, hired help Belinda?"
-Belinda: "Woh-oh Derek, hold your horse here! You're -like- putting me on a hot spot! That blonde wan with the poxy heels and the boring fur knickers? -Well 'feck me in a hole if I can tell who she is! Now then, let's try though...
'Is not Wild Child Lara Trompton-Mewsley is it? No. This one's not kicking any foreign waitress. Maybe Sizzling Rehab Breakout Saskia Cahill? No, neither: can't see no joint dangling from any part of her body... It wouldn't be Senator Marie Curzcnak, would it? "Clothes Show" presenter Eimear Callahan? Sunday Tabloid Front-Pager Niamh o'Namara? Euro Crumpet Maria Vilverde de San Antonio (y Chupas a Gogo)? I'm literally wrecking me brains here, Derek! Can't think of who on Earth -or Dublin town- she could possibly be, it's doing me bonce in something proper!
Well I suppose... at the end of the day, we'll just have to -Oh. My. God.- Oh my God a thought just occurred to me Derek. Surely, surely it couldn't be... it couldn't be? ... Could your woman be ...a nobody??" (horrified gasp)
-Derek: "Ah don't be being silly now Bels, let me remind you this is a sombre occasion here -I'll tell you what though, we'll leave it at that and pretend that I myself -Derek Whelan at your service ladies 'n gentlemen- have been left floundering for once. ... Only joking! I'm sure one of our inside people working the staff will be able to find out her name. Capisce? There's a tenner in the offing."
-Belinda: "What an inspired suggestion, Derek! Like -totally fresh yeah! A tenner to the good and make it double quick, people -But you know what, Derek? All of a sudden I'm thinking. ... I'm thinking there is NO WAY Blondie here can be a downclass though. Hear me out, yeah? If she actually managed to get in in the first place, she must be like -you know- ...worth it? Well worth and connected! ....Know what I mean? (wink wink)"
-Derek: "By the Bono you must be right Bels lass! The very least she must have got up to to gain admission must have been -ooh I don't know- sleep with half the security! A-ha!! Have we found ourselves a sexscandal or what? Live on TTE! Just fancy that, viewers: a steamy sordid sexscandal in this day of all days! Eros and tornadoes! Could this be for real??"
-Belinda: "Oooh, deadly, see me -I'm shivering all over! Who on Earth could be so sexmad and determined? Who? Who could be so outrageous? This is like... so totally!"
-Derek: "Couldn't agree more Belinda. But obviously mustn't get carried away. Would hate to speak out of turns. Huh huh. Not me, not Derek Whelan. Cos' remember Belso, we at TTE have a mission to uphold, standards to maintain. Our valued viewers look up to us -and that's what makes us the winners that we are"
-Belinda: "Well said, that!"
-Derek: "and what our valued viewers know, it's that we don't want to be bringing the tone down on this day of all days, we can't possibly insist on this shocking sexscandal -oh no, our viewers' probity is too much of a credit to us. So you see Belinda, if it turns out there is indeed any jumped-up hanky-panky going on at McDermot mansion well... Well we'll just have to be mature about it Belinda. That's what we'll content ourselves with doing: we'll just be mature about it. Whose business it is and how often they're at it, where does it take place and what sick fantasies are being enacted -that's for our respected host to deal with. We're mere observers and have a duty to suspend judgement on this perverted upstart. She managed to get in -fair play to her.
Because at TTE, we take our mission seriously, very seriously indeed. And I think you will agree"
-Belinda: "Oh, I agree Derek that"
-Derek: "-Hang on sweetchops I'm not finished- I think you will agree our viewers need to be informed don't they. They need to be informed, as is only right and proper for any self-respecting news outlet -and mark my words, TTE is that kind of responsible news outlet. Our viewers need to be told what's what / who's who. More to the point, they need to know what's going on within these private walls, and what the other channels keep them in the dark about. Like who the hell this slapper is; what sordid details she got up to -and whether she'll have the decency to attend the fecking mass!
Now then Belinda, mull this over for a second... Wouldn't you say I have a point here?"
-Belinda: "Like totally, Derek!"
-Derek: "Good girl yourself. So what I suppose I'm saying here is... What I'm saying here is this: let's our reason keep, and let's -for the sake of the argument- apprehend the current situation this way" (pause) "OK, so let's accept this foxy peroxide blonde has indeed been squeezing the vinegar strokes out our very own dyslexic Marty -as is her absolute right in a free country- ...then, then let me ask you this Belinda. If that's the shocking case, who knows what else is going on out there? What else under our very noses and treacherously hidden away from our viewers! The mind boggles. Still and let's be crystal clear Belinda, it is my firm and solemn belief it is our responsibility -nay our duty- to inform on such matters -and that's out of respect for our audience."
-Belinda: "Right on Derek. We sure are duty bounded and that's the TTE pledge."
/ Deep sigh, let it pass. Can't be seen to twitch, let's pretend I haven't heard that bit. /
"Oh but isn't it... The Man Himself? leading his famous castrated panda up the garden path?"
-Derek: "Eh? Who's that?"
-Belinda: "The scourge of celebrities! You know him already: Baz Guhrnam!! What's he doing here, I would of thought that he was banned!*"
* Bernard "Baz" Guhrnam, born 04/28/71 in Melbourne (Australia), founder of the "Capit'all" paparazzi photo agency. Guhrnam first came to prominence with his aggressive chasing of celebrities for "gonzo" stolen pictures. Credited with inventing the "snatch-it" genre through his own notorious celebrity magazine/website "Snatch", specializing in snapshots of harassed celebrities, often taken in highly personal circumstances (including in bathrooms), on the grounds that celebrities are by definition public property. Another notorious feature of Guhrnam's publications: engineered scuffles between the aforementioned celebrities and camera wielding "Snatch" employees. Although highly criticised, Guhrnam's magazine enjoyed continued and spectacular commercial success; it grew in aggression and scope (targeting politicians as well as athletes and artists) in spite of -or thanks to- high profile court cases. "Snatch" spawned "Puss" and "Chick", similar kinds of publications devoted to celebrities' offspring -often as young as a few days old. Its success inspired a wave of derivative and often anonymous publications/websites that in turn fell foul of the law, leading to drastic changes in the Irish legislation. Guhrnam's death (31/13/07), although officially attributed to drug-related causes, has been the subject of controversy in its own right, with his estate and conspiracy websites claiming he had been the subject of foul play.
-Derek: "Ah but you see Bels, your man Baz is a celebrity in his own right, truth be told: why, he sells millions, he's got every right! Besides, and I should like to imagine, better have him on your side than on your back right? (cough cough). The antipodean maverick eh... I like to think of him as a lovable rogue myself! See Belinda, Mads inviting him is probably a highly clever move: she may want to keep herself in the self-proclaimed King Of Yellow Slebreporting's good books, right? Makes perfect sense to me -surely your man won't be biting the proverbial hand. Fair play to her says I!"
-Belinda: "Fair play to you Derek. I'm not convinced though... His presence looks kinda fishy and dead queer to me... Funny looking fellow he is.
Ah what do I know eh, it's not like -say straight off me head- I would had ever got snapped sharing a man's toilet by one of his trash-can botherers did I? Only kidding, folks. Only kidding. I'm not called Helen.
Anyway! I like your man's pink DocMartens though -they're quite sexy actually. Very Dragon on a Saturday night. Talking of invites," (silly giggles) "-and maybe I shouldn't mention this but...- funny how I don't see Michael O'Leary or Heather McCartney anywhere... Could it be they didn't get an invite? Who would have thought!"
-Derek (giggling himself): "Oh but you're a terrible girl Belinda Savage so you are! Now then, let's not go there!"
-Belinda: "No let's not go there"
-Derek: "Let's not go there. Phew! Close shave. Oh my oh my... Michael O' Leary eh... Talk about bringing the tone down... (!!!) But you know what Belinda, I have to point something out though, with all this commotion, this highly entertaining chit-chat we've been treating our viewers to -I almost got thinking me, I have to point out there's just one thing..."
-Belinda: "Yes Derek, what is it?"
-Derek: "Well actually and believe it or not ...We still haven't caught a glimpse of the widow herself!!"
-Belinda: "Ohmygod you are so right here Derek, I nearly forgot myself about our Mads! Poor old Mads eh... Our one and only! The queen of the show! The one we've all been waiting for! Where must she be? 'She ready yet? 'She having her hair done or what? I wonder what must go through her mind at this stage of the game obviously she must be utterly devastated and she'll take one day at a time it never rains but pours thankfully time is a great healer -But seriously though. But seriously. What must she be thinking right now eh, do you reckon she's still in shock Derek? Do you think she'll ever recover? Obviously things will never be the same and there's only one Dougal"
-Derek: "Fergus"
-Belinda: "there's only one Fergus hopefully she'll find the strength, she'll find the strength to face up face up and gather herself for her guests put on a brave show who must be really wondering by now. They must be wondering what the feck she's up to and I'd say myself she must be chomping at the bit literally chomping at the bit to get on with it and let's get this show on the road isn't that right what do you think Derek?"
/ Get ready to switch to camera 3 on the signal... /
-Derek: "Funny you should say that Belzo, for look here but who's making her entrance right now... None other but talk about perfect timing!"
/ You heard the man... /
"Looking -I have to say- absolutely fabulous, here comes the widow walking up the garden path. 'Much as we can make out through this bleeding foliage, she looks every inch the perfect A-lister that she is -Class eh, 'simply can't buy it!"
-Belinda: "Mads is wearing a Jimy Chou hand-knit woolly dress, Donna Coran pecari hide handbag, Bukkake handkerchief up her left sleeve, vintage Tibetan chihuahua under her right elbow and two Rothko double-laced no-heels flat shoes"
-Derek: "I say Belinda, how impressive, don't be showing off now!"
-Belinda: "...or so my cards tell me."
-Derek: "(cough cough) I'm sure you're right here, I'm sure you're right! Perfect eyesight more like, perfect eyesight has our Belinda! Cos' you know what, folks? Cos' on the money -that's where we like to be at TTE! Spot-on and first with the news! All the thrills, spills, and accurate hair-products. We hope of course to be able to corner Mads later and get her very first reaction to her impressions -some hell of an exclusive not to be missed I dare say- but for the moment, for the time being she's only doing the sympathy rounds chatting to her card-accredited well-wishers -aren't they the lucky ones...
Now here's the deal. Here's the deal, lucky viewers. We ourselves may not be deployed on the ground, that is the Garden of Serenity and McFergus Enterprises Ltd ...we still have a right deadly joker up our very sleeve!"
-Belinda: "Have we?"
-Derek: "We have!"
-Belinda: "Tell us more oh Derek!" (claps her little hands)
-Derek: "If you insist Belinda. Now our viewers all know how much we hate blowing our own trumpet at TTE -oh no we don't- but the fact is, we have ourselves an absolute killer in store for yous we have, a -like- totally lethal surprise that will simply blow your collective socks off. 'Yous ready yet? So get this: yous need not fear missing out on any of the action ...for we have managed to get ourselves a lip-reader that'll decipher them condolences!!"
-Belinda: "No?!>? -Derek: "Yes!!!"
-Belinda "Far out Derek! This is like... -so totally! Fair play to you Derek! You've done it again big man!"
-Derek: "Why thank you Belinda, much obliged, and why don't you hang around after the show, come and see me later heh heh -anyhoo indeed we have, esclusively for TTE, a literally actual lip-reader that can read lips! How about that eh. 'Must say, I ain't half pleased with it, only goes to show we're right on the ball here at "Social Funeral"! Make no mistake, no expenses cut for us oh no, no corner's shaved when it comes to treat our valued viewers -so stick it up your pipe, ya RTE! It's one-nil to the TTE!
Now then. Now then let's get to it -let's get down to business. Hello lip-reader, welcome to the program and your name is...?"
-Gassarian: "Emir Gassarian."
-Derek: "?? Gassarian that's..." (laughing) "Doesn't sound quite Irish does it? 'Take it you weren't born within the walls of Rathmines were you now?"
-Gassarian: "Actually Derek, I live here -what...- twenty years at least. My parents originally emigrated from"
-Derek: "OK OK I'm sure they were right to so... Gossarian -since Gossarian it is- ...what can you tell us 's happening there? What are the guests saying? Here, take my binos -they're only lethal, they're Bigleux Binoculars- Start with those at the centre if you please, near the gold plated cherub statue"
-Gassarian: "Right. Now let me see....... Hmm.... hmm... right... hmm... OK. Well Derek, see this gentleman here, with the red feather boa and the green suit"
-Belinda: "I think you'll find that's TVfunnyman Damian. I think he's quite sexy actually."
-Gassarian: "Right then, TVfunnyman Damian, well he just was after saying to Madleen "I'm very sorry for your loss.""
-Derek: "Did he now?"
-Gassarian: "He did, and then repeated himself: "Oh yes, very sorry for your loss"; he's now added "My heart goes out to you.""
-Belinda: "Really? Not even a quick joke?"
-Gassarian: "None that I can see. Maybe you would like to hear what Madleen replied?"
-Derek: "By all means Grossarian, you go ahead."
-Gassarian: "She said "Why, thank you kindly Damo.""
-Belinda: "Huh that's just sh"
-Derek: "fanTAStic! That's just fantastic! Isn't it amazing, dear viewers? Isn't it heart-warming? to be able to penetrate the intimacy of your favourite stars -Don't know about you Bels', but I think it's just fab. It really brings it home: you can almost hear our Mads choking back her tears, it's like yous and me are right there in her sad little face! "Why, thank you kindly" that's just.. marvellous. So down to earth, no airs and graces for her eh -Totally levelling with common people is our Mads! Why, thanks a million Grozarian, good work that -and any more exciting revelation for us? What 'they saying now, what's the word on the mourning catwalk? Do tell us, we're all ears!"
-Gassarian: "Right er....... Miss Koszak is now saying to the 40-something lady in the leather tutu "How lovely to see you... how simply wonderful. Glad you could rake it -rake it??"
-Derek: "Fantastic! Isn't it fantastic dear viewers? Such humility, such grace -that's our Mads alright, 'right trooper she is, man of the people like, with a kind word for everyone and a nice gesture for each of them -What gas it must be for her guests, no wonder she got voted "the nicest person in the whole world" at our recent style awards -your woman's a class act pure and simple."
-Belinda: "She's the people's Personality she is!"
-Derek: "Amen to that! Ah yes, must admit I admire the hell out of her"
-Belinda: "Too right you are, Derek! She's like... tiptop! Couldn't have happened to a nicer soul!"
-Derek: "Couldn't indeed -It's me opinion and I'll stick by it! Ah yes, in these sad sad days of no manners, no manners and crass vulgarity, Mads "Madleen" Koszak stands out like the proverbial bacon of light and we could do worse -much worse- than take example on her is what I says. But back to our exclusive revelations live on TTE, tell us oh tell us er... Rozarian (??) -what 'she saying now? Our teleobjective shows her in deep converse with the holy man, what 'she telling him now? We're dying to know!"
-Gassarian: "Well Derek she er...... Couldn't quite catch the start of her sentence but... something about getting it (?) over and done with double quick, she's already late, needs to dash off to Sky TV for an inte"
-Derek: "Thank you that will be all! I think the last thing we need right now we don't want to intrude into Mads's private grief at this difficult juncture in her life this stage of the game and I guess I suppose you need to learn it'd do you good respect people's grief Gozzarian and show a little bit more respect that is if you don't mind some common decency our very own Queen of hearts she is after all -the People's favourite so."
...
-Gassarian: "Er sure... Sure, unquestionably. I certainly didn't mean to"
-Derek: "Thankyou. Thankyou that will be all. And I think that -actually as chance has it- I think we'll take a break now, we'll take a break -But stay with us yes, stay with TTE for we'll be right back -that's myself, Derek Whelan and Belinda Savage- we'll be right back after the news. So don't be switching off now, plenty more to come where these came from, but first... first the headlines with Clio Hartbyrne. Clio."
-Clio: "Derek.
*****
"The news headlines at fifteen past on TTE. In an announcement made less than 24 hours ago set to rock the music world to its very foundations, it has been suggested that the Spice Girls are considering reforming for a Greatest Tits tour. When asked about the possibility of seeing the most respected group in musical history since the Beatles come and perform the likes of "Lovin' me Lovin' me", "Let's Go Shopping" and "Wham Bam Moo" in Dublin anytime soon, a spokesman for their bank was understandably coy and refused to elaborate, insisting that any chance of this taking place in the foreseeable future had to be judged on its own merit.
It's official: Anna Nicole Smith will be buried next to her son. The pneumatic super -super- supermodel who recently sensationally died will be buried next to her son, a judge has decided. More on this, and the judge's actual name, exclusively in our news bulletin at three.
Officially Sexiest 63-going-on-65 Woman In The World Helen Mirren will battle it out with Dame Judi over two drama Baftas this evening in London. Helen Mirren is hotly tipped to beat the old crow.
Sport now, and Manchester United are preparing for the first leg of their semi-quarter preliminary finals of the HMV McDonald's MasterCard Euro DisneyWorld Championship DeLuxe against Sporting Katowice -the Red Devils are said to be feeling reasonably confident. However, manager Sir Alex Ferguson stressed the need to "take each game as they come" and "show the opponents respect". Manchester United are twenty to one on to win the tie.
Saint Mary Joseph Orphanage childabuse sexscandal latest: priests deny any involvement in the alleged rape, abuse, molestation, sexual exploitation, assault, beating, starving and otherwise general mistreatment of hundreds of mentally ill patients over a period of fifty years. The government ordered an open inquiry to look into the matter for the delectation of the general public -more details of the case to follow shortly.
The weather this morning: generally sunny with frequent showers, early frost might be expected at some stage. Night to fall later.
Last night's Lottery numbers: 0, 6, 9, 33, 62, 64, 70, 89, and 98. No winner has been declared yet.
All that coming up in just some moments' time, but first, very quickly, the rest of the news headlines: "The World In 30 Seconds".
The Iraq fuckup. Following Saddam's hanging, President W has declared himself "very happy"" (excerpt from a press conference by the President of the United States of America: "I am very happy.") -Our political commentator Sean Doherty to commentate on what W's enigmatic comment could possibly mean. Meanwhile, UK Prime Minister Tony wasted no time in commending President W's optimism for the future of Iraq (excerpt from Tony Blair's press conference: "And I say this onto you I want to make this very clear of this there can be no doubt no doubt whatsoever from every fibre of my heart since this is the people's Prime Minister speaking that we've always been very clear on this we need to send a strong message and a clear signal for in a very real sense and this I desperately believe -this is what it's all about.")
Stem cells debate: thebushadministration has forbidden the use of stem cells in medical research and has warned scientists the world over against their possible involvement in this godless technology. This will not be tolerated.
Inflation at an all-time high in Ireland: after the 0.2 % barrier was breached, the Opposition has accused the government of "driving this country to the dogs" and is calling for early elections.
Earthquake strikes in India: thousands feared dead, millions homeless.
And finally, global warming controversy: global warming has been hotly denied by some sources.
More on the Saint Mary Joseph Orphanage childabuse sexscandal and the rest of the news -at three o'clock on TTE. Moira."
*****
-Moira: "Clio. And that was the news headlines at two thirty. We now return to our main feature, "The Social Funeral Of The Week", with our special commentator Derek Whelan and his bus-based reporter Belinda Savage. Well. Let's hope that our special reporter is switched on today and doesn't get her A-listers mixed up again I mean... it's not like a certain someone would ever -for example- forget the name of Wazza's current toy boy would she?"
-Belinda: "Ooh-er, the dorrty cow! Just because that one escaped me momentarously, big fecking deal yeah! And where were you, Moira the great, during that seminal fashion moment when Naomi In Person slipped on the catwalk and nearly stumbled? Do remind us who it was that was on hand to report on this story!"
-Moira: "Well I... Funny you should mention that, dear ginger roots, because I actually have Nams on my very own "Haute Couture Against Racism Exposé Special" next month! She like happens to be one of my very best friends so -Nams and I, we go wayyy back, 'hear that sugarcheeks? Oops. Sorry. Didn't mean to let your oral specialty out of the bag!"
-Derek: "Ladies ladies, do stop it now! This very moment! ...or else I will just start to enjoy it. Hmm, right, yous do realise this is all an act, viewers? 'Bit of panto! Our Bels and Minnie here -they get on great like a schoolbus on fire they do! Isn't that right ladies?"
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Wednesday, 18 July 2012
part 1 of "You Know Yourself 2.0" prologue
(please note that this is of course not the final version -a work is always "under construction" until it's sent off and printed) Coffee + vodka + grape juice, Arab Strap on. Uma o'Gil all rights reserved 0012.
---------------- Prologue (Funeral Of The Season) ---------------
-Moira: "And off we go now to Victoria Gardens for a very special live coverage of this week's Social Funeral brought to you by Carterouge Casinos -"Gambling is fun with Carterouge Casinos"- and to present this program Ladies 'n Gentlemen who better than please be upstanding for here he comes your host the man himself may I give you right away this very moment in person the one and only -Derek Whelan! ... Over to you Derek."
-Derek: "Moira."
-Moira: "Derek."
-Derek: "Moira.
For yes indeeeeed -and a very good afternoon to yous all- this is Derek Whelan speaking, 'hope you're feeling grand -myself smashing super, thanks for asking!-, Derek Whelan on the mike then welcoming yous to this week's Social Funeral "The Biiiiig One" as we find ourselves peering through the gate of the gooooorgeous summer residence of TV celebrity Madleen "Mads" Koszak. Ah yes peering we are -peering with both eyes open too- for we are gathered here today at this very place to pay tribute -nay- pay our deepest respects to Mads' s latest husband -or should I say ex-latest husband ha ha- property developer Dermot McFergus. Dermot, you may recall, is best remembered for giving Dublin a decisive hand -and a finger as well!- onto the ladder to its world class status ah yes by razing to the ground its unsightly tower blocks (tss tss!) and replacing them with the deliiightful McFergus Stables Co. Inc. Ltd. which are a veritable credit to our great horse-racing nation." (breathes in) "The McFergus Stables he literally built, and the "Liffey Riviera" golf course too for it was him -him!-, the man behind the brains of the "Liffey Riviera"! Him and no other!! So move over, you Donald Trump, move over, you greedy bling-bling developers: McFergus's the name! -And one suspects it'll always be. (At least until the corporate takeover.) The McFergus Stables then, the Liffey Riviera: out-stan-ding, simply out-stan-ding I'd say you would agree with me, such is your man's legacy. Memorable for all sorts of reasons, sticking out like nobody's business in our venerable town of proud heritage and grand tradition -that's the McFergus style! For your man was unafraid oh, he was unafraid to ruffle feathers -your man was simply deadly.
You know -I'll tell you some'-, people come up to me in the street -they come from all walks of life too-, they say: "Derek Derek, I was born here, right? I grow up here... maybe forty years, forty-five at the max -I know I know, I don't look a day over thirty-nine but- and I'll tell you what, pal: Dublin... It's like a different place altogether today, it's like it's not the same anymore it isn't -and that's all thanks to good Mr. McFergus yeah!!" And yes indeed a different place it most certainly is... Why, myself in person have spent many a happy hour shooting, er, shots onto the almond Riviera green: bull's eye! hole in one! trebles all round! It's always craic time at the Liffey Riviera so it is -but enough about me folks, let us all come together, today off all days, let us come together in a very real sense for the last one (literally) of Dermot McFergus. That's right, let us commune in Dermot's very special day, cos' it's all about him right? It's all about him. We don't just come here to celebrate him -we come to bury him."
(another breath)
"So now he's gone so he is -quite literally Dermot McFergus is now officially yesterday's, alleluia! ...how truly sad. Amen dear Dermot, fare thee well, God speed, and all these sorts of things. And now my friends, now we're mourning him, for yes we are, today our collective efforts are resting him to the ground where he belongs -amen to that! I don't mind telling yous folks, but back here in our van stationed outside Mads's mansion, there's simply not a dry eye in the house oh no! ...Fortunately Derek Whelan is on the case -oh yes we are- and yous my friends -yes yous- are in for a special treat -hell yeah- as we'll cover every single minute starting from the first second of our Dermot's special last day. In fact, I'll tell yous what: we have quite a treat in store for yous so we have! Like St-Paddy's, Cheltenham, Easter Friday and Christmas all at once and no mistake! So switch off the phone, loosen up the belt, grab a pizza and don't yous dare go anywhere for the next two hours -don't even think of nodding off! No toilet break allowed -think clever, recycle your bottle of Coke! No-but-serious, don't yous be wandering off anywhere and yous won't miss a minute of the ceremony! Dermot McFergus's Big Funeral! On TTE! -and it's coming live!!"
(little jingle)
"The action, the reactions, the full Monty, commentary by yours truly, it's all happening -and it's about to kick off right-about-now! Just look who's here who's decided to join us, the stars are out en force to celebrate Dermot's passing -Surely yous'll want to know, surely yous'll want to tell your clueless colleagues tomorrow around the cookie jar? Yous'll want to spill it to them: Like who's come to pay their homage? who didn't get an invite? and what oh what will they be wearing? Well we're just about to find out!!
As soon as we get the live feed, we'll even throw in the actual sermon delivered by Father De Visis no less! My ears on the ground already tell me that it will mainly consist of Revelations 23.69.123 ("and ye shall beget that which is humble unto ye forthwith yea God so there here endeth Ezebaiah's seed"), ingenuously mixed with some excerpts from Dermot's very own autobiography: Dermot McFergus-"Myself" (that's his third one that is, available in all good shops; failing that, it'll be at the Clondalkin's library for sure). Ah yes... The man himself... Who would have thought eh? Rags to riches... rashers to oil rigs... and yet the most sinceeere devotion to Our Lord the Saviour -That was our Dermot all right! Blessed be the man forevermore as millions of Dubs cross themselves at the mere mention of his name and the slightest of sights of his stables!
But first... first let's hand over to Moira for a quick recap of the forthcoming proceedings -Don't know about yous folks, but I can hardly wait myself!
Moira."
-Moira: "Derek."
-Derek: "Over to you."
-Moira "Over to me.
Right, and for those of yous who have only joined us, we are now bringing yous the premium coverage of Dermot McFergus's very own funeral. For Dermot McFergus was not just a renowned renovator of that great city of Dublin -and a brilliant mind at that-, he was also a devout Catholic. An industry baron, a builder, and yet a humble believer. His family has therefore insisted on a proper religious ceremony with all the trimmings and gold tassel which we will share with you lot in as much as the Parish will let us film.
This will constitute the first part of today's events.
We will then cross over to the burial grounds themselves in order to bring yous the actual laying down to earth -all the way down yes- thanks to our exclusive Camcopter for a better view of the action which we will then follow by bringing yous the excluuusive reactions of sample well-wishers if we can find any on the ground (they won't be in the air eh!). We then hope to be able to talk to Mads herself for some precious quality time: what must go through her mind at this moment in time, how will she cope without multimillionaire Dermot's loving presence, and what are her plans for her future with her adopted male model of a son? All this and much more ...in some moments' time.
We will then conclude our coverage with a quick voxpop of the man on the street as to what the passing of Dermot McFergus means to him exactly -please note that this may be shortened for technical reasons (such as whether we can find any English speaker.)
But first with your friendly host for this prestigious event.... to help us along the proceedings of what promises to be the funeral of the season so far, let's go straight to our very own Shoe Correspondent Belinda Savage sitting alongside Derek. Belinda."
-Belinda: "Moira."
-Moira: "Belinda. Afternoon-to-you and how-are-you-keeping Belinda."
-Belinda: "I'm doing grand why thank you Moira. Shoe Expert actually if you don't mind. ...Not all of us can be -whatchallit- "Haircut Specialist", see."
-Moira: "That's right Belinda, not everyone can tell the difference between a Paris Cumblast highlights and a Colm Bald Iroquois, can one? which I guess doesn't matter, though, when one is only required to describe people from a distance, right?"
-Belinda: "Right."
-Moira: "For sure."
-Belinda: "For real."
And this is why you are in the studio and I am the one in the filmomobile at this moment in time -End of.
This point of detail having been clarified for the benefit of our lovely viewers, we can now turn our thoughts to today's exciting occasion, what's already being billed the Funeral of the Season.
Forget about the "Santa Amorosa"'s duelling stars' crisscross acid bath and electrified toilet seat double demise, forget about Linda McMac's little boy drowning, forget even old miss Brady machine-gunned down to feck already -this, lovely viewers, this is tipped to be the one to look out for! This is it, no messin' about, the must-see event of the day, the absolute gas, the veritable meat on the bone, the grand-daddy of all Dub parties -this is the shit! Who will be there, who's wearing what, what generous sponsors have they conveyed to the occasion -everything you're dying to know (especially the lowdown on the deep and dirty) will be revealed! It's like Derek said, don't yous be thinking of hitting that remote control any time soon (or at least not before the end of my coverage) -you'd be a total muppet! Ask yourselves now: Do you want to be a muppet? Do you?? No, so there.
With me today to mark this occasion, I am very honoured to have a -like- superduper host who needs no introduction. / Groan, ten bucks say she's about to! / He is the man of a hundred openings, a thousand cocktails, a million infospecials on footballers' arrests: Mr. Derek Whelan In Person!! And may I just say, Derek, what an absolute honour it is to be literally sitting in your actual company on a day like this."
-Derek: "Why thanks a million Belinda -good girl yourself- cos' that's rrrright folks! coming at yous from the very scene itself live and direct, it is only me on the mike, aul' Derek Whelan to keep yous company -like Moira was just after telling yous, lovely audience, no longer than a moment ago actually."
-Belinda: "She sure did, did studio-bound Moira, she sure did, and aren't they lovely though Derek? I'd say they deserve their own shout-out, right? So helllllo lovely audience, we love you something massive! You're watching TTE -Enjoy!"
-Derek: "Alleluia! Now then, let's not get carried away Belinda, for we have serious business to attend to"
-Belinda: "Indeed we have Derek, as we are like totally mourning the passing of our -er- host today. ... Dergal McFergus."
-Derek: "Dermot. And so, like I was saying, the stars are out en force today to celebrate -nay: commiserate- the tragic end of Dermot's fatal life. All the big names are here, the biggest names in the country, they done us proud, they done us good, they have a heart of gold -and they're not afraid to exhibit it for our cameras.
My my my, let's get started already shall we? Now then... Who can I spot out there on the front porch with my little eye and my Bigleux binoculars if it isn't sex symbol Fran Cosgrave -the man in person! Fran Cosgrave, accompanied by flamboyant designer Keith Drugby ("flamboyant": 'know what I mean here? Nudge nudge wink wink!). Who else? There we can see, heiress to Duffy Sausages Ltd, mizz Susan Duffy, right fresh from her well-deserved vacation in the Maldives. Mizz Susan Duffy, and then TVfunnyman Baz the Boz (usually seen sparring on our channel with equally hilarious Finbar Moss and Father Moyles); TV soap diva Cillian Brandon; maneater shoe expert Tina McNamara (still in search of a catch-phrase); Genial Keith Duffy -looking very suave in a casual cashmere polo, very suave indeed-; Role Model for the children Deco Byrne (plays inside left-back for Shelbourne Rovers, that's who), Fran Cosgrave again -being escorted off the premises- oh, and many many more -Ah yes, what a turn-up!"
-Belinda: "Many many more for sure -Talking of which, Derek, isn't it your woman Claudie McBride I see out there chatting to Father Debifis?"
-Derek: "Tis indeed Belinda -well spotted our kid-, 'tis Claudie McBride and none other, Rob Duffy's girlfriend herself, resplendent in her salmon tracksuit and silver hand-bag -and don't forget the hat! Our Claudie sports a, er, seaweed green yoke with solid gold chains whipping her forehead -dead proper street. Right now, she's deep in talk with Father De Bisis so we sadly can't call her over and ask her how Rob's doing. Aw shucks, and what a sigh they make... Just look them two... Claudie certainly looks like she's able to hold her own with the best of them -even with men of the cloth!-, just check the way she's blowing breeze into Father De Bisis's face -it's like she hasn't got a care in the world!"
-Belinda: "Indeed she is, oh isn't she. Could it be -and I'm just vocalising aloud here- could it be she's more than a pair of double D reinforced? Could it? 'Tell you what though, 'would love to know what our Robbie has to say about her surely fascinating conversation... Not too impressed with her pumps either I am. Look mail order.
Now then, who else are we told is in attendance today... -Oh yes, camp champ Brian "Big Brother" Dowling; Daddy's Daughter Peaches Dullup -the very one who / adds her signature to these distressing shopping-lists of claptrap / writes these gripping and well-informed columns for "The Indo"; Tessa Turlington-Thawthorpe enjoying a joke with DJ Crassman here; ex-Justice Minister Malcolm McDowell; diminutive jockey Jock McFerguson; still no sign of any black person; Convicted Murderer Sensation Willo Byrne -ah but for the power of a new haircut!"
-Derek: "A new haircut for one ...and a good aul', hankies-out, TV confession exclusive for two Belinda! For -lest we forget- Willo's "My Bad" was the second highest rating on Early Evening Prime-Time National Cable TV last week -Beat that, Seamus Heaney! So anyway, here he is, everybody's favourite murderer, all cried out, already pardoned, enjoying a joke with Topless Model Lisa Burlington-Thornley -who shan't be displaying her magnificent breasts today since -so she told me this very morning through a paper I picked on a seat of the LUAS- "no fecker offered to cough up so" and at this stage I really must say -indulge me here Belinda- I really must say, we ought to name and shame whichever swine it was that refused her her due and prevented her from entertaining us in the manner we became accustomed to! (If only we knew who it was....) -Is all I have to say on this downright disgraceful state of affairs."
-Belinda: "Right you are, Derek. Good point well made."
-Derek: "But seriously Belinda -seriously- you tell me: What is the point of a zipped-up topless model? Eh?? What is it exactly? Has this world gone bonkers or what? It'd be like... it'd be like uprooting a soccer player from his pitch and asking him to hold a conversation! Or facing a member of the opposite sex stone cold sober!"
-Belinda: "Or trying to understand the plot of an American filum without watching its trailer first! What's the point!"
-Derek: "Precisely! What's the point! Well I ask you then!"
-Belinda: "You ask me!"
-Derek: "I ask you Belinda!"
-Belinda: "(???) Well I don't know for sure Derek... I can't really tell... (what da???)"
-Derek: "That's right Belinda: my point precisely: we just can't tell! It's not on, is what! It doesn't compute! Oh I don't know Belinda I just don't know, sometimes it seems to me... Seems to me we're experiencing a total lack of respect for our celebrated tarts -total lack of respect! Here, let me ask you this: how do you expect our small country to compete with the big boys out there and develop our very own Anna Nicole Smith ...when we have to suffer this flagrant attack of monetary correctness? Eh??"
-Belinda: "'Fecked if I know the answer to that! I must admit, Derek, you sure got me here... You are so right though: in this-day-n-age, surely our children could do with some positive role model yeah? Sure they do! I hear you good Derek: what example is this kind of behaviour setting? It's like... robbing our young wans of their future!"
-Derek: "Like totally, Belinda -and it's driving me fumes!! So here she is, our Lizzie in person, fannying about like la-di-dah D4 royalty, see her guzzling the Cointreau, see her nibbling at them tiny weenie rashers canapés -having a gay old time have we? And then look at them just look at them: two of the most lethal breasts in the whole of the Republic -still covered up at this stage of the game! That is brutal, that!"
-Belinda: "Too right you are! You tell 'em Dezz!"
-Derek: "Oh well, mustn't grumble I suppose -and it's Derek to you there's a good lass-, we'll have to make do with Plastic Surgery Disaster Marta Gronbowicz then. And there she is, top corner of your screen, hanging by the poolside bar -Point that fecking camera at her will you!- Marta is currently displaying her fifth nose job. This season, it is modelled after "a playful young cub" we are told. And very nice it is too."
-Belinda: "That's right Derek, I can also exclusively reveal Marta went for a "cheekbone readjustment procedure" earlier this year in order to resemble Natalia (?) Kinski. ...Or so she hoped." (Giggles.) "As we all know, she ended up looking like your woman after her fella's team has lost on penalties!"
-Derek, all cheerful: "Oh how we laughed Belinda, oh how we laughed indeed, but even that, that was nothing -compared to her earlier attempt to beat the world record of "beehive stung lips"! Oh happy days!!"
-Belinda: "Great craic that one, 'think I've still wet my knickers here... Half-hours upon half-hours of infotainment footage -Classic!"
-Derek: "Good old Marta eh... Still officially 33 after all these years you know, top girl herself..."
-Belinda: "She'll outlive us all Derek, she'll outlive us all..."
-Derek: "If she makes it past the next time she goes under. Which reminds me. Which reminds me, esteemed viewers: Throughout the course of this program, we have an exciting competition for your good selves to enjoy!"
-Belinda: "Indeed we have, oh lucky yous: an exciting competition courtesy of your very own TTE station, yay! Should be a grand one: nothing but the best for our viewers! But tell us more Derek, do tell us more!"
-Derek: "Right then, here goes. In association with Blurp Insurance -"Blurp Insurance, the power to"-, TTE offers yous the opportunity to spend a romantic evening at l'Escriteuuur Restaurant in Ballybollix Creek -with a full meal for two thrown in on top."
-Belinda: "Fancy!?"
-Derek: "A whole full meal (wine not included) on the week night of your choice, and all yous have to do to win yourselves this fabulous prize is... -now pay attention, here comes the question- ... tell us the name of the town that which has been so wonderfully revitalised by the current departed (Dermot McFergus, that is). Is it... A) Limerick? B) Dublin? or C) Timbuktu? Text your answer to the premium number which should be appearing on your screen now (low-call tariff may not apply). Best luck yourselves, and don't forget Blurp Insurance -"the power to".
/ Sometimes fun is the hardest thing to bear. /
---------------- Prologue (Funeral Of The Season) ---------------
-Moira: "And off we go now to Victoria Gardens for a very special live coverage of this week's Social Funeral brought to you by Carterouge Casinos -"Gambling is fun with Carterouge Casinos"- and to present this program Ladies 'n Gentlemen who better than please be upstanding for here he comes your host the man himself may I give you right away this very moment in person the one and only -Derek Whelan! ... Over to you Derek."
-Derek: "Moira."
-Moira: "Derek."
-Derek: "Moira.
For yes indeeeeed -and a very good afternoon to yous all- this is Derek Whelan speaking, 'hope you're feeling grand -myself smashing super, thanks for asking!-, Derek Whelan on the mike then welcoming yous to this week's Social Funeral "The Biiiiig One" as we find ourselves peering through the gate of the gooooorgeous summer residence of TV celebrity Madleen "Mads" Koszak. Ah yes peering we are -peering with both eyes open too- for we are gathered here today at this very place to pay tribute -nay- pay our deepest respects to Mads' s latest husband -or should I say ex-latest husband ha ha- property developer Dermot McFergus. Dermot, you may recall, is best remembered for giving Dublin a decisive hand -and a finger as well!- onto the ladder to its world class status ah yes by razing to the ground its unsightly tower blocks (tss tss!) and replacing them with the deliiightful McFergus Stables Co. Inc. Ltd. which are a veritable credit to our great horse-racing nation." (breathes in) "The McFergus Stables he literally built, and the "Liffey Riviera" golf course too for it was him -him!-, the man behind the brains of the "Liffey Riviera"! Him and no other!! So move over, you Donald Trump, move over, you greedy bling-bling developers: McFergus's the name! -And one suspects it'll always be. (At least until the corporate takeover.) The McFergus Stables then, the Liffey Riviera: out-stan-ding, simply out-stan-ding I'd say you would agree with me, such is your man's legacy. Memorable for all sorts of reasons, sticking out like nobody's business in our venerable town of proud heritage and grand tradition -that's the McFergus style! For your man was unafraid oh, he was unafraid to ruffle feathers -your man was simply deadly.
You know -I'll tell you some'-, people come up to me in the street -they come from all walks of life too-, they say: "Derek Derek, I was born here, right? I grow up here... maybe forty years, forty-five at the max -I know I know, I don't look a day over thirty-nine but- and I'll tell you what, pal: Dublin... It's like a different place altogether today, it's like it's not the same anymore it isn't -and that's all thanks to good Mr. McFergus yeah!!" And yes indeed a different place it most certainly is... Why, myself in person have spent many a happy hour shooting, er, shots onto the almond Riviera green: bull's eye! hole in one! trebles all round! It's always craic time at the Liffey Riviera so it is -but enough about me folks, let us all come together, today off all days, let us come together in a very real sense for the last one (literally) of Dermot McFergus. That's right, let us commune in Dermot's very special day, cos' it's all about him right? It's all about him. We don't just come here to celebrate him -we come to bury him."
(another breath)
"So now he's gone so he is -quite literally Dermot McFergus is now officially yesterday's, alleluia! ...how truly sad. Amen dear Dermot, fare thee well, God speed, and all these sorts of things. And now my friends, now we're mourning him, for yes we are, today our collective efforts are resting him to the ground where he belongs -amen to that! I don't mind telling yous folks, but back here in our van stationed outside Mads's mansion, there's simply not a dry eye in the house oh no! ...Fortunately Derek Whelan is on the case -oh yes we are- and yous my friends -yes yous- are in for a special treat -hell yeah- as we'll cover every single minute starting from the first second of our Dermot's special last day. In fact, I'll tell yous what: we have quite a treat in store for yous so we have! Like St-Paddy's, Cheltenham, Easter Friday and Christmas all at once and no mistake! So switch off the phone, loosen up the belt, grab a pizza and don't yous dare go anywhere for the next two hours -don't even think of nodding off! No toilet break allowed -think clever, recycle your bottle of Coke! No-but-serious, don't yous be wandering off anywhere and yous won't miss a minute of the ceremony! Dermot McFergus's Big Funeral! On TTE! -and it's coming live!!"
(little jingle)
"The action, the reactions, the full Monty, commentary by yours truly, it's all happening -and it's about to kick off right-about-now! Just look who's here who's decided to join us, the stars are out en force to celebrate Dermot's passing -Surely yous'll want to know, surely yous'll want to tell your clueless colleagues tomorrow around the cookie jar? Yous'll want to spill it to them: Like who's come to pay their homage? who didn't get an invite? and what oh what will they be wearing? Well we're just about to find out!!
As soon as we get the live feed, we'll even throw in the actual sermon delivered by Father De Visis no less! My ears on the ground already tell me that it will mainly consist of Revelations 23.69.123 ("and ye shall beget that which is humble unto ye forthwith yea God so there here endeth Ezebaiah's seed"), ingenuously mixed with some excerpts from Dermot's very own autobiography: Dermot McFergus-"Myself" (that's his third one that is, available in all good shops; failing that, it'll be at the Clondalkin's library for sure). Ah yes... The man himself... Who would have thought eh? Rags to riches... rashers to oil rigs... and yet the most sinceeere devotion to Our Lord the Saviour -That was our Dermot all right! Blessed be the man forevermore as millions of Dubs cross themselves at the mere mention of his name and the slightest of sights of his stables!
But first... first let's hand over to Moira for a quick recap of the forthcoming proceedings -Don't know about yous folks, but I can hardly wait myself!
Moira."
-Moira: "Derek."
-Derek: "Over to you."
-Moira "Over to me.
Right, and for those of yous who have only joined us, we are now bringing yous the premium coverage of Dermot McFergus's very own funeral. For Dermot McFergus was not just a renowned renovator of that great city of Dublin -and a brilliant mind at that-, he was also a devout Catholic. An industry baron, a builder, and yet a humble believer. His family has therefore insisted on a proper religious ceremony with all the trimmings and gold tassel which we will share with you lot in as much as the Parish will let us film.
This will constitute the first part of today's events.
We will then cross over to the burial grounds themselves in order to bring yous the actual laying down to earth -all the way down yes- thanks to our exclusive Camcopter for a better view of the action which we will then follow by bringing yous the excluuusive reactions of sample well-wishers if we can find any on the ground (they won't be in the air eh!). We then hope to be able to talk to Mads herself for some precious quality time: what must go through her mind at this moment in time, how will she cope without multimillionaire Dermot's loving presence, and what are her plans for her future with her adopted male model of a son? All this and much more ...in some moments' time.
We will then conclude our coverage with a quick voxpop of the man on the street as to what the passing of Dermot McFergus means to him exactly -please note that this may be shortened for technical reasons (such as whether we can find any English speaker.)
But first with your friendly host for this prestigious event.... to help us along the proceedings of what promises to be the funeral of the season so far, let's go straight to our very own Shoe Correspondent Belinda Savage sitting alongside Derek. Belinda."
-Belinda: "Moira."
-Moira: "Belinda. Afternoon-to-you and how-are-you-keeping Belinda."
-Belinda: "I'm doing grand why thank you Moira. Shoe Expert actually if you don't mind. ...Not all of us can be -whatchallit- "Haircut Specialist", see."
-Moira: "That's right Belinda, not everyone can tell the difference between a Paris Cumblast highlights and a Colm Bald Iroquois, can one? which I guess doesn't matter, though, when one is only required to describe people from a distance, right?"
-Belinda: "Right."
-Moira: "For sure."
-Belinda: "For real."
And this is why you are in the studio and I am the one in the filmomobile at this moment in time -End of.
This point of detail having been clarified for the benefit of our lovely viewers, we can now turn our thoughts to today's exciting occasion, what's already being billed the Funeral of the Season.
Forget about the "Santa Amorosa"'s duelling stars' crisscross acid bath and electrified toilet seat double demise, forget about Linda McMac's little boy drowning, forget even old miss Brady machine-gunned down to feck already -this, lovely viewers, this is tipped to be the one to look out for! This is it, no messin' about, the must-see event of the day, the absolute gas, the veritable meat on the bone, the grand-daddy of all Dub parties -this is the shit! Who will be there, who's wearing what, what generous sponsors have they conveyed to the occasion -everything you're dying to know (especially the lowdown on the deep and dirty) will be revealed! It's like Derek said, don't yous be thinking of hitting that remote control any time soon (or at least not before the end of my coverage) -you'd be a total muppet! Ask yourselves now: Do you want to be a muppet? Do you?? No, so there.
With me today to mark this occasion, I am very honoured to have a -like- superduper host who needs no introduction. / Groan, ten bucks say she's about to! / He is the man of a hundred openings, a thousand cocktails, a million infospecials on footballers' arrests: Mr. Derek Whelan In Person!! And may I just say, Derek, what an absolute honour it is to be literally sitting in your actual company on a day like this."
-Derek: "Why thanks a million Belinda -good girl yourself- cos' that's rrrright folks! coming at yous from the very scene itself live and direct, it is only me on the mike, aul' Derek Whelan to keep yous company -like Moira was just after telling yous, lovely audience, no longer than a moment ago actually."
-Belinda: "She sure did, did studio-bound Moira, she sure did, and aren't they lovely though Derek? I'd say they deserve their own shout-out, right? So helllllo lovely audience, we love you something massive! You're watching TTE -Enjoy!"
-Derek: "Alleluia! Now then, let's not get carried away Belinda, for we have serious business to attend to"
-Belinda: "Indeed we have Derek, as we are like totally mourning the passing of our -er- host today. ... Dergal McFergus."
-Derek: "Dermot. And so, like I was saying, the stars are out en force today to celebrate -nay: commiserate- the tragic end of Dermot's fatal life. All the big names are here, the biggest names in the country, they done us proud, they done us good, they have a heart of gold -and they're not afraid to exhibit it for our cameras.
My my my, let's get started already shall we? Now then... Who can I spot out there on the front porch with my little eye and my Bigleux binoculars if it isn't sex symbol Fran Cosgrave -the man in person! Fran Cosgrave, accompanied by flamboyant designer Keith Drugby ("flamboyant": 'know what I mean here? Nudge nudge wink wink!). Who else? There we can see, heiress to Duffy Sausages Ltd, mizz Susan Duffy, right fresh from her well-deserved vacation in the Maldives. Mizz Susan Duffy, and then TVfunnyman Baz the Boz (usually seen sparring on our channel with equally hilarious Finbar Moss and Father Moyles); TV soap diva Cillian Brandon; maneater shoe expert Tina McNamara (still in search of a catch-phrase); Genial Keith Duffy -looking very suave in a casual cashmere polo, very suave indeed-; Role Model for the children Deco Byrne (plays inside left-back for Shelbourne Rovers, that's who), Fran Cosgrave again -being escorted off the premises- oh, and many many more -Ah yes, what a turn-up!"
-Belinda: "Many many more for sure -Talking of which, Derek, isn't it your woman Claudie McBride I see out there chatting to Father Debifis?"
-Derek: "Tis indeed Belinda -well spotted our kid-, 'tis Claudie McBride and none other, Rob Duffy's girlfriend herself, resplendent in her salmon tracksuit and silver hand-bag -and don't forget the hat! Our Claudie sports a, er, seaweed green yoke with solid gold chains whipping her forehead -dead proper street. Right now, she's deep in talk with Father De Bisis so we sadly can't call her over and ask her how Rob's doing. Aw shucks, and what a sigh they make... Just look them two... Claudie certainly looks like she's able to hold her own with the best of them -even with men of the cloth!-, just check the way she's blowing breeze into Father De Bisis's face -it's like she hasn't got a care in the world!"
-Belinda: "Indeed she is, oh isn't she. Could it be -and I'm just vocalising aloud here- could it be she's more than a pair of double D reinforced? Could it? 'Tell you what though, 'would love to know what our Robbie has to say about her surely fascinating conversation... Not too impressed with her pumps either I am. Look mail order.
Now then, who else are we told is in attendance today... -Oh yes, camp champ Brian "Big Brother" Dowling; Daddy's Daughter Peaches Dullup -the very one who / adds her signature to these distressing shopping-lists of claptrap / writes these gripping and well-informed columns for "The Indo"; Tessa Turlington-Thawthorpe enjoying a joke with DJ Crassman here; ex-Justice Minister Malcolm McDowell; diminutive jockey Jock McFerguson; still no sign of any black person; Convicted Murderer Sensation Willo Byrne -ah but for the power of a new haircut!"
-Derek: "A new haircut for one ...and a good aul', hankies-out, TV confession exclusive for two Belinda! For -lest we forget- Willo's "My Bad" was the second highest rating on Early Evening Prime-Time National Cable TV last week -Beat that, Seamus Heaney! So anyway, here he is, everybody's favourite murderer, all cried out, already pardoned, enjoying a joke with Topless Model Lisa Burlington-Thornley -who shan't be displaying her magnificent breasts today since -so she told me this very morning through a paper I picked on a seat of the LUAS- "no fecker offered to cough up so" and at this stage I really must say -indulge me here Belinda- I really must say, we ought to name and shame whichever swine it was that refused her her due and prevented her from entertaining us in the manner we became accustomed to! (If only we knew who it was....) -Is all I have to say on this downright disgraceful state of affairs."
-Belinda: "Right you are, Derek. Good point well made."
-Derek: "But seriously Belinda -seriously- you tell me: What is the point of a zipped-up topless model? Eh?? What is it exactly? Has this world gone bonkers or what? It'd be like... it'd be like uprooting a soccer player from his pitch and asking him to hold a conversation! Or facing a member of the opposite sex stone cold sober!"
-Belinda: "Or trying to understand the plot of an American filum without watching its trailer first! What's the point!"
-Derek: "Precisely! What's the point! Well I ask you then!"
-Belinda: "You ask me!"
-Derek: "I ask you Belinda!"
-Belinda: "(???) Well I don't know for sure Derek... I can't really tell... (what da???)"
-Derek: "That's right Belinda: my point precisely: we just can't tell! It's not on, is what! It doesn't compute! Oh I don't know Belinda I just don't know, sometimes it seems to me... Seems to me we're experiencing a total lack of respect for our celebrated tarts -total lack of respect! Here, let me ask you this: how do you expect our small country to compete with the big boys out there and develop our very own Anna Nicole Smith ...when we have to suffer this flagrant attack of monetary correctness? Eh??"
-Belinda: "'Fecked if I know the answer to that! I must admit, Derek, you sure got me here... You are so right though: in this-day-n-age, surely our children could do with some positive role model yeah? Sure they do! I hear you good Derek: what example is this kind of behaviour setting? It's like... robbing our young wans of their future!"
-Derek: "Like totally, Belinda -and it's driving me fumes!! So here she is, our Lizzie in person, fannying about like la-di-dah D4 royalty, see her guzzling the Cointreau, see her nibbling at them tiny weenie rashers canapés -having a gay old time have we? And then look at them just look at them: two of the most lethal breasts in the whole of the Republic -still covered up at this stage of the game! That is brutal, that!"
-Belinda: "Too right you are! You tell 'em Dezz!"
-Derek: "Oh well, mustn't grumble I suppose -and it's Derek to you there's a good lass-, we'll have to make do with Plastic Surgery Disaster Marta Gronbowicz then. And there she is, top corner of your screen, hanging by the poolside bar -Point that fecking camera at her will you!- Marta is currently displaying her fifth nose job. This season, it is modelled after "a playful young cub" we are told. And very nice it is too."
-Belinda: "That's right Derek, I can also exclusively reveal Marta went for a "cheekbone readjustment procedure" earlier this year in order to resemble Natalia (?) Kinski. ...Or so she hoped." (Giggles.) "As we all know, she ended up looking like your woman after her fella's team has lost on penalties!"
-Derek, all cheerful: "Oh how we laughed Belinda, oh how we laughed indeed, but even that, that was nothing -compared to her earlier attempt to beat the world record of "beehive stung lips"! Oh happy days!!"
-Belinda: "Great craic that one, 'think I've still wet my knickers here... Half-hours upon half-hours of infotainment footage -Classic!"
-Derek: "Good old Marta eh... Still officially 33 after all these years you know, top girl herself..."
-Belinda: "She'll outlive us all Derek, she'll outlive us all..."
-Derek: "If she makes it past the next time she goes under. Which reminds me. Which reminds me, esteemed viewers: Throughout the course of this program, we have an exciting competition for your good selves to enjoy!"
-Belinda: "Indeed we have, oh lucky yous: an exciting competition courtesy of your very own TTE station, yay! Should be a grand one: nothing but the best for our viewers! But tell us more Derek, do tell us more!"
-Derek: "Right then, here goes. In association with Blurp Insurance -"Blurp Insurance, the power to"-, TTE offers yous the opportunity to spend a romantic evening at l'Escriteuuur Restaurant in Ballybollix Creek -with a full meal for two thrown in on top."
-Belinda: "Fancy!?"
-Derek: "A whole full meal (wine not included) on the week night of your choice, and all yous have to do to win yourselves this fabulous prize is... -now pay attention, here comes the question- ... tell us the name of the town that which has been so wonderfully revitalised by the current departed (Dermot McFergus, that is). Is it... A) Limerick? B) Dublin? or C) Timbuktu? Text your answer to the premium number which should be appearing on your screen now (low-call tariff may not apply). Best luck yourselves, and don't forget Blurp Insurance -"the power to".
/ Sometimes fun is the hardest thing to bear. /
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