Please don't mind me if I get a bit crude

Who the fuck watches 'The Late Late Show'? Me. I do. Gimme does. Once a fucking year. The Toy Show edition.

Tell me something, you year round Kenny watchers, you lifeless losers, is it always that horrible? That embarrassing? That completely fucking shit? Do the camerapeople get sloshed for just that one show or are we dealing with a weekly diet of back of the head shots, shaky crash zooms, and storm tossed ship inspired sweeps of the ugly, ugly audience?

Is it always lit like a funeral home or was that just for the festive period? Is it always directed and produced by people who appear to just not give a fuck? I'm not talking about malfunctioning toys folks, or comically collapsing sets that seem to have been constructed by the infirm and incontinent, but about simple things such as selecting the camera that is pointing at something relevant to the intended content, as opposed to say, the floor, or Pat Kenny's arse.

And speaking of Pat Kenny. Let us speak of him in tones that are hushed and reverential, for this man is clearly some kind of higher being because how fucking else could he be the highest paid broadcaster in RTE when he is incapable of even the simplest of televisual tasks? See that red light, Pat? That means that camera, yes, the camera with the red light, is broadcasting to the nation. Yes, I know they all have red lights but you see, only one of them is lit up. The four year old tarted up like a street walker gets it Pat, why don't you?

Yes. So when you turn your back to it and talk nobody can see your face. I don't know why they want to see your face, Pat, but they do. Yes, I know the audience in the studio can see you Pat, but the audience at home...that's right, Pat, it's just like the radio but with pictures...

And answer me one more question, loyal viewers. How is that somebody can work in the industry of television throughout the 1990s or indeed be fucking alive throughout the 1990s and still remain unaware of the pronunciation of the name 'Seinfeld'? And even if this pullovered prat had his memory wiped just before kick-off surely he could have asked some drunken assistant how to say the name of one of his two guests?

'Ladies and Gentlmen, Jerry Seinfield!' Seinfield, folks. Jerry Sein..field. Why are we paying this heroically ignorant tosspot a king's ransom to fuck shit up?

I told Common Law not to pay the TV license last year and she just ignored me. As she does. And she'll pay it again this year too, I just know she will. Le fucking sigh, folks, le huge fucking sigh.