Im late today, so there shall be no posting until I get the results of the test back...er...Im a bit behind, update to follow llaaaaaaaaattttteeeerrrrrrrrrr...apologies to all!

Rendezvous

On an August morning in 1978, French filmmaker Claude Lelouch mounted a gyro-stabilized camera to the bumper of a Ferrari 275 GTB and had a friend, a professional Formula 1 racer, drive at breakneck speed through the heart of Paris. The film was limited for technical reasons to 10 minutes; the course was from Porte Dauphine, through the Louvre, to the Basilica of Sacre Coeur. No streets were closed, for Lelouch was unable to obtain a permit. The driver completed the course in about 9 minutes, reaching nearly 140 MPH in some stretches. The footage reveals him running real red lights, nearly hitting real pedestrians, and driving the wrong way up real one-way streets. Upon showing the film in public for the first time, Lelouch was arrested. He has never revealed the identity of the driver, and the film went underground until a DVD release a few years ago. --------------------------------------- All I have to say is, what a way for the pigeons to go. Beats colliding with a telephone wire any day!

From a Listener

From last night! Thanks John ;)


Send your camera phone pics to corktalksback@redfm.ie

Again, dont bother asking!

A trip down (or is it up, maybe its out) to Bandon was required early this morning. Had to have a quick check on the new car, and Im told tis all normal. Besides feeling like a fool (a reassured fool none the less) I got to take a wander around Bandon itself for around an hour and a bit. I havent been wandering around there in years, and I have to say its very like Cork city center. Buggys rule the footpaths, screaming kids and big ass hoop ear rings abound. Either way I enjoyed the romp around the land of Graham Norton. I even found a savage pair of shoes for 20 quid. Granted, I didnt buy them, because as much as I fitted into them, I would be crippled by now. Theres fitting in and theres squeezing in. How do the women do it all the time. Well check 10 womens feet, in particular their baby toe. I gurantee at least 9 of them well have a crushed, almost smashed baba toe. Why, becuase they want to squeeze into a smaller size shoe. So I decided to leave my feminine side at home.

Before we went off the air last night, I was speaking briefly about the mad strawberry sellers. Well, there was only one purveyor of the red fruit on the way to Bandon this morning. I had hoped to see the sign "Wexford Strawberries for Sale Ahead", but alas no I didnt. All I got was some sign that read "Strawberries 200M" and after travelling at least a mile I finally spotted the seller, who as per usual like the rest of them like quite fed up and pissed off. A tape measure would have been handy though, for the seller to get the signage distant correct. I know its only a small thing, but it all helps. God forbid some large American would pull in after 200 meters and get lost looking for the Strawberry seller!

On a final note, the Peta crowd are saying we should be feeding our pets vegetarian dishes. I can appreciate that Pam Anderson goes naked for those lunatics, but they should all be locked up. Im off to have a BEEF STIR FRY!!!! READ THAT PETA PEOPLE!







Yes.... A BEEF STIR FRY, WITH DEAD CARVED UP COW!!!!!

What is it with people in shops. More so the customers after they get their change. Why must they fumble about with the change and the reciept like a chimp whos got a shiny new toy. Just yesterday, a crisis struck in the house. No milk and no diluting orange (Im off the fizzy stuff, well trying to). I battled with motorists to get to the shop, endured toenail melting heat and managed to pick up the bread and the orange quicker than George Michael got caught fumbling around with that 58 year old van driver. Yet I had to stand behind some fecker who spent more time rooting around in his wallet trying to find the money to pay for whatever he was buying. He spent even more time rooting around, making room to put the change back in. But why do it at the counter, and why hold me up in the process. There should be signs up in shops stating "Please step away from the counter as soon as you get your change. No loitering!!!!" I spent more time standing around behind this guy than wandering around the shop and driving up there. If you have to root around in your wallet, things are probably tough, I know. I root more than a tree, but at least I do it in a comfortable, quiet, private place. Not in front of the fecking counter!!!!!!

It was nice to have a night off last night, particualry after spending the last 2 weeks in bed. Well actually it wasnt. Got to see the second last episode of the the current series of Top Gear and that was about it. I decided to take the new car for a spin and spent the next 2 hours trying to find a loud rattle. Was it the bones of some small animal I rolled over? Was it someone in the boot? Was it one of the corpus christi crew casting a spell? Either way it was none of the above, and I couldnt figure it out. This got the blood boiling, but soon had to came down as I didnt want to be paying any more visits to the South Infirmary. Same thing again this morning. Maybe it was the 10 hours sleep I got last night, but I figured out that my sunglasses were loose in the sunglasses holder. Why it sounded like something in the glove box will go down as one of the many of histories amazing mysteries.

According to some website, that I cant be bothered cutting and pasting there is 73% humidity in Cork today. This feels accurate enough for my liking. While theres no toenail melting sunshine, the humidity is worse as far as Im concerned. Im stuck here in boxer shorts and a t-shirt contemplating sitting in the fridge for an hour. While the sunshine puts most of us in a good mood, the humidity is enough for me to go back to South Infirmary. I cant stand it! I know it could be worse, we could be living in France and be terrified of dying from the heat. 23 people dead so far, and the French Government are saying it they wont allow thousands to die like it did in 2003. If I were in France right now, Id be after robbing a big Air Con unit, and like He-Man, battle off the heat wave with a big Air Con machine.

Anyway thats enough of my moaning, Im off to find BattleCat!

An update on a Sunday

If Im writing this on a Sunday it means one of 2 things. Im either bored, or I wont be updating it for months. Slightly bored, if truth be told and the fact that Im not on air tonight assists in that as well. So a little later on, tune in for some of the best bits of Cork Talks Back. Sundays are a funny ol day. Right about now, theres plenty of people running around the house, not this house but other houses. The women are looking for the right hat, the men looking for the right tie and the children hiding under the bed not wanting to go. Yes, Sunday mass is here again, in about 15 minutes for the 11 service. Im not taking on the religious crew again, particuarly after my recent scare, but I can remember the Sunday morning routine, with the hiding, the crying and the bribing. You know the style of bribing that a 9 year old can produce. "Ill clean my room every day, 300 hundred times a day for the next million years if we dont go to mass this morning." Then, the local church decided to do Saturday night mass, and that was a whole different ball game. As far as I was concerned, Saturday nights were always going to be ruined. Mass and that was it! When things start growing and hair comes out of places that you think it shouldnt, going to Mass on a Saturday night was the place to go, for a teenager who wasnt allowed outside the door.

Those were the days, I would don my dads leather jacket, a shirt, a pants and slick back my then, long hair. I would adpot a position at the back of the church, much to my mothers disappointment, like a holier than thou version of the Fonz. Remember I had the leather jacket! Back in those days, the church going talent was savage. Did I ever pull? during the service, nah. Nope. Never. It wasnt from the fact of trying. Now that I think about it, there was always a really good looking girl, who would stand at the back of the church, close enough to smell my dads Old Spice...or on really special occasions Brut! Being inexperienced with females at the time, I didnt see the signs, let alone read them. She was older, more experienced and was allowed to go out in town. I, on the other hand was younger, stupid and wasnt allowed to go out on the main road. She looked as bored as I did, at the back of that church. Not that I could do anything about that. So maybe the church does bring people together, but as per usual Im the exception. Still though, the Old Spice, the slicked back hair AND the leather jacket have more than likely been etched in her mind, forever.

Being off the air of a Sunday night, is quite a bizarre feeling. Its like a Lion going up to a Zebra and asking for a cup of sugar, instead of ripping its stomach out through its arse. Sunday is now an official lazy day when Im not on the air. No prep, no writing, no nothing for me to do. Come to think of it, I should be still in bed, but the times Im off the air seem to stir the "Get up early and get bloody value for your day" mood. So the urge to get value for the day is running through my veins. I have this weird thing, if Im not up and out of bed before 11 on a work day, the day is over and I have no free time. Also, for me to be in front of a TV of a Sunday night, has the same bizarreness as the Lion looking for a cup of sugar. It just doesnt happen. So tonight, Ill take in Top Gear.........and that'll be that. Sundays are supposed to be a lazy day anyway, but I cant relax. I was told I have to learn to relax, which is like telling a Lion to ask a Zebra for a cup of sugar. Anyways, Im rambling too much now, so Im out the gap!

Anger has always been an issue for me. Well not really anger, more of a short fuse when it comes to the temper. Maybe thats the same thing, but dont get me pissed off about it!
Ive broken Windows, put holes in walls and obliterated Cheetah 125+ Joysticks. Some people are placid, some are normal and others are mental like me.



We did an anger management course last night on air for the listeners, where with an official test, ripped out of a magazine, we were able to determine whether or not they had an anger problem. If they did, it was well advised that they go off and seek an anger management course! Just today I came across the following tips on controlling your anger...

• Breathe deeply, from your diaphragm; breathing from your chest won't relax you. Picture your breath coming up from your "gut."
• 
  
• Slowly repeat a calm word or phrase such as "relax," "take it easy." Repeat it to yourself while breathing deeply.
• 
  
• Use imagery; visualize a relaxing experience, from either your memory or your imagination.
• 
  
• Nonstrenuous, slow yoga-like exercises can relax your muscles and make you feel much calmer.

All the above are all well and good, if your somewhat sane. But if your like me and occasionally take a hammer to a large cardboard box, then chances are your blood is bubbling away like a pot of spaghetti about now. On the serious side though, one caller came on the air and admitted he had a really serious problem with anger. He had ended up in prison, put his partner in hospital and much more besides, and alot of it was drink related. Great guy, and it was great to hear such honesty on the air. I did feel though that there was no point in giving him the test, we gave other listeners.

Something that I had got into my head to start last night, completely slipped my mind. The population is down in the city by 3.2%, and its up in the county. Basically this means that either the city crowd are

a) Not having as much sex as they used to

b) Are having more sex, but have bought shares in Durex

c) They've all became gay

On the other hand, the county is up which means that

a) They're having more sex

b) They're all bisexual

c ) They've sold their shares in Durex to the city crowd

What Im proposing is, given the facilities in the station, or more so the size of the car park where the station is located, Im inviting people to come out there late at night. Not for sex mind, but to concieve. Only city folk shall be granted access to the car park, because after all the city population is down. On occasion when Ive left the station Ive witnessed a few acts of conception going on in bushes or cars parked in darkly lit areas. Maybe these brave people have realised the population is down, regardless of the Census, and wanted to do something about it. What they fail to realise is, you cant get a bun in the oven, through your mouth! More details shall be revealed later on this evening, on the show. Just on a final note, myself and my good producer Dave Mac, are vowing to bare witness to as many conceptions as possible!

Dont Ask

Cork Talks Back Producer by night...god knows what by day...Magdelene Sister maybe......