Half Naked, Half Leprechaun, One Third Potato

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Irish LA

Can’t beat being on the front page of a newspaper wearing a leprechaun hat. Couldn’t find a version online so here’s the original gibber. Recent radio interview too where I ramble on and on and on. New book PREDUMB out soon. Narcissistic levels reaching new high.

Mountain Dew – The Clancy Brothers

Blacks, whites, Asians, Native Americans, almost everyone I’ve met since I came to L.A. claims to be Irish in one way or another. At first it annoyed me purely because their logic was so ridiculous.

One guy told me one night at a party “I’m Irish too!” Oh yeah, what part are you from? “Ohio.” Oh really? I wasn’t aware that was in Ireland. “Yeah, it’s not.” And then he walked away.

Another guy later remarked Continue Reading »

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PreDumb Chapter – Hairdresser Hayes

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Hairdresser Hayes

I had been dreading going into fifth year purely down to Dirk coming to stay with me. The German students were due back for two weeks at the start of October for their portion of student exchange. At least we got two weeks off class at the start of the year to go do more work experience.

Despite the fact I was now sixteen, meant to be more mature and entering an important year of school, dossing off class was always a highly attractive incentive. Still, the thought of hanging around with Dirk and having him in my house was depressing. If only I had a secret indoor pool and gym area to keep hidden from him. Alas, I didn’t. The gods did smile down on me though.

Two weeks before they were due to arrive our German teacher Ms. O’ Golden informed me that Dirk had failed his summer exams and his repeats. This would mean Dirk had to repeat the entire year. He wouldn’t be able to come stay with me in Ireland.

“What? Seriously? No way!”

Did a victory lap of the classroom in celebration. Couldn’t believe my luck. The Mirk and Dirk Show had been canceled!

Ms. O’ Golden waited until I calmed down before telling me another boy had asked to take his place, Marcus.

“Oh yeah, I remember him. He got us tickets to the soccer game.”

Marcus reminded me a bit of Barney, the purple dinosaur children’s character. Tall and goofy, with a big fluffy head of light brown hair that just bobbed around as he spoke with a smile.  Good laugh when I met him that time at the soccer game before. Still though, do I want him staying with me?

“So would you mind if he stayed with you instead? It’s up to you entirely, you’re not obliged.”

“In that case I would mind. I prefer to have no one stay with me.”

Very particular, at the time. Liked to Continue Reading »

Miami Vice. Very Nice.

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South Beach

Boogie Shoes – KC & The Sunshine Band

Winning Streak. Back in the day this was the main TV game show in Ireland. Might still be. Contestants would go on and spin a wheel or guess something and win money. The easy part was winning. The hard part was getting on. I think you had to buy a scratch card and get three star icons. This then meant you could send the scratch card in where it was put in a drum and each week on the show the name of three lucky contestants would be drawn. Lot of hoops. But. If you ever made it on, you were going to win something. A brand new Opel car! Ohhh. Two thousand euro! Wow. A luxurious holiday away for two! Dear Jesus. I think one extra lucky person at the end got a chance to ‘Spin the Wheel’ where the top prize was 500,000 euro. Something like that.

The wheel was basically a vertical roulette table with different sections indicating different prize amounts. A ping pong ball would be dropped in at the bottom and the extra lucky person would spin the wheel. The nation would then watch the ball dart around the wheel, bouncing along until it slowly came to a stop. Wherever the ball landed, that was your prize. Usually it would hop between 250,000 and 2,000 on the wheel, so you’d get the old “Is she going to win the big prize, is she, she is, she just won-” Ball hops one more time – “2,000 euro”. Ohhh, so close. The softly spoken presenter, who might have previously been a priest, would then say “Unlucky Mary but at least you got something. Aren’t you happy?” “I am” Mary would reply as she waves goodbye at the camera, her family in the audience hold up their banners and flags saying ‘GOOD GIRL MARY!’ ‘UP TYRONE!’ ‘COME ON THE PARISH!’

Classic show. Easy to see why Continue Reading »

RanDumb Teaser… An Irish-American Classic.

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Made this a while ago for TV meetings and the likes. Tease on, as they say. Here’s the tale of it all -> I Shot The Sheriff. Sticking it up for Paddy’s Day, how wonderful. RanDumber shall be free this weekend too so keep on eye out for that. Spread the glorious gibber. Watch on!

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LonDumb – Part III

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Stage

Continuing on from LonDumb – Part I and LonDumb – Part II

Everything’s Gonna Be All Right (Oliver Nelson Remix) – Barry Manilow

So I’m at Will Call. On my right, a big huge queue. Chunky as funk. Balls, I’m going to be here ages. Steward nudges me inside the line. Thank you. Actually. Is this the only queue? Not unless I’m picking up VIP tickets? Actually, boss, I am! Points me to the walkway on the left hand side. Oh yeah. I see a V and an I and a P over that window down there. Skip on. Swoop the golden (purple) ticket. Take a look. Robbie Williams. O2 Arena. All access. AAA. Good to go. Let’s get this show on the road! Handed a map with my ticket. You are here. Go all the way over there. OK. This a way. Start strolling through the arena. Big old place. Bucket load of people. Toe to heel. Slow walkers. Place is packed. Feels like I’m at a soccer match. Except instead of everyone being here to see twenty two players on a pitch, they’re all here to see one man sing. Pretty cool. Rob’s poster all over the shop. Groups of fans singing songs. Daughters, sisters, mothers. All giddy. All ready. All aboard!

Five minutes later I’m still walking through throngs of people. Novelty has worn off. Out of me way. Kind of late, ish. Past the F gate. Scuttle past the G section. Get to H, holy ground. Although, huge queue at this gate too. Line snaking up and down and up and down and keeps on going. Huh? Thought I was getting VIPed through, all these people are too? This is a disgrace, I say! Ask a steward – Am I in the right place? Looks at my ticket. Almost drops to his knee. ‘My lord, I am not worthy.’ Starts kissing my hand and asking for my forgiveness. Kind of odd. Tell him to get up. Ask again if this is the right place where I should be? ‘Follow me!’ Drops what he’s doing (barricading a burly woman from skipping the queue). Parts the red sea for me. Through the crowd. Points to the H gate, the other one. Oh, right, mighty. Beckons to another steward, fills him in quickly about who I am (a triple A ticket holder!). They both then form a King’s throne for me with their arms and carry me seated the rest of the way to my entrance. Nice chaps, Ollie and Tim, I made sure to tip them well. (Never leave home without a tissue!) Continue Reading »

My Bleak Week.

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July – Mundy

Bleak. Reek. Eek. What a week. Funk me, eh, peek.

So I’m out Sunday night doing stand-up in a placed called Flappers out in Burbank. Sound people in charge. No apeness. No ridiculousness going on back stage. All good. First time doing a gay centric show. Didn’t realise it was one until it began. The name – Beyond The Rainbow – should’ve given it away. I thought they were having an Irish/leprechaun/pot of gold kind of night. Nay. Gay. Good old hoot. Gay folk know how to Continue Reading »