MYSELF AND a friend were strolling into town talking about vibrators. I can’t recall how the conversation began, but he had some unique insights provided by a guy he knows who DJs under the name Sex Shop Steve or something similar; so called because of his other line of work.
This DJ dude has noticed a pattern in the type of vibrators men buy for their partners.
The larger, multi-function, buzz-a-lot, double-headed type are usually avoided. Bog standard replicas, of a modest size are usually grabbed, and when you stop to think about it, this makes sense. Why would anyone invest in technology that might render them redundant?
Nine times out of 10 the ladies exchange the gift for a Rampant Rabbit. I’m glad to be able to report to the nearly fully open-minded men of Ireland that we need no longer fear the rabbit.
Stick with us here; there’s method to our madness . . .
THE LIZARD KING
The Street Performance World Championships moved from Fitzgerald Park in Cork to Merrion Square in Dublin last weekend with a host of tumblers, troubadours, roustabouts and freaks on hand to entertain the masses.
One of my favourites was a lad who goes by the name Lizard Man. Proper old-skool freak. He hammers nails into his face, lifts kegs with his ears, is tattooed all over like a lizard, his teeth are sharpened into points, he has teflon nobbles attached to his skull and he has two tongues. He doesn’t just have a split tongue, he can move both parts independently and he has full control over each.
Can you see where this is going?
Of all the Lizard lad’s antics, it was his tongue gymnastics that seemed to grab the attention of some of the female audience members most. He assured me that it doesn’t hurt getting it done and you get used to it after a while. A spot of tongue bifurcation and some kettle bell swinging from our earlobes to strengthen our necks and we need longer fear the five-speed, twin-headed, five-cylinder, turbo diesel, fuel-injected kango-dildo. Or we could just buy the Cunning Coinín.
CLON-GRATULATIONS
A different and altogether more wholesome variety of entertainment was on offer in Clonakilty last weekend where folk from the Random Acts of Kindness Festival were slaying the nattering nabobs of negativism and washing away recently waterlogged wellies with floods of kindness.
The idea sprang from the recent floods that hit the town. A group of people decided the place needed a shot of sweetness and light to brighten the mood. The idea caught on and a deluge of daycent daoine descended on Clon. One of the first clients I met in the West Cork town was Chris, who handed me a free voucher for a car wash and skipped down the road. There was a statue of a monkey on top of an antique phone box in a square that saw guerilla guitaristas running in and out of businesses on the main street singing cheery tunes at them. It was like Mary Poppins was at the mushrooms. SuperClonboostssmilestatisticswithkindenessinlargedoses!
LIGHT, FANTASTIC
I caught two French lads playing around with planks in Ieto and comedian Terry Alderton at Galway Arts Festival. I’m not convinced that Galway is still the corgi’s cojones when it come to arts festivals, but “Precious Light” is deadly and well worth a gander. Ditto for Kormac’s Big Band in the Roisín tomorrow night.
ON THE ROAD AGAIN
As I trundled home in the van last week, there was a bang and spout of flame from the front of Wanderly Wagon. The poor engine is now about as much use as an e-voting machine. Thankfully Dr Eddie O’Shea is fitting it with a donor engine from a turbo-diesel kango-dildo. We’ll be bombing down the road in no time.
Safe travels, don’t die.
