Painful decisions in the a.m regarding Tom Dunne.
It's been a fine few years, but it's over now, my heart's just not in it any longer. It's not me it's you.
Oh I know Brenda Power used to make me gibber with incandescent rage, I know Orla Barry used to twee the ring off me. I know 'Ger 'n Claire' are dull as dish water and Claire pronounces 'issue' as 'iss- ue. I know Emo Keane is a sneaky troll with overground passes, delusions of Kilroy Silk and a fetish for Mary O Rourke, I know George Hook is really Churchill the insurance dog. I know I know, there was some good stuff there. But it does not matter. What no man could tear asunder has been torn asunder by one man.
Tom Dunne take a motherfucking bow.
I almost forgave you the long and protracted talks about your winter coat and how fond you were of it even though some people thought you ought to get a new one and anyway wasn't there a tear in the pocket. ALMOST. I forgave your proud refusal to put on central heating even though you said the temperature egg in your children's room went bright blue from near freezing conditions. Hey they are your kids, if you want to freeze them that's your business.
I might have forgiven you a lot of things, but then you regaled me with a 7 minute discussion on your breakfast, organic wheatabix and non organic wheatbix, THAT YOU MIXED!! You daredevil you. Then you had Bosco on. Bosco. The only ginger I've never loved. BOSCO! That whiney puppet who deserves a starring role in The Wickerman. That muppety puppety drug taking magic door seeing prude with its high pitched arse scalding whine, on radio, live on radio. Where real people can hear it??
Oh no Tom Dunne, it's over, O.V.E.R. I've listened to Gerry Ryan humming along to Snow Patrol this morning and it still hasn't rankled as much as your Doctor Hibbard like tittering. Admittedly I haven't heard him talk about 'lurries' nor have I heard anything about the state of his mickey yet, but STILL!
Hello second coming? I think not, but I feeeeeel much better.