Almost too bad to blog

Well not even I believe this one, I think I must have spent the last year in some sort of dream state, meaning that this blog and everyone of you reading it are not real. So if you would all be kind enough to pinch yourselves and save me the hassle that would be great!
Last week my wife and I were in a large local department store. As usual she was browsing all manner of skirts, tops, shoes, scarfs, bedding, coats, trousers and the occasional spatula.
As you might imagine, I reluctantly pried myself away from this ‘browsing’ and started to wander around the store. I looked at the occasional item, such as the credit card swiss army knife, but thought better of it, as I get myself into enough trouble without weaponry. Eventually I found my way to the mens shoe rack. Now I’m not one to boast but finding shoes that fit me is somewhat of a rarity, and when I found not one pair but no pairs that I could even get a foot into, I was not remotely surprised.
At this stage I began to get a little tired and began to search for my better half. I got up from the bench where I had been trying on shoes and slung my laptop bag over my shoulder, with one strap over my right shoulder and the other hanging loose. Take note of that, its actually important!
I started to look around the store for my wife and caught sight of her examining a multitude of trousers. She evidently had not yet moved on to spatulas. I began to make my way toward her and after about ten strides noticed a tugging from behind. Immediately I adjusted the laptop bag I was carrying as I just assumed it was the strap sitting awkwardly on my shoulder. Having done that I continued walking and after another ten or so strides I started to feel the tugging again. This time I turned around to try and see what it was.

What I saw next horrified me as I actually thought I was going to get into serious trouble, the kind of trouble where you only get to see your family from the other side of some very large bars!

The item doing the tugging that I had been noticing was in fact a pram. It seems that on my journey across the store, the loose strap on my laptop bag had snagged the handle bars, and you guessed it, this pram had a baby included. It seems I had inadvertently towed this little one across the store away from its mother, a mother that was now heading toward me with great speed and phenomenal determination!
In my panic I yelled “I’m Sorry, I didn't mean to” but before the sentence had left my mouth she grabbed the pram and made an expression that made me feel like she was about to pummel me. I honestly think that she was about to call security but thankfully I managed to explain to her that that I had accidently towed her baby away with the loose strap on my laptop bag. Thankfully she seemed to accept this, but she still departed my presence quite rapidly!

On a finishing note there is one good thing I can take from this story:

I’m glad I didn’t try and go downstairs.

Father, Son and Holy.....

This one is not so much about what I did, but what I observed and my reaction to such.

The year was about 1993 and I was at a harvest service in my local church. I was there with my mother and my brother. We were sitting right at the front of the church, thus ensuring a prime view of what was about to occur. I always had a reputation for been prone to giggles in a church setting, but nothing could have prepared me for what was going to happen in this sleepy little church over the next hour.....

A Franciscan monk was the visiting preacher at the service. Typical to the stereotype the monk was in his eighties, wearing the usual brown gown with the hood and the white rope around the large waistline. About thirty minutes into the service came the time for the sermon. The monk, we’ll call him Ambrose for the purposes of this story, slowly made his way toward the pulpit and slowly ascended the steep spiral staircase towards the top. Once there Ambrose settled himself into position and began to preach.
Thirteen years on I don’t remember the content of the sermon, but I do remember the finish, it was an ending that no sermon has or ever will match...

As Ambrose came to the end of his sermon he concluded in the usual manner by saying a brief prayer and then he began to cross himself like this:

“In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy”

He was about to say “Spirit” but as he was about to utter the final word he took a step back in his preparation to descend the spiral staircase. It turned out to be quite a step back, as the next sight that graced my vision was that of an eighty year old monk backward somersaulting down a spiral staircase. The speed at which he descended and the noise which accompanied was unprecedented in the history of preaching. After what seem like an age to my fascinated eyes he pounded to the floor at the bottom of the staircase and with the thud I completely and utterly lost control of myself. While everyone else was rushing to check his pulse I was in fits laughing, so much so I was struggling to even breath.
I know its terrible but I could not help myself. I was promptly sent out of the church by my mother to calm myself down, even though she was having difficulty avoiding loosing control herself!

Thankfully there is a good ending to all of this, in that Ambrose fully recovered from his acrobatics. I'm sure by now he may well have departed this earth, but hopefully not in such a spectacular manner!

I honestly don’t know how anyone can say church is boring.....

Sometimes your watch beeps and its God

Combine the following concepts:

Accident Prone, Bishop's son, Woman Priest, Bishop, Dad, Ordination, Star Trek, Alarms, Formal Church Service.

Ladies and Gentleman, What can possibly go wrong?


The year was 1996 and a good friend of mine, a woman called Paula was about to be ordained. My dad was the Bishop of the diocese, and as such he was the one who was going to ordain her.
Anyway, as you can imagine, an ordination is quite a formal occasion. Everyone is there wearing their Sunday best and relations gather from near and far. Paula had very kindly asked me to take part in the service. This meant that I had to wear one of those fancy garments, but also to hold the HUGE book that dad was reading from while he had his hands on her head whilst praying for her during the actual ordination ceremony.

Now for a bit of back ground. Many of you know that I am a bit of a Star Trek geek and that during the 90's Sky 1 used to broadcast it every day at 5pm. Well since I was such a big fan I never wanted to miss an episode and as such had a rather funky watch with support for two separate alarms. Been the geek that I was, one was set daily for 4.55pm and the other for 4.57 pm, just in case I was mid-fight with my brother and missed the alarm.

Before the service all went well at first, there was the usual hymns and prayers before we got to the ordination and I was sitting quietly to myself waiting for my part.
I would ask you to remember as well at this point that the church in which this was happening was a biggish church with high ceilings which meant any small sound was amplified ten times by the architecture.
Sure enough my part came along and I was signaled to come to the front of the church while Paula knelt on a cushion in front of my father who was going to lay hands on her head and pray for her. I made my way, quite scared I must point out, to the front and received a HUGE prayer book. It was way too large to hold with one arm and when held by my two arms and leant against my chest, felt like it was pushing my teeth into the back of my skull.

Once I got comfortable my dad began the ceremony and read off several prayers from the book I was holding in front of him. Things were going along nicely and I remember dad getting to the point where he asked Paula a question in part of the ceremony. It was something along the lines of: "Do you Paula promise to help bring others to faith........" Paula went to answer the question and suddenly BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP. The 4.55pm Star Trek Alarm!! I tried desperately to stop it while dad tried to continue on. I could not believe just how loud my little casio managed to be in these surroundings. To my frustration, there was simply no way I could stop it. I needed to use one hand to click the watch button, but while holding this huge book, it just was not possible. I could not put it down either as a) there was nowhere to put it and b) Dad was reading the ceremony from it.

After what seemed like an eternity (30 seconds) the beeping stopped and I breathed a sigh of relief and dad continued on with the ceremony.

Suddenly however I was horror stricken! In 90 seconds the alarm was going to go off AGAIN!! At 4.57!!! I tried to catch my dad's eye to tell him to hurry it up, but to no avail, his eyes were focused sharply on the book. Sweat began to run down my forehead and I was sure the pages were going to get stuck together. The seconds were counting down and I knew I did not have much time left. I knew there was nothing I could do, there was simply no way for me to stop my watch. I looked around helplessly, but to no avail.
Suddenly I thought my luck was changing, for a moment I thought I was saved, Dad was finishing up. You can always tell, the tone changes towards the end of a prayer. He was just getting to the end of the prayer, the bit where he declares the person as been ordained when it came:

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP.

I was horror stricken but at the same time I was fighting not to burst out laughing, I actually drew blood from my lip I was biting it so hard. My dad managed to keep going somehow and finished the ceremony.
Paula the newly ordained priest told me afterward that she thought maybe God was telling her something.

If thats the case, God must love Sci-Fi.

The Apple of Death

This post and all others have been moved to this sites new home on www.peterneill.eu

I don't know why I am even bothering to write this, as not one of you is going to believe it. Maybe its for personal therapy or maybe I think that someone else who has done this terrible deed may need to hear that they are not alone..... Actually they are alone, because its me and no one else could possibly have done this.

This ones short, but, as they say, Quality, not Quantity.....


I remember it was a long journey on a hot day on the way to camp site in mid July. Mum and dad always passed fruit back to my brothers and I , as usually the longer we spent eating, the less time we had to fight in the back of the car. Anyway, one day my dear mother passed me an Apple.

As you might expect I munched through it and once I ate the exterior I now had a manky apple core in my hand. I decided the best way to deal with said core was to throw it out the window. Now bear in mind that we are traveling down a large European road, most likely doing sixty anyway.
I rolled down the window and with one quick lunge launched it toward the side of the road. As I lunged I had a moment of panic as I realised that a pedestrian was in the approximate path as far as I could see.
Just how much in the path soon became terrifyingly real as I witnessed the apple core smash into their nose at approx sixty miles an hour relative speed.
I am going to be honest here and say I don't remember exactly what happened next. I am not even sure I ever admitted it to my parents......The one thing I do know is that I always eat the apple core now, and in writing this article , I think I have just realised why........

Operation Sample Return

This post and all others have been moved to this sites new home on www.peterneill.eu

There are some situations that are so simple that nothing could possibly go wrong. Many would think the following situation is such. Many are wrong.

The year was 1998 and I was just about to start a new job with a financial services company in Dublin, Ireland. One of the perks of this new job was excellent health cover. Those of you whom follow this blog, will know that such 'perks' are a necessity for yours truly. In order to avail of this health cover all new staff members were subjected to a very vigorous medical examination, where no stone was left unturned, if you catch my drift……

The examination was to take place in the doctors office on the top floor of an old georgian building in Dublin. On my entrance to the building I was coincidentally greeted by the doctor and brought straight upstairs, skipping the usual reception registration process.

Surprisingly there were no surprises during the examination itself. Looking back on it, it seems like the situation itself was luring me into a false sense of confidence, confidence that this was all going to go off without a hitch.

After the examination itself was over, and after I had regained my respectability I was handled a sample jar and asked to go to the bathroom and produce a urine sample. This seemed like a simple task, and it was. I went to the bathroom, very readily provided an ample sample (no rhyme intended). I had been requested to drop off the sample at reception on my way out of the building. So with this in mind, I descended the stairs to make my way down three levels to the ground floor. Now this was a building that had offices for several companies apart from the doctor I was visiting, this is a fact I now wish I had paid more attention to.
Once I got to the ground floor and set about looking for the reception desk. Still not having realised that several companies were in this building and not having had to register on the way in, I went straight for the first reception desk I saw, straight through the door in front of me after I descended the stairs.

Upon entry to the office I went to the desk, at which a young woman aged about 25 was sitting. I immediately, and quite awkwardly placed my clear jar of urine down on the desk in front of her and said "this is for you I believe – my name is Peter Neill". I immediately saw a look of confusion on her face, she then picked up the jar and started to scrutinise it. Not too impressed I was about to step back and leave when she started to open the jar to have a sniff. I immediately copped on that she did not realise what it was, and I yelled "Don't, its my urine!!!". The girl promptly screamed, slammed the cap back on the jar, banged it onto the table and ran to the sink in the kitchenette to wash her hands.
After a few seconds she returned and angrily asked me "Why are you giving me your wee, thats disgusting?!"

I replied "The doctor told me to give you my sample on the way out!"

Her reply, one that left me stunned was :

" This is a solicitors office!!! The doctors reception is across the hall! "

The Accidents Strike Back

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Things have been quiet recently. Then Saturday happened...

Myself and my wife (yes someone married me!) had our first wedding anniversary on Saturday last.
After having a lovely dinner out we went back to the hotel in which we were staying and made our way to the lifts at the back of the lobby. On the way to the lifts we went through some large double swing doors and at the same time I saw a waitress walking behind us carrying a very large tray, with about seven glasses and three bottles on it.
Naturally, after I went through I held my half of the swing doors open for the waitress. I assumed my wife was going to do the same, and it appeared that way but as the waitress was walking through the door she let here half spring back on the waitress. Thankfully the waitress was alert and put out her foot to stop the door. However I did not see this and immediately lunged forwards to try and grab the door.

I think you can see where this is going.

In my desperate lunge I managed to actually punch her tray. In fact punch is not strong enough a word, I attacked her tray. A second later there was smashed glass everywhere, every single glass and all of the bottles but one were on the floor, utterly smashed. I stared at this sight in awe, only to then look up and see a completely soaked waitress in front of me. She was totally drenched in Beer, Coke, Wine and Water. I did not know what to say, and to say she looked unhappy is somewhat of an understatement! I just about managed to get the word "Sorry" past my lips when she ran off to get some towels after giving me a glare to end all glares. And this point my wife and I looked at each other, and decided a quick exit was necessary, and dashed off to our room, leaving yet another disaster scene behind us....

Blog Awards!!

This post and all others have been moved to this sites new home on www.peterneill.eu

As many of you know I have made it to the final short list for the Irish Blog Awards (www.awards.ie), in the Most Humorous Post Category!!
The post that was nominated was "Don’t turn it off!!" & the awards are on the 11th of March in Dublin.
Sadly I cannot attend, but a very well known Irish comedian who is a friend of mine is going to represent me at the awards. His picture is below:

The First person to name him will win.........nothing, will not receive anything, will not benefit in any way whatsoever, probably not even receive an email from me, but you'll know you got there first...possibly........
Post your answers as comments to this post!!!

Think before you speak....

This post and all others have been moved to this sites new home on www.peterneill.eu


This little accident is one of the verbal kind. Needless to say the effect can be devastating in its own special way.
The year was 1998 and I was living with my parents in an Irish city called Kilkenny. My father at the time was the Bishop of the diocese covering that area.

One evening in the winter of that year my parents had to go out to some function or other, I don't remember what it was, but more than likely it was a service of some kind. During this time I was sat at home watching the television flicking through the channels, enjoying the novelty of having more than six to choose from!
However my channel surfing was short lived as shortly after my parents left the phone rang.
I ran to answer the phone, picked it up and said:

"Hello, See House, Peter Speaking" ('See' been the fancy name for a Bishop's residence)

"Hello, I wish to speak to the Bishop, is he available?"

"I'm afraid not, he is out this evening"

"That's Okay, Can you tell him that the Mayor rang, that's the Mayor of Kilkenny, spelt M.A.Y.O.R"

Taken aback by this spelling lesson I all too quickly engaged my lips before I could engage anything else! :

"Well! If its M.A.R.E you're a mighty intelligent horse!"

Too say this was met with a silence is something of an understatement. Thankfully after what seemed like ten seconds of silence (but was probably four), the Mayor responded:

"We'll I'm sure I'm not, just tell him that I called.....Goodbye!"

For anyone reading this who is for some bizarre reason considering hiring me for a public relations job....DON'T!

Accidental Assassination......almost!

This latest entry doubles up as the nearest I have yet come to creating a world wide diplomatic incident, my closest yet to starting a war, while at the same time becoming an Icon to many and an enemy to even more. This one is bad.

The year was 1995 and I was on work experience on a chat show on national TV. My work experience stint was only a brief one, but more than enough time to have a disaster!
On one particular episode on which I was working, Salmun Rushdie was a guest and was been interviewed by the host about his book "The Satanic Verses". As many of you know this book is hated by many of those who follow the Islamic faith and has lead to many threats and attempts on the life of Salmun Rushdie.
Anyway during the interview, the host signalled for a commercial break as one of the lights above the set was flickering.
Now fixing this light was going to be a tricky operation, one that would involve going hand and knee along a large girder in order to get to the light to turn it off. What would make this operation all the more daring was that since it required someone to crawl right above the heads of the host and Salmun Rushie, it would have to be completed before the advert break was over due to the noise level of someone above and the possible danger of them falling on top of those been interviewed below!

Can you see where this is going?

As you have probably guessed, yours truly was asked to crawl along this girder to fix this light and get back in three minutes.

What the person who asked me did not know was that :
a) I cannot deal with heights
b) I made strange things happen, albeit usually to myself

However, in order to not sound unwilling I accepted the task and climbed a ladder up to a metal walkway and psyched myself to begin my crawl.
I knew the clock was ticking and I had to be quick, I got on my hands and knees and shakily started my crossing. For the first few feet I moved very very slowly and then when I heard a two minute warning, I speeded myself up. Thankfully I managed to get to the light, across the remaining ten or so feet within about 25 seconds and was quite proud of myself that I had not yet panicked.
Now at the light I set about my task, a simple one, I just had to reach around the light and flick an off switch. The heat up there was astonishing and I found myself sweating terribly, which was made worse at the sweat was landing on the girder, just making it slippy. However I did not let this stop me and I reached around the light and turned it off. Achieved. Next thing I hear is another guy on the work experience with me shouting up to me that I had only 45 seconds to get back. I tried to turn around to make my way back but I panicked. Not only with this added pressure was I now getting seriously freaked by the height I was at, but the surface of the girder was wet with my sweat, and seriously slippy.
In a lunge I managed to turn around without slipping, but once I had I completely froze, I could not move an inch.

To make matters worse I had begged the other lad doing work experience (whom we will call Joe) not to tell the floor manager that I was still up there on the girder, as I was embarrassed and afraid I would get told off. Unfortunately he conceded and instead watched the whole process unfold.

As soon as I froze Joe tried to get me to move, telling me that I would be fine and that I just needed to come back slowly. This started to work and I could feel myself calming slightly, until.....

A shout went around the studio: "10 seconds everybody, 10 seconds till live".

I completely froze again, I knew I could not make it back in time and with this pressure I totally and utterly locked up, I could barely speak. Worse still Salmun Rushdie was sitting directly below me and as the commercial break ended and the show restarted, the topic of conversation was the various attempts on Salmun Rushdie's life since writing The Satanic Verses.

At this point Joe had stopped trying to get me to come back as the noise of me moving across the girder would be too loud and instead told me hold tight until the next advert break, thirty minutes away. He waited at the end of the girder, as if he was to descend the ladder to get help or let the others know, he would make too much noise too!!

The next thirty minutes were the longest of my life, added to the stress I was under, the fear of falling and the slippery girder, I was now getting seriously hot because of all the studio lights around me. This was a mere discomfort at first, but after about 15 minutes I started to feel extremely faint. I began to think I was going to indeed pass out, and drop straight on to the head of Salmun Rushdie, most likely accidentally succeeding where many had failed.

Thankfully my friend Joe was on the ball, and as if sent by angels he noticed there was a half full bottle of water sitting on the metal rig on which he was standing, left there earlier by one of the technicians. He managed to throw this to me, a risky manoeuvre in case I either failed to catch it and it hit someone below, or, if in my attempt to catch it I fell to meet Salmun Rushdie and my maker. Thankfully the third and the least likely option occurred, I caught the bottle. This crucial drink allowed me to survive the final 10 minutes before the commercial break, after which Joe came onto the girder and without incident guided me back to safety.

To this day I honestly think that half full bottle of water saved not only my life but Salmun Rushdie's too. He will never know just how close he came to destruction and I never came so close to becoming an icon to the many whom had failed before me where I nearly accidentally succeeded.