Half A Giraffe

The comedy stylings of the pleasantly deranged

Monthly Archives: August 2010

Skanger Olympics

Sunday, 29 August 2010 by Kevin Dowling

Burberry sponsored the events

This year Dublin City Council and the Minister for Sport & Tourism were on show with the usual repetoir of political goons vying for face time with cameras at the launch of the 52nd Olympics. The 2010 games are being held in Dublin, which is for many the spiritual home of the games.

“It’s wonderful to have such a prestigious event in our fine capital city,” said Lord Mayor Something-or-other as her B.A. Barackus chain was almost stolen by some of the Olympians.

Yes, in the late summer for most countries in Europe begins the real summer for Ireland – as it only gets warm when the kids go back to school. And in that heatwave of just-above 20-degree heat, Dublin will host the 52nd iteration of the Skanger Olympics.

Unlike their big brother, the Olympic Games, or even their hilariously challenged cousin, the Paralympics, these games are not held in run down suburban areas with the aim to regenerate them with stadia and economic drive from sponsors and athlete camps. No, in the Skanger Olympics events are held in upper-crust locations in order to create a more balanced society. As such, other then Glasnevin, every one of the games are being held on the Southside of the city.

The Swandive event is one of the most popular, where competing Skangers from the world over will dive gracefully into Grand Canal Dock from as high an apartment as possible. The medals are awarded based on how much jewelry athletes can obtain from the occupants’ abodes. It will be tough for the Irish entrants to beat the current champion, Aleksandr Wycoski.

Aleksandr Wycoski

The Urban Landscaping event is one the Northern Irish contingent are usually quite good at. This event involves flattening as much land as possible with as many explosives as possible. Bonus points are awarded for craters and damage caused to nearby buildings or vehicles.

One of the main events is, of course, the racing event. This is where athletes show up to a shopping centre car park and do nothing for 3 hours until a police helicopter pilot gets some practice hours in with flashing his torch aimlessly at neon-clad cars. The winner is chosen by whoever manages to stay in the car park last as others flee the impending police raid. Bonus points are awarded for the length of time the police take to find drugs in the car.

The finals are held in the D4 Radisson Hotel. They don’t know that yet, though, but a full featured game of FIFA starring Irish and French immigrant communities will be held. This is not a game of soccer, but rather a game of FIFA. On the Playstation. In the lobby. With booze brought from the local Tesco.

Tickets for each event are free as it is likely that you will be robbed of all your possessions while there. Foursquare and other location-based systems will be deactivated for the city to avoid letting skangers know that you’re at the games – leaving your home liable to robbery.

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Posted in Featured Writer |

How To Get Famous!

Wednesday, 25 August 2010 by Rory Cashin

Are you a hot young wannabe who is looking for the fast-track to fame, but you don’t want to break your moral code and do nasty things on the casting couch? Are you a has-been borderline celeb who is looking for a way back onto the cover of the National Enquirer? Well, let Half A Giraffe help you! We’ve compiled a list of the must-do’s and must-have’s if you want to get famous… and STAY famous!

Rehab

When it comes to rehab, there are only two things that matter. The first is what you’re in rehab for.  Alcohol has been done to death, and sex addiction was all the rage there for a while, but its run its course. Drugs are due for a massive comeback, with cocaine due to make a kitschy return to fashionable. Beat the rush and stock up now before the price by gram sky-rockets!

The second thing that matters is where you rehab. Betty Ford Clinics are for the really old (30′s and over), so right now its all about isolated islands in the middle of the Caribbean. Although we have just got word that they’ve opened up a new “detoxicification station” just on the rim of the active volcano Erebus in Antarctica, so that could be worth looking into.

Sex Tape

The list of celebrities who have appeared in a sex tape reads like a Venn Diagram of the most popular and the most talented people in Hollywood: Paris Hilton, Colin Farrell, Pamela Anderson, Fred Durst, Kim Kardashian, Verne Troyer… Basically everyone you’ve ever wanted to be. And up until recently, sex tapes were a surefire way of getting publicity, and then Dustin Diamond came along and wrecked it for everyone. But there is a way of salvaging this effort, by taking the Lindsay Lohan idea of fauxmosexuality and doing a lesbian sex tape. Unfortunately for all you guys out there, doing a gay sex tape isn’t going to work because Hollywood doesn’t want its leading men out and proud.

Entirely unrelated to my previous sentence.

You’re just going to have to wait til 2017 when bisexuality is “in” again. These things are cyclical, there’s charts and algorhythms and everything. Its all very Fashionating!

Prison Sentence

We’re not saying you should go murder someone and get sentenced to life imprisonment (because thats not going to help anybody), but maybe just a little traffic violation stuff, or drug misdemeanours, something cute like that. Ladies, we don’t want you coming out in 30 days time with shank scars on your face, and guys, we certainly don’t want you coming out with a new found fear of dropping soap in the shower.

A few weeks out of the spotlight might actually do you some good. Maybe you could write your memoirs? Take up a new hobby? Try out that new fad that everyone is on about? (This season its all about the Paleolithic Diet.) The world is your oyster!

Retirement

This choice may seem like an oxymoron, but there’s nothing the public wants more than what they can’t have. The second you announce your retirement, your back catalogue will start flying off the shelves like hot cakes. How many times has Jay-Z retired now? Four? Seventeen? We’ve lost count. But every time he unretires, his comeback album goes platinum and he makes a shitload of money. The guy knows how to retire.

But its no longer an old mans game. Stars are retiring at a younger and younger age now, with Amanda Bynes (24), Michael Cera (22) and Hilary Duff (23) all talking about bowing out from the employment racket. Our advice to you would be to get famous as young as possible, so you can quit showbusiness in your mid-to-late teens. Any later than that and you may already be too old to retire.

Insanity

This option for fame is cutting edge, and is currently being proto-tested by only one celebrity so far. The documentary “I’m Still Here: The Lost Years of Joaquin Phoenix” is currently doing the festival rounds, so we won’t know how effective a form of fame-mongering it is until later this year.  There is some confusion as to whether or not Mel Gibson and Christian Bale are also applying themselves to the Insanity Method, but after some investigations it turns out that they are, in fact, just a couple of dickheads.

So there you have it ladies and gentlemen, your five-step plan to easy famous-ness. If it all goes horribly wrong though, do us a favour and keep us out of the suicide note.

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Posted in Staff Writer |

Dinner with the boss

Monday, 23 August 2010 by Ben Keenan

“Wilson!”, the boss bellowed at me from behind. I yelped, but nobody seemed too bothed. “I’m having a few people from the office over tomorrow night for dinner. You’ll be there?”

“I’ll be there?” I enquired.

“Capital!”, and with that he boomed off.

“That was fast”, said Phiddle, beside me. Phiddle used to be called Phil, but then he got into rap music and it all got a bit complicated. I tried to shake his hand just last week, but got confused in the ceremony and intricacies and had to lie down.

“It was?”

“You’d better bring that bird of yours”

Oh fuck. I’d been telling them all about my beautiful new girlfriend, showed them digital photographs of her from Facebook.

"My Girlfriend"

But of course, I’ve never had a girlfriend. I wouldn’t know what to do to one if I found one! While that problem would be easily solved (prostitute), I didn’t know what to do about the dinner party. More precisely, I didn’t know what to do AT the dinner party. I’d been in hospitals or other institutions most of my life, until I got this job. I didn’t want to lose it by being impolite. I tried reading from the internet about how to behave at a dinner party, but it was complicated and conflicting. It seemed to boil down to laughing, using cutlery properly, and not touching the other guests, which was easy for me ’cause judge said I’m not allowed anyway. I got one of my headaches, so I went to sit in the toilet for a bit. It was cool and quiet, and the smell soothed me.

When I woke up and got the feeling back in my legs, everyone had gone home, so I went to the park for a while until they came back and I went into work again, but not before booking my prostitute. I got a really nice one, she could read and smelled clean. Important to be classy.

It's important to have a good prostitute

I typed many of my favourite numbers into a spreadsheet for a few hours. I didn’t break for lunch because I wanted to make a good impression on the boss by appearing to be productive, and I also wanted to be very hungry for his meal.

When the whistle blew, I followed my boss to his car. He told me not to after a while, so I waited in some bushes and then went to see my prostitute friend. She wanted to be paid up front, so I gave her some of my paycheques. I expected trouble but she seemed to be familiar with dealing with that form of payment; she had the rights forms with her and everything. They were in her briefcase. She may have been a little bit formally-dressed, but she was certainly classy.

We went to my boss’ house to see him and his girlfriend. His girlfriend was a bit strange. She was very nice and polite, but she was really big and strong, and hairy, and had a deep voice. And a funny name, she introduced herself as ‘William’.

We were waiting for a while for the food to be ready. Phiddle had somehow been roped into coming along too, he said, but he didn’t mind because now the secret was out, he said, though it was gross, he said. There was a bowl of crisps on the table. I was ravenous, but didn’t want to be rude, so I took out my knife and fork and started trying to eat them. I made a terrible mess before someone came over to stop me, which took a while because everyone was watching my boss and William make out all the time. A couple of them said it was sick and wrong, but while she wasn’t very ladylike, William and my boss seemed to have a very healthy relationship.

At dinner, everyone got drunk, especially me, but especially my prostitute. She got into an argument about immigrants with William and after a while, called him a cocksucker and went to the bathroom. She had to leave then, as we walked down the drive, she told me she did a poo in one of William’s shoes. I said “I don’t think William will be pleased you did a poo in her shoe”. She just looked at me for about a minute and said “That rhymes”

The next day the man downstairs said I wasn’t allowed into work any more. I asked him if it was because my prostitute took a poo in my boss’ girlfriend’s shoe. He said no, he said “It’s Saturday, you poofter-loving wanker”.

“Thank you”, I said and shook his hand before leaving for the park. The ducks would be leaving soon, I had business to attend to until Monday.

Posted in Staff Writer |

Sweeny Todd

Thursday, 19 August 2010 by Ciaran McNamee

I like music. Hell, if it weren’t for issues relating to it being an inexplicable theoretical abstraction, and financial constraints, I’d marry it. And so, coins in hand, dreams of lively gay entertainment and A STORY I COULD RELATE TO occupying my opened mind, I jauntily hopscotched my way into the cinema, scoffing popcorn, my ruddy boyish features aglow with anticipation.

The heavy cinema doors were pulled closed behind me, with a distant yet solid metal thud, resonating throughout the screening chamber. The hairs on the back on my neck were standing on end, just the way they were the day my dog died. I sat into the designated seating quietly and opened my minstrels. There were no trailers.

At about 8.30 last night the film was suddenly reeled through the projector and into my formerly stable brain. Images, the songs, why did they have no tune, but Johnny Depp….he’s a good actor…I like music what is this… I like horror films, Johnny Depp’s a good actor….why is it in almost black and white,

It didn’t stop. The film kept going. A use of Lorentz transformations in my head put the films actual length somewhere around 2 1/2 -3 hours, when you adjust for the psychological relativity of it’s 5 billion hour running time. The squirming started at about t = 45 mins, I couldn’t sit and directly look at the film, first just my legs then my entire torso, flipping one way then the other, arms tightly folded,….my watch maybe if I sharpen it’s strap on my teeth I can fashion a blade and this could all be over…why do the songs have no tunes!!! oh god, I love everybody why would they do this to me. Sharpen the watch, sharpen the watch.

The film broke into utter nonsensical babblry repeatedly, the work of a cruel sadist slightly drawing me in only to savage my ideas of it’s plot with inexplicable later additions. Obvious revelations, they’re so obvious, I thought we were meant to know them, saved, salivated upon, lingering till the very end with an oh so dramatic anti-climax they were thrown upon us, mercilessly obviously, the screen laughed as I cried, this isn’t fair. Sharpen the watch on your teeth old boy, one slash of the carotid artery and this could all be over.

And then, what’s this, a joke, I’m laughing I’m actually laughing. Somewhere in the past my soul, now beyond recovery would have rested, the light hearted merriment of the occasion providing a welcome break and release from tension. But not here. My neck muscles tightened and contorted as my teeth gnashed my cheeks and gums into a bloody pulping mess. Rainbows appeared, the sickening perversion of a colour starved mind in it’s final flings of resistance. Another melody-less song, I try to scream as pain resonates through my mashed up tongue.

And then the lights come on, the heavy submarine door opens. The cinema is empty, having never being filled. Gentle colours flicker across the room, at first only subtle hue’s, but later full blown chromatic scales dancing adrift the world in a manner I can identify with. I walk out those doors. It’s winter now. The cold bites me, but brings me back to home, the roaring in my head subsiding to make way for the biting pain of the elements. I hear a child singing, I clutch at my ears in reflexive defense, don’t let the sound in, don’t let it in. In the silence, as I watch the snow gently make it’s way towards the earth, I realise that now I am a man. The worst film I have ever seen has made me a man.

Posted in Featured, Staff Writer |

Danny Dyer vs HIV

Tuesday, 17 August 2010 by Stephen Kilroy

Actor Danny Dyer assembles band of mates to combat the increase in HIV.

By Chazz Whitehead

Danny Dyer, renowned ‘Ard man’ of British art house cinema, has released a statement today discussing his new community development programme ‘Dyer Straights’. This new force has been setup to combat beatings/muggings within the South London district. Over the last several months white vans have been reported in the area as having targeted innocent passersby and ‘havin their way with ‘em’. Dyer’s statement reads as follows:

“I wood like to address da horrifyin situation dat has been plaguing our streets, ryght. There’s these bunch of CUNTS, ryght, ho’ve been havin a ryght ole lauf, innit, with ourz people. They’re nuthin but a bunch of bummers. We are ‘ere to provide protection against dis spread of HIV (Homo’s in vans). Let you be warned, me an’ da lads will give you a right pucker if you cross us. Citizens of landen, fear not, ‘Dyer’s Straights’ will tackle dis problem head first. We stand behind you, ready to whack those cocks.”

When pressed further on how he came up with scheme, he exclaimed: “Well I done tis flick awhile ago with dat bitch from The Ex-Files. It woz called… ‘Straightheads’, ence da name of da scheme. Anyway, I had to play a fella whoz brutally attacked by a bunch of blokes. Da police do nuthin ‘bout it, so da couple decide to go after ‘em. Da film examines da emotional and sexual issues caused by both da original attack and da decision to seek revenge. Plus I got to suck Scully’s tits. So dis gave me the idea to do sumthin ‘bout the attacks.”

Unfortunately, Danny himself was victim of one such attack.

They done touch me 'ere

However, he had not been a 100% truthful regarding the encounter. His girlfriend Tanya had noticed Danny’s behaviour becoming erratic. He would be found soaked in the bathtub fully clothed. Every time a football game or his own show ‘Danny Dyer’s Deadliest Men’ would appear on TV he would breakdown into a flood of tears.

Tanya decided to seek a friend’s advice. It was decided that the best solution was to have an intervention with friends and family. The intervention took place at a local darts tournament. At first Danny tried to laugh off the concern, avoiding the issue with drinking games and offerings of Zoo magazine. But when they persisted, he lifted his t-shirt to reveal several months of sadomasochistic punishment. Bruises and scars lined his chest.

“I gone don it to as a sense of punishment for being buggered by those attackers and havin enjoyed it.” Shortly afterwards he was sent to a psychiatrist to delve into his deep-seated issues, there he learned to harness his guilt and convert it into vengeance, and thus strengthening his decision to continue to follow through on his promise to the public to rid the area of HIV.

Danny can next be seen starring in the West end musical ‘The Birdcage’.

‘Dyer’s Straights’ is a strictly non-profit organisation,  however, any or all proceeds go to Stringfellows nightclub to promote education for the girls.

Posted in Featured Writer |

The Incredible Likeness of Bean

Monday, 16 August 2010 by Gemma Creagh

BBC news report 2007:

A middle-aged man from Highbury in North London has claimed responsibility for the bombings that have been terrorising the British people over the past five years. Previously attributed to a number of terrorist organisations, these destructive acts have struck fear into the nation as well as resulting in 2 fatalities, 48 injuries and subsequent damages with costs reaching into the millions

.

Originally, police were baffled by the choice of locations; with the Odeon Leicester Square cinema, a public pool, a cross-country train and a London Country Leyland National bus among the list of targets. However they managed to narrow down their investigation to one central area. Also on several occasions, witnesses had spotted a lime green British Leyland Mini 1000 fleeing the scene and it was this that led the police to their suspect.

The man was arrested yesterday evening at his home. His neighbours have spoken out, going on record as saying he was: “quite obviously, and very seriously mentally ill” and “unable to maintain even the most basic social communication”. Some alluded at his severe anti-social behaviours which exhibited themselves at a New Year’s party a number of years ago, and one said that he carried a child’s doll around with him.

In 1998, the police were called to his apartment after reports that some sort of explosions could be heard on his floor. At the time he had explained to the police that he had been “decorating”. However no evidence of explosives were found at the scene and he was not charged and let away with a warning.

To put an end to the media debate about his motives, the bomber, who still refuses to divulge his first name, released this statement to the press:

“I couldn’t take the ridicule anymore – I wanted people to take me seriously but they were always making fun of my speech impediment and odd physical movements. I suffered from many ailments as a child and they have greatly impeded upon my life as an adult.

Everywhere I went, people were laughing at me. The doctors call me schizophrenic, because sometimes, I’d be struggling, getting changed on a beach alone… and I’d hear them. People. Laughing. The voices were always there, when I went to art class or went shopping; even on holidays I couldn’t escape it. When Matilda left me, it was the last straw. I knew what I had to do – I had to destroy those memories; to make them stop laughing.”

Mugshot

The bomber has pleaded guilty to a number of other offences including an assault on the Queen back in 1990– and is currently being held in custody in central London.

On a lighter note, his actions have gotten the attention of filmmakers across the Atlantic. His odd mannerisms and behaviours are inspiration for an upcoming Hollywood release:

–Heath Ledger’s character in Christopher Nolan’s ‘The Dark Knight’.

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Posted in Featured, Staff Writer |

Half A Giraffe Does America!

Thursday, 12 August 2010 by Rory Cashin

With the prices of flights to America so damned high, HaG took the cheaper option and just swam there.

Actually, let me rephrase. All of HaG except Big Boss Ben swam there. Appearantly there was just enough money in the budget for him to get a ticket on the QE2.

One of these is small. One of these is far away.

Once we get back to our hotel room, HaG does a bit of spending money counting.

Getting our Freakum Suit on for our night out on the town!

First stop? Empire State Building.

Next; Times Square. Getting drunk...

Enough walking around, time to get drunk in the pool.

Having had a wee bit too much, time to take a disco nap in a giant hammock.

Recharged, we show off our mad badminton skillz to the laydeez.

FTW!

The next morning, we leg it before the ladies wake up and demand their money, so off we go on a drive to the other side of the country.

We stop off at the Hoover Dam. It reminds us how constipated we've been since we arrived here.

Next stop, The Grand Canyon. Alot of introspective, life-defining, navel gazing thinking done here. And navel gazing is particularly difficult when you're half a giraffe.

The next stop was Las Vegas, but our lawyers tell us that the images were far too explicit and retch inducing to publish. So here's another picture of the Grand Canyon.

The highlight of the trip. And also our shuttle back to the Atlantic Ocean so we can begin our swim home. (Big Boss Ben: recommissioned a Concorde for his return trip)

Special thanks to:

- Alan Duffy (photographer)

- Lindsay Cashin (security)

- Simone Doherty (escort services)

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Posted in photo gallery, Staff Writer |

The Google Strangler

Monday, 9 August 2010 by Ben Keenan

The following came through our electronic emailbox this morning. It was in the typewriting of an old friend of ours, Willard Fredrickson. He taught us all how to laugh first when we were discussing becoming a comedy group as young children. I present it here in its unedited form, as a sign of respect to our troubled, but wonderful mentor.

This is cocking important, so listen the fuck up. We’re in serious trouble here, people.

The Google Strangler

The Google Strangler has over a hundred victims already, and you could be next. “But how do you know?”, I hear you ask. “Shut the fuck up and listen so I can tell you”, you hear me retort.

Not your average serial killer

TGS has been active since the early 80′s, though he was known as the Usenet Strangler back then. He started out on message boards, offering middle-aged men handjobs in exchange for giving him verbal abuse, but when they would meet face-to-face, he would simply strangle them to death instead. This may sound harmless enough, but it has escalated and is now way out of hand. I’ve been working on this case in an unofficial (and possibly illegal) capacity for the last three years and have pieced together enough of the story to bring it to the world and finally blow the lid right off.

The piddly stuff back in the early days where he would attack men in person individually is long since over and gone and over and done with and gone. With the advent of Web 2.0 and superhypermegafast bandwidth, he’s gone global, online and viral, attacking people en masse, like some sort of cyber-Hitler.

Before you scoff, this isn’t your run of the mill internet psycho, or some stupid spammy serial killer. TGS uses sophisticated, hi-tech methods. He has even killed a couple of high-profile celebrities. Heath Ledger, Michael Hutchins and David Carradine all fell into his honeytraps and paid the ultimate price.

What’s his MO? He attacks only men, and uses a lethal vector: Sex.

You may have had some close brushes with him already. Examine the following questionnaire.

  1. Have you ever felt flushed or short of breath when sitting at your computer?
  2. Have you ever felt compelled to touch yourself when sitting at your computer?
  3. Have you ever violated yourself in a public place because of things that came to you through your computer?
  4. Do you own a copy of Microsoft Office?
  5. Have you got a MySpace, Facebook, Bebo, Yahoo!, Google Buzz, Twitter, Meebo, Friendfeed, YouTube, Wikipedia, MSN, AOL, Jabber, Piratebay, iTunes or PayPal account?
  6. Have you ever felt compelled to strangle yourself at your computer out of rage or sexual arousal?
  7. Do you own a passport?
  8. If the answer to 7 is “Yes”, do you find the photograph attractive?
  9. If the answer to 8 is “Yes”, is it a picture of you?
  10. Has your computer ever gone on fire more than normal?

If you answered yes to any of the above and are still alive, then you have narrowly avoided being murdered by the internet’s most notorious secret murderer. Look out your window. Is that him? Of course not, now look back at your computer – there he is, right now, waiting for you to let your guard down. How can you protect yourself? That’s pretty simple:

  • Wear tight clothing

    Thinking about clicking? Think again, bozo.

  • Put tiny papercuts in your hands and ensure your member is constantly soaked in lemon juice
  • Watch a lot of coverage of our government – as much Brian Cowan as you can handle
  • Send your computer to me for destruction
  • Be a woman
  • Get a girlfriend
  • Be gay

Sure, I may be crazy, and sure, people scream “Manbearpig” at me as I cycle around handing out warning sweets to the kids, but I’m doing my bit, people. You can laugh at me all you want, but if I save you, or your son, or your son’s son from dying at this monster’s hands, then I’ll die a happy man, I’ll die laughing then.

UPDATE: Sadly, Willard was discovered dead in his apartment today. He was found naked, hanging in his wardrobe. The police are treating his death as unsuspicious. We have forwarded his communique to them in an effort to honour what was apparently his dying wish.

Posted in Staff Writer |

Inception

Thursday, 5 August 2010 by Ciaran McNamee

 

Inception is the best film I ever saw. My Dad took me to see it last night in Dun Laoighre. It was great, we parked in a big underground carpark and then went to pizza hut and he bought me minstrels in the cinema. Inception is a great film about dreaming and a guy in a van. It was made by a guy called Christian Nolan I think and stars Leonardo de Vinci. I asked could we see it again and he said no. On the way out we saw a guy who looked very like the guy who reads the news

 

The first thing I noticed about Inception was that there was a guy on a beach, I thought he was dead but he was actually just asleep. He was in China or Russia I think because everybody looked Japanese. There were kids on the beach playing with clay. He sits at a table in a suit and talks to a really old guy. At first I thought he was the baddie but actually when they went to a train I thought he was the good guy.

 

Leonardo de Vinci is extremely clever in this film and he knows what people are dreaming about. He can tell if somebody is having a nightmare, the only person better than him is a little girl. He finds her by talking to her teacher. They both dream about his wife and about a guy in a van and about skiing. The guy in the van can make the van fall slowly.

 

The film was really difficult for me because the wheelchair spaces are near the front and I couldn’t see some of the cinemas. It’s very technical and uses lots of big words. For example Inception, I looked it up in the dictionary and it says “The act of intercepting or the state of being intercepted.” My Dad just says it’s the name of the film and I wouldn’t understand. I guess he’s right, ever since that rock hit my head I haven’t understood much. My writing has gotten though.

 

My Dad tried to explain to me that they were dreaming inside a dream. I don’t really understand why, it’s definitely a lot about dreaming though, cause there’s a lot of magic in it like there is in dreams. At first he’s trying to kill the rich guy but then when they go to a fancy restaurant and also to the skiing place, he’s really trying to help the rich guy.  I think that the Rich guy is his brother but dad says this is definitely wrong, but I think Dad is definitely wrong.

 

I would recommend Inception for anybody but you have to think clevely as in school. There’s no kids in the movie, there are also no bears, saws, spraypaint, cannons, porrige and nobody brushes their teeth. The guy in the van looks like the guy who hit my head with a rock. There are no flashing lights so it’s suitable for somebody like me who is elliptical.

 

For Christmas this year I want to get Inception, a van and a rock.

 

Posted in Staff Writer |

Enda Kenny Book Launch

Monday, 2 August 2010 by Gemma Creagh

‘From party leader to writer extraordinaire, Enda Kenny takes on JK Rowling at her own game (writing that is, not making inspirational speeches that end up on TED)’ – Gemma Creagh reports from the Yes, We Do Have Souls book launch.


Yes, We do have souls.

Victor Garber. Hollywood actor who was in Titanic. Looks like Mr. Kenny

Castlebar local and Fine Gael leader Enda Kenny launches the first in his range of children’s books Yes, We Do Have Souls. The long-awaited first instalment of the fantasy/sci-fi saga tells the story of Fitzy, a young boy from Mayo whose parents were murdered by a band of Space Pirates – the maniacally evil Faillers. Fitzy has to navigate the universe to find the fabled Economstability, with the help of an intrepid team of explorers lead by the raven-haired Capitan Endanian.
Eason’s Bookstore on O’Connell Street hosted the launch where Enda himself was signing copies – but for some reason refused to talk about the contents of the book in any coherent manner. Teen heartthrobs Jedward were also in attendance, however a loud and televised disagreement between the pair and Enda about something relatively inconsequential meant that a) nothing was resolved and b) It was uploaded to YouTube and has since become an embarrassing international internet meme.

The second in the series is set to be released sometime next year, although the date is unclear as Enda is on a three month hiatus from writing, which he really only does sporadically anyway. Penguin publishers are still debating the travel expenses from his previous novel.

Satan’s got Jowls should be released next July and is said to be much darker than the first novel. In this book, the heroic Capitan Endanian has to deal with a mutiny in his crew and Fitzy is becoming more and more disillusioned with the journey in question. Spoiler Alert (highlight if you want the goods): Don’t be alarmed kids; of course when things look their most grim, somehow Capitan Endianian manages to save the day with his quick wit and confidence.

The launch finished off with a round of posturing and Enda closing the event with a number of racist jokes. Yes, We Do Have Souls is on sale now.

Update:

Unsurprisingly, Yes, We Do Have Souls has been incredibly unpopular among children. However elderly people have gone out and bought it in record numbers, which explains how a book so heavily criticised has ended up on the bestsellers list for so many consecutive months.

Posted in Featured, Staff Writer |

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