The Apple of Death

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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

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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!!

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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....

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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!