Hello, you handsome several. All of us to a man enjoys casting our inquisitive eyes over the various occurences and utterances that constitute the cirrhosis-riddled liver we like to label “the news”. Here to help us with our prying and quiet, tongue-clicking judgements this week is this idiot: WiL, from puppy-dog-eyed mopesters, Aiden! And now: THE NEWS.
Is that Eddie Izzard fronting a rock band? It is not. It is this thing: Chico Fellini, who are some manner of rock n’ roll beat combo. And here is what I’m telling you about them: they are releasing a double A-side single on the first of every month, featuring a Fellini original, and a cover song chosen by a magic swan (I think/hope/imagine). They have dubbed this endeavour “The Singles Series”. Quite cleverly too,…
As I busy myself with preparation for an excursion to London for an interview with the lovely Amber Rubarth (here is my itinerary: day one shall be spent getting lost, mugged and settled; day two doing my journalism “thang”; day three missing my flight, and resignedly lying down on the unyielding London streets to await the frosty fingers of death) I chance to receive a text message from old friend Mairéad Kavanagh, informing me that…
Hello, you handsome several. I know you’re just as rib-pressingly eager to get on with this week’s dissection of the bulbous, limp frog we so deludedly label “The News”, but I want you to wait for a moment – I have yet to introduce our guest commentator. And this week’s guest commentator is this lunatic: cheerful espouser of vengeful religious wrath, Westboro Baptist Fred Phelps! And now: THE NEWS.
Kids: a helpful tip. Despite what the cool kids at your school, or your drunken, vigilante-justice-espousing father might have you believe, fighting fire with fire is rarely an advisable tactic. In actuality, what’s likely to happen is the fire you’re wielding so triumphantly will team up with the existing fire to betray, and you’ll end up just fighting fire. With your bare hands. Better to take your cue from those handsome fire engines you admire…
Q: What did Scott Adams name the ill-advised cyborg character in his persistent comic strip, Dilbert? A: Ro-Bert! Ha Ha Ha Ha! That’s a pretty good joke, no? Still, that’s not nearly as good as this thing: a Roots-remixed version of Monsters of Folk’s prettiful ode to fairy tales, “Dear God”. Imaginatively titled “Dear God 2.0”, it’ll be appearing on The Roots’ new album How I Got Over, released on June 22. Also, it seems…
It’s Monday, the 24th of May, and we all know what that means: nothing of significance. I’m thirsty. Anyway, you may have heard the story of how Justin Bieber walked into a door last week. Irish broadcasting monolith RTÉ certainly did. And because respectable journalism tends to frown on any kind of personality or humour, their website’s entertainment section was forced to recount the story with nary a smirk or a wink. It really does…
Hello, you handsome several. I know you like keeping up to date with the happenings of the day. Or, in this case, the happenings of the week. This is a round-up, you see – the most efficient way for you to digest the bite-sized treats that we so affectionately and perhaps exaggeratingly call “The News”. This week, your special guest commentator is this pope: The Pope! And now: THE NEWS.
It’s always slightly disappointing writing a news item about The Rolling Stones. It’s not their fault – not really. It’s just, y’know, nothing can ever top Keith Richards falling out of a coconut tree. It happened four years ago last month, and still, nothing will ever be quite as hilarious or memorable or interesting as that ever again. HE FELL OUT OF A COCONUT TREE. Here is a joke you could have made if Richards…
Hurghhhh… Brrmmmm… I…. Uh… Throw me a bone here? What is this? A reaction to PETA hounding her? Have their con-dalmations sent her barking mad? Or is it just for shih-tzus and giggles? Fur what it’s worth, I’m sure there’s an interesting tail behind it. Whatever the story behind this pawtrait is (it’s a picture from her new album sleeve), when Kelis’ pup career comes to a close, she might find that weird furry cosplay…
Al Byrne