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 »

About these ads

Comfortably Dumb

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Sweatpants

Cause – Rodriguez


So yesterday a couple of lights, bombs, bells and whistles exploded off in my head. It’s a been a while. Epiphany on. I was talking to a guy who asked me a simple enough question:

What have you been doing lately?

Rattled off the usual replies.

This.

That.

The gibber.

Grand. As you duu. Until he asked a follow up: Continue Reading »

LonDumb – Part IV (Or… Kneed A Dwarf In The Face.)

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Skunk (Continuing on from… LonDumb – Part I LonDumb – Part II LonDumb – Part III)

Parklife – Blur


“Want some skunk geezer?”
Pardon?
“Some skunk?”
Do I want a skunk?
“Yeah. Want to buy?”
Why would I buy a skunk?
“You being funny?”
Am I being funny?
“You is being funny, pretty boy.”
Oh Jesus.

So I get out of the tube. East London. Not sure what part. But already it looks dodge. Balls. Never considered this when booking stand-up gigs. Presumed central-ish would be grand. Anywhere close enough to Picadilly. This seemed close. And it was. Just also dodge. Hmm. Not sure which way to go either. East? Which way did I come out? I’ll head to that Starbucks, do some sussing. Oh right, just up the road a bit? Cheers boss, and an espresso to go. So I’m back strolling up the street. Convinced Starbucks guy pointed me in the right direction. Looking for a venue whose name is now eluding me. King’s Arms? King’s Cross? Queen Bishop? No clue. Oh yeah, the Goat’s Head? I think that’s it. Hang on, what does this dodgy looking hooded dude want… Pardon? Oh right, I think he’s trying to sell me some skunk. No clue what the funk that is but- He’s getting angry. Time to walk faster. Hey hup. Quicken the pace, hang 0n, giddy up, the Shepherd’s Cross, found the place, in I go, skunk, back up away to funk! Continue Reading »

A Hollywood Christmess Story

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Sant

In Dulci Jubilo – Mike Oldfield


Merry Christmas RanDummies and mighty blogaruu readers! Hope you are still getting your turkey sweats on. While you do, why not enjoy this piece which I wrote for an Irish paper recently. Pants off. Trifle. On!

A Hollywood Christmess Story

Is that Slash? Hmm. Is he looking at me? Hmm. Not sure. Is it him? Is he real? Am I drunk? What’s going on? Hmm. I’m going back for a kip.

Next morn. Stephen’s Day. Boxing Day? Not sure what they call it here in L.A. Eyes open. I’m on a couch at Robbie Williams’ house. Awake. Alone. Alive. Stiff back. Slept awkwardly. No sign of Slash. No sign of anyone. All left. Or upstairs. Sleeping. Sensible folk. Unlike me and my dry mouth. Tastes like glue. And so this is Christmas. Continue Reading »

Boys Town To Manhattan!

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New York New York – Frank Sinatra


So I land. Collect my bag. Walk out the airport doors. Cross the zebra crossing. And hear a guy stuck in traffic shouting at me out of his mini van window. “Welcome to New York, you’re going to rock it in this city, am I right?!” Before I get a chance to reply Why yes sir, I certainly hope so! he adds on… “And I hope you get raped!!” OK? Thanks? Oh Jesus. I’m in New York. Continue Reading »

I Shot The Sheriff…

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Angelina/Zooma Zooma – Louis Prima


Blog. Book. Sitcom. Movie. You know the plan! Time to get phase three in action. So I write a script. Pick a scene. Let’s shoot that. What do I need? Director? Sorted. Cast? Dancing. Location? Hmm. Actually. How about the Irish coffee shop down the street from me? Especially as the script is called the Irish Coffee Shop. Down I go. Talk to the owner. They agree. Just pay a fee. Oh. Yeah. No worries. Good to go. And we’re on the road! Continue Reading »